#i answered this when i had just awoken so like… sorry if it doesn’t make sense

[nezuscribe]

𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

summary: he’s just too pretty for somebody so stoic. thankfully he’s able to show off for you, knowing just how much you like it. he’s just so easy on the eyes

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, teasing from miguel, not proofread so sorry for any typos 

there’s just something irresistible about miguel o’hara. he knows it. it’s a fact so sure as day that a part of his own hidden cockiness comes from the fact that he feels the eyes travel across the large span of his body, taking in his sheer size as they dart away when he catches them staring. 

but despite the fact that his enormous ego (and his even bigger attitude) derive from some of this attention, there’s really only one person who he cares for to seal the deal. 

you were so nice to him, a large smile greeting him whenever he came into work. it was off putting at first; how somebody could be so cheerful in the morning when everybody seemed to move as though awoken from the dead. 

but slowly you warmed up to him, and he doesn’t know why, but he knows that he treats you differently than the rest of them. 

his words were softer when they were directed at you, a rare and honestly almost non-existent smile on his face whenever you told him about what you had planned for the rest of his week with such excitement that he almost forgot what his job was. 

and he’d be lying if he didn’t say that the way you looked up at him with so much admiration and care in your eyes didn’t do anything to him. he’d also be a blind man if the way you gnawed on your lip, cheeks puffing out in jealously when one of the assistants blatantly flirted with him didn’t send blood rushing straight to his dick.

so it was no surprise that “meetings” in his office became more and more frequent, his paperwork skewed to the side as he made room for you on his desk, your legs wrapping around his waist as you hungrily kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks (it’s been days since you last saw him).

“missed you,” you murmured against his skin, tugging his suit down as he made quick work at throwing your blouse to the side, expertly opening up your bra clasp with one hand as he moved back up to press a sloppy and wet kiss to your lips, nodding feverishly in agreement.

it didn’t take long for him to tug your pants and underwear off, groaning at the slick that connected to your panties, the smell almost knocking him to his knees as you waited (somewhat impatiently given your stance) for him to do what he wanted with you.

“f-fuck,” you whimper into his skin, tears filling up your waterline as he slowly and in a calculated manner drags his arms down your torso, his claws drawing out goosebumps in their wake, “hurry up.” you groan, impatient at the obvious way he’s edging you. 

he flashes you his fangs in a faux debonair smile, a strand of his hair falling into his face as he looks up at you, his large hands holding your mound are you writhe in pure need. 

“needy much?” he muttered, pressing hot kisses just above your clit, where he knows it’s going to drive you crazy, “my pretty girl’s already too dumbed out to answer, hm? haven’t even done much yet sweetheart, y’know?” he mutters, his fingers making obscene sounds as they slowly enter in you with much ease, seeing how you were already dripping seeing him in that ridiculously tight suit. 

you watch him from under your lashes, your mouth watering at the sight in front of you. 

he cocked a brow, noticing just how much you were watching him, more than usual, and he smugly grinned as your nose scrunched up in annoyance and embarrassment, throwing an arm across your face to hide from his heated gaze. 

“can i help you hermosa?” he traveled upward with a small tap on your clit, moving his fingers to grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards to meet his eyes, blown out in sheer need and want for you as his nose bumps against yours. 

“pretty,” you murmured against his lips, feeling the plushness of them against your own as your hands moved up to feel the large expanse of muscle, your nails raking down his skin, leaving light marks in a sort of territorial manner, “so handsome miguel.” you say, and although others have said the same thing, it only mattered when it came from your mouth.

he chuckled, pecking your lips as he moved slightly downward, angling your jaw up with his nose as he found purchase on your neck, inhaling in your scent as he almost went delirious. 

“you butter me up too much sweetheart, ‘specially when you’re lookin’ like this in front of me.” he murmurs, a bit in awe and never getting tired of this as he pumps himself a little bit, too amped up to wait that much longer.

sweet, you always smelled so fucking sweet.

he made haste at biting and sucking, your whines only going straight to his hard cock, making it ache in leak in pre as he marked up your chest, tits, rolling your nipples between his shark teeth as you moaned out pathetically for him. 

he was gorgeous like this; his lips swollen and red, cheeks pink as eyes estranged as he marked you all for himself. he was always like this after a mission, no matter how well it went. all that pent up frustration and adrenaline would be directed to you, and you had absolutely no qualms with that. 

his fingers found your fluttering walls and found them even wetter than before, knowing you too needed him just as bad as he needed you, and he waisted not a second more as he lined his angry tip with your pretty pussy, moaning like he was in heat at the feeling, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last that long in you, especially after not seeing you for as many days as he was gone. 

“i’m ready m-miguel, just please fuck me, p-please.” you whisper, your hands finding his dick as you guided him in, the two of you moaning and throwing your heads back in pleasure as he begins to sink into your warmth. 

“my girl,” he says, his thumb finding your swollen clit as he rubs, picking up his pace after a few seconds of letting you adjust to his size, “my girl.” he says again, but his grip tightens on your hip at his possessive tone. he missed you just as much as you missed him, and he needed for you to know that even if he’s not the best with words. 

his dick rubs along your walls, dragging in and out at the most delicious pace, hitting that spot that makes your walls tighten around him and your legs to wrap around his waist to pull him in even more. 

there was no space in between you two, your heavy and hot breaths hitting each other as you feverishly kiss him again, needing to be connected with him in every way possible, moaning against his lips as he angles himself just right to hit your sweet spot in an even better way. 

“s’good, so good, mhh fuck!” you whine, nails digging into his shoulder, your lips catching between his sharp teeth, piercing the soft skin just enough to draw a little blood, and he grins at the sight. 

“you’re doin’ great babe, perfect for me, god,” his voice is rough, raspy as he feels his release coming at such speed, “you’re mine, need so much.” he mutters and you nod, throwing your head back in clear pleasure, letting him lick a strip up your neck, his pace quickening as the two of you reach your highs. 

he pulls out just in time, finishing in spurts across your chest, and you spasm, missing his dick as you clutch onto his biceps to steady yourself, back arching at the feeling that nobody else but him could give you. 

your chests move in synch, trying to catch your breaths as sweat dots your forehead, coming back from your high as you smile at him, feeling a swell of pride knowing that he only lets you see him in such a debauched way. 

“i’ll have lyla clear my schedule for the day,” he tells himself, glancing over at you as he pulls you closer to his chest as he runs his finger to your lips, grinning at how pliant you are, letting him drop a wad of spit onto your tongue, waiting for his next words as he moves his finger down, tapping your chin to close, “need to show you just how much i missed you.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x you smut #miguel o'hara smut #spider man: into the spider verse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot

[yutaleks]

transmasc yuuta x gn reader. yuuta’s on T. And on prozac. And horny as hell. fingering+oral sex (yuuta receiving). banner by @/cafekitsune. wc 1.5K.

It’s somewhere smack dab in the middle of the night when you’re inevitably awoken by your boyfriend at your side. Yuuta’s always had trouble sleeping, that you knew even before you shared an apartment with him. But lately, the tossing and turning, the fidgeting, the getting out of bed to pace around the apartment or to go entertain himself in the living room—it’s all gotten more frequent, entirely out of hand. You blame it on his cocktail of prescriptions, but since they do more good than harm, the sleeplessness is just something you deal with.

And of course, the easiest way to deal with it, is to tire the guy out. Which, you excel at, to Yuuta’s relief.

“Baby, you’re still up?” You ask him, turning to your side as you peel your eyes open, adjusting to the darkness of the room. There’s just a sliver of moonlight that shines in from the gaps between the window curtain and the wall, and it perfectly illuminates Yuuta’s dark, sunken gaze. He looks at you with an expression that can only be described as guilty.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, his breathy voice soft and sweet, unlike your gritty, sleepy one. You reach over to his face, tucking a lock of his dark hair behind his ear and away from his face. He smiles sheepishly. “Can’t sleep again.”

“Anxious?”

Usually the culprit of his sleeplessness is anxiety, as he tends to overthink and ruminate in thought when he should be drifting off to bed. If not anxiety then it’s—

“Um… not tonight. Actually…”

There’s a bead of sweat at his temples. He gnaws on his bottom lip.

You smile when you decipher the needy look on his face almost instantly.

“Horny?”

He sighs, “Yeah, it’s just, you know—”

Of course you know. You lower your hand, rubbing it along his bare hip. He’s dressed in only a loose fitting t-shirt, as he does every night since his bottom growth really started to pick up (after several nights of complaining about the fabric of his boxers rubbing against his cock, you assured him you didn’t mind if he slept bottomless, and he’s been eternally grateful ever since). His gaze lowers bashfully as you squeeze his side.

“Why didn’t you wake me up, Yuuta?” You wet your lips, mouth still a little gummy from sleep, and lean into him. His breath hitches when your hand dips lower, brushing against his dick. “I am always down to help you”

“Feel bad asking,” he hums, your lips kissing at the corner of his mouth. He silently acquiesces to your touch, and you chase his mouth as he lays back against the mattress, spreading his legs for you. “Can’t wake you up at 3 am begging for you to touch me.”

“Who says you can’t?”

He doesn’t get a chance to answer you; your lips mould against his own, swallowing whatever he has to say. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip, and the petals of his mouth part for you as you rub over his sensitive cock with your fingers. He hasn’t told you, but you’re sure he’s been rubbing the poor thing raw with how strangled his moan sounds against your lips. His hips buck into your touch, like a moth chasing flame.

“It’s—it’s sensitive,” Yuuta whines. You feel bad for Yuuta, in a way. The testosterone makes him horny as hell, but the prozac makes it so hard for him to cum. He’ll try and soothe himself but… no one does it better than you do. “P-please,”

“I know,” you dip your fingers lower, teasing at his entrance. When he isn’t needy like this, he’s so shy; he’ll close his legs bashfully and try and push you away. But when he needs your touch so desperately like he does now, he opens his legs even wider. “I’ll help you.”

You’re laying on your side, pressed up against Yuuta’s, as you kiss at his mouth and dip your fingers inside his cunt. You start with one finger at first, and delightfully feel his pussy squeeze your fingers when you start to suck at his tongue. He’s so reactive to everything you do, and something about it being dark and heavy from sleep makes it feel sexier. His breaths feel so loud in your ear, his moans even more so.

You slip another finger inside and he bucks his hips with every curl of your fingertips.

“Pretty boy, can you come for me?” You ask as he buries his face in the crevice on your neck. His cunt squeezes hard around you at the sound of the words pretty boy, pleased by your praise. Your arm that’s propping you up on the bed wraps around his neck, holding him close to you.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, answering you even though you didn’t really need him to respond. “Wanna come for you...”

As you push your fingers deep into his pussy, his hand comes down to his cock, and with his fingers he strokes it in time with your movements. You feel his hips buck into your hand again, and with a smothered cry into your neck you feel his body tense up underneath you. Everything you touch feels so wet as he clamps down on you.

Did he squirt on you? You feel a wetness drip down onto your hand, as his pussy pulses around your fingers, and you surmise that he did.

You chuckle against his hair as he struggles to catch his breath. “I love making you come, baby.”

He sighs against your neck, wriggling as you pull out your fingers. “Thank you…”

You bring up your fingers to your lips as Yuuta pulls away from your neck. He’s laying against the pillow again, sweat making his hair stick to his face as his lungs still clamor for air. He watches you with a lidded, far away gaze as you suck his juices off your fingers.

“Love how sweet you are,” you smile, licking at the wetness on your palm. Even under the darkness of the scarce moonlight, Yuuta’s face is obviously flushed. “Can I clean you up?”

Yuuta rubs his hand against his shirt, sticky still from his release. He welcomes you as you shuffle around and properly hover over him, his knees hitching up to fit against your sides. Yuuta tastes himself when you kiss him, his sweet and tangy taste dripping off your tongue. Beneath his ribcage, his heart picks up pace as you groan against his lips. Kissing you makes his head feels so fuzzy, his skin buzzing with excitement.

He’s still on some other frequency as your kisses trail lower, first tracing the sharpness of his jaw, and then the lovely curve of his neck.

“Give me one more okay?” You tell him, squeezing his sides.

“Yeah—yeah, okay.” His chest heaves as you kiss down his body.

Quickly you make your way to his pelvis, and he all but screams when you wrap your lips around his cock. You tease the length with your tongue, running it up and down, and surely then you taste the tangy taste of his juices from before. You feel a hand on your head, Yuuta pushing you down against his body.

“Just like that,” he whines, arching up into your mouth. He’s pushing you down hard as he fucks your mouth, his cock gliding against your tongue. “Fuck, please,”

You begin to suck on his length, and his whole body shudders in response, thighs clamping down at the sides of your face. You know how much he loves this (and how easily he comes, too), so you keep going, even when you start to hear him whine “wait, wait”, reeling from the sensitivity.

You add your two fingers inside him again, pumping them and brushing up against his sweet spot. He gives up any pretense of holding back, and fucks himself on your fingers and your mouth, mouthing “please, please,” like a prayer.

He arches off the bed and clamps down around your fingers, coming for you a second time that night. You drink down every drop of release he gives you, moaning into his heat as he tightens his grip on your head. Releasing his cock you move lower, teasing your tongue into his cunt, and he releases and pushes at your head.

“Too much,” he croaks out, his voice hoarse from moaning, “ ‘s too much.”

You pull away and pepper kisses to his cunt, to his thighs. “Sorry, you’re just so cute when you come, pretty boy.”

“You are too,” he smiles lazily, feeling tired out from coming on your fingers. Finally. “You’re merciless though…” he adds with an exhausted chuckle.

You laugh as you crawl back up to his side, curling into him. “Just a little bit.”

“I’ll get back at you in the morning,” Yuuta yawns, nuzzling into your neck. “ ‘m tired now.”

“Im glad,” you kiss his cheek, watching as he drifts off to sleep, feeling satisfied that you could help your needy boyfriend once again.

#writing tag #yuuta x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #ftm!yuuta

[gottaluvharry]

~I’d do you~

carlos sainz jr x female f1 driver reader

summary: carlos and the rest of the grid won’t stand for misogyny, especially when it comes to you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It felt so great to be apart of a team, a family even. Over your first few years on the F1 grid, you had gained life long friends, and the relationship of your dreams. Carlos was the perfect boyfriend, and even though the public didn’t know about the two of you, he was still always there for you. Because of that, he wasn’t going to let you put up with an asshole interview- even if it might out your relationship.

“Great race Lando, do you see a better future for McLaren? More frequent podiums maybe?” the interviewer questioned. You didn’t necessarily listen to Landos answer, as Carlos’ hand was making its way onto your thigh from your right, and Seb was smiling at the action from your left. While the media and the general public didn’t know about your secret lover, everyone on the grid did and they had so much love for you two.

Your head perked up at the following statement, “My next question is for y/n”. You always got excited to answer questions for the public, hoping that everyone would like your answers. “Do you find it hard to contain yourself when you’re around all the drivers on the grid? There are some pretty good looking men around you, i’m sure it can get hard” the interviewer questioned. You were set off a little by the question, but you could tell Carlos was set off a lot by the way his hold on your thigh tightened. “No, not really” you replied. “These guys are like my family, and believe it or not I actually can contain myself around good looking guys anyways”. The interviewer just laughed as if you were joking, and made a face that implied he thought you were. In some ways you were upset by the question, and you told yourself you would get a real one the next time around. Boy were you wrong.

“Doesn’t you’re makeup rub off under your helmet y/n?” “What kind of underwear do you have to wear under your suit y/n?” “Do have a boyfriend? If so, is he scared of you being unfaithful since you’re around all these men all day?”

Question after question you just got asked questions related to your gender. You were starting to get pissed, and you could tell everyone else was as well. By the time the interviewer asked Max “Is it unsettling to have a female amongst all you men on the grid?” you could tell the atmosphere had shifted. Carlos was fuming on one side of you, and Seb was unsuccessfully hiding his disdain on the opposite site. You gently parted Carlos’ thigh to try to calm him down. “Carlos calm down, i’m used to it” you said with your eyes when you tuned to look at him. “It’s not okay” he seemed to imply back with his large puppy dog eyes- but rather than looking innocent they looked venomous.

The interviewer continued asking everyone around you about their car and the previous race, all things that were expected. You were really starting to get tired of the interview, almost reaching an hour long. You were ready to be done.

“Alright, I have one final question for y/n” the interviewer asked. You back straightened and your mood brightened, hoping and praying that you would get a real question this time. “Who on the grid would you want to do the most?” he asked with genuine question in his voice. Your face fell and your cheeks brightened with anger. Before you had the chance to respond, Carlos interrupted you. “I’m sorry sir, but would you ask that kind of question to everyone else on the grid?” he demanded. “You have been asking y/n very unprofessional questions all day and I’m not too sure why you think it’s okay”. The look on the interviews face proved that Carlos’ harsher words got to him enough, but Carlos had only awoken the beast that was the rest of the grid.

“I totally agree” Seb added with disgust laced in his voice.

“Me also. I’m not too sure why you still have a job” Max bit out.

“I’m very disappointed in your questions, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t interview us again” said Charles.

Lewis mumbled “Its complete shit” from somewhere to the left of you, and George mumbled in agreement from next to him.

“Did you notice that you didn’t ask y/n a question about racing once? For the entire interview you’ve just been focusing on gender related things” Carlos pointed out. He was beginning to stand, his anger controlling him. “I truly don’t know why you think this is okay. y/n is a driver just like the rest of us, and she’s a hell of a good one at that. Eres un gilipollas (you are an asshole)” he said, knowing the interview didn’t speak spanish.

Every. single. driver. on that grid took turns yelling at that interviewer. They went until they were red in the face and all the journalists pencils were breaking from the pressure of getting everything down on paper.

Finally, Danny put the interview to an end, “We will be leaving now. Thank you for an absolute shit interview today. I hope a bird shits on your car” he added the last part with a smirk on his face as he stood to leave. Carlos grabbed your hand and pulled you up, not caring that the camera would catch it. As you all stood and left the interviewer stunned, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. Grateful for the people surrounding you, and grateful for the man holding your hand through it all.

“Thank you guys” you said with tears forming in your eyes. “You really didn’t have to do that, your guys’ media managers are going to hate you for the things you said” you added, trying to make the situation lighter. However, your attempt at trying to make yourself seem okay didn’t work. These 18 boys were your brothers (carlos excluded), and they could tell you were upset.

“I really don’t care” Danny said. “All that matters is that he’ll get fired and you’ll stay hired” he winked at you. You smiled, always counting on Danny to make you smile amidst tears.

“Honestly y/n you don’t have to thank us” Charles said, stepping up to pat you on the shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t thank us. That’s what brothers are for” Lance winked.

“You okay Kid?” Seb asked as he stood in front of you, his kind eyes searching yours for signs of distress. “Yes, i’m okay now” you smiled back. Even though they all know that was a lie, they saw Carlos’ slight nod from behind you implying that you would be. They all knew Carlos would take care of you, and they all trusted him with their little sister. Seb smiled and kissed your forehead, turning to go do whatever he needed.

As you and Carlos made your way back to your drivers room you just kept replaying the questions in your head, accidentally working yourself up again. You didn’t even realize you had been crying again until the door to your room was shut and Carlos was wiping your tears.

“I’m sorry hermosa (beautiful)” he cooed, moving you to curl against him on the couch. With your face tucked into his chest and his arms around you, you felt safe to cry even harder. You cried for women all over the world frustrated with how they’re treated. You cried for the naive girl you once used to be who was excited to get fair treatment in the worldwide sport. You cried for your lost hopes and your new found anger. You cried for so long with your tears staining Carlos’ shirt and his hand rubbing up and down your back. When you were finally ready to leave Carlos’ comforting smell and embrace surrounding you, you looked up into the eyes of the man you loved so much. He smiled down at you, immense pride filling his chest at the woman in his arms. He would always be proud of all you accomplish, and he would always be your number one supporter.

“Just so you’re aware” you started, a smile already starting to spread across your face. “I’d do you”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you guys enjoyed my first post for carlos:) he’s my husband for real💍💍💍 anyways, my inbox is always open and i always love you!!!! thank you for the support <3

#imagine #scenarios #fluff #carlos sainz #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x you #f1 fic #cs55 #cs55 x reader #f1 drabble #f1 drivers #found family #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr

[janicho88]

I Got You -Chapter 5

Pairing- Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female! Kazansky reader

Word count- 2,084

Warnings- Language, mentions of domestic violence, injuries, and abuse, abusive boyfriend, hurt reader, protective Jake. If I missed something, please let me know.

A/N- Before we get any further into this, there will be a few differences from the movie. Ice was sick, but beat it, the aviators are there for a six-week training, not three. I'm sure there are going to be Naval inaccuracies. This one has been sitting in my WIP since last fall. First Jake story, I hope I can do him justice. The first few chapters will be a little heavy, but we will move past that. Thank you to @slightly-psycho-multifan for beta'ing!

Summary- When you have finally reached a breaking point, you call the one person you trust for help. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, but he is the person you know you’re safest with.  It’s been months since he has had so much as a text from you, but Jake Seresin would do anything for the Navy princess he met years ago.  The pilot knows she means more to him than he ever will to her, but he will do anything for her.

Series Masterlist

Penny is still sitting across the street, after Y/N has made her way back inside the house.  ‘What is she doing here?’  Penny asks herself.  It wasn’t long ago Sarah had been telling her how upset she was about not seeing her daughter in a few months.  The distraught mother told Penny, her daughter barely even calls anymore. 

As she goes over the conversation in her head, she swears Sarah had told her Y/N was living in LA with her boyfriend.  Oh, has she heard the complaints about him from Ice and Sarah, but they couldn’t seem to get their daughter to see what they did.  So, what’s she doing here now with Jake?  As Penny drives away from the house, she knows what it is Jake owes her to repay her for this little trip.  Answers. 

Back on base the aviators are getting ready to suit up and head back to the ready room to wait.  Or in Jake's case, just head to the ready room. By now, everyone is just leaving the agitated aviator to himself.  By the time the last pair of planes is in the air, Jake can’t take the boredom of just sitting around anymore, especially with his lack of sleep. As the sound of dogfighting comes over the radio, he shuts his eyes.  It will just be for a second.  He’s awoken a short time later, by Hondo yelling his callsign.  Apparently, he came to dismiss the group for the day.  The others have already cleared out, and Hangman tries to gather himself.  

“Sorry Hondo.”

“What’s going on with you today, Hangman?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Hopefully that nothing is taken care of tomorrow.’

“Yes, sir.”

Great Jake thinks as he makes his way to the locker room.  Everyone is on his ass today.  He doesn't bother changing, it’s not like he did anything today. Just grabs his bag from the locker and tries to leave.

“Yo, Hangman.  You comin’ to the Hard Deck tonight?” Coyote questions before he can get out of the locker room.

“Can’t tonight.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I’ve got things to do.”

“Is that thing the reason you were late this morning?  Should we expect you to be grounded again tomorrow?”  Rooster tries to push him.

“Where did you disappear to last night?” Coyote asks. 

He doesn’t stop to answer his friend or rival, just hurries out of the building.  First stop, the pharmacy, to drop off your prescription.  Then a quick stop at the Hard Deck to pay Penny, followed by a grocery run, then back to the pharmacy. 

Throwing on a smile Jake makes his way inside the bar.  Amelia is at the counter working on something, and Penny is wiping out glasses behind the bar.  

“We aren’t open yet,” Amelia calls out as Penny turns.

“I know, I just need to settle up with your mom for a favor.”

Penny quickly looks at her daughter, before turning back to the aviator.  “Let’s go outside.”

Amelia stares at the two of them as they exit the building to the back patio.  Her mom has been a little weird this afternoon. 

“Thank you so much for helping me out with that, Penny.  I really appreciate it.”

“Is Y/N Kazansky at your place?”

Jake stares at her for a moment, how does she know?  “I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t lie to me, Jake.  I saw her grab the food.  There were bruises on her face too, I know it.”

Sighing he walks away from Penny and over to the edge of the railing looking out over the water.  Penny comes and stands next to him.   

“What’s going on?  Sarah told me she was in LA.”

“It’s not my story to tell.  She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here.  Please, please promise me you won’t tell anyone?  That includes her parents.”  He turns his head to look at the bartender next to him.

“How long has she been here?”  When he doesn’t answer she continues on.  “You want me to keep this secret, I need some answers.”

“I went to LA last night and picked her up.”

“That’s why you ran out of here like your tail was on fire.”

“Yeah.”

“The bruises.”

“Not my story, but I intend to keep her from getting any more.”

"Was it the asshole she was dating?"

Jake turns, surprise in his eyes as he looks at Penny. He opens and closes his mouth a few times as he tries to figure out his answer.

The bartender takes pity on him, "I've heard about him from her parents. They don't care for him."

"Yeah, I never did either. That was before I found out what I did last night."

"Did you ever tell her?"

"No. I thought she was happy, and I was just..."

He trails off, but Penny has seen the two of you together in the past to get an idea of where his comment was heading. Jake was jealous. She won't bring it up right now, understanding you are going to need some time to heal from whatever Josh did. Maybe, just maybe this time you two have together is just what you both need.

Penny reaches over, and puts her hand on Jake's arm, “I won’t tell anyone.  If you or her need anything, please let me know.  I’m here for both of you.”

“Thank you.  What do I owe you for today?”

“Nothing.”

When he goes to argue, she stops him.  “I mean it.  She’s like a second daughter to me.  I would do anything for her.”

“Thank you.  I need to get going, still need to get to the store and back to pick up her prescriptions.”

“Keep me updated, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As he’s hurrying through the grocery store, Jake realizes he isn’t up for making dinner tonight and calls in an order at a nearby Italian restaurant while he’s in line to checkout.  Once he picks up your meds, and dinner he is finally on his way back home to you.  

Walking in the house, he announces himself so you know it’s him coming in.  Seeing you walk around the corner in his old sweatshirt stops him in his tracks. It stirs feelings inside him he thought he had pushed down years ago. 

“Hey Darlin’, I’m sorry about lunch.  Captain wouldn’t let me leave today.”

“It’s okay,” your raspy voice answers him.  You don’t miss how Jake’s shoulders tense when you speak.

“I have your meds, and grabbed you some cough drops, hard candy and tea for your throat.  I didn’t know what would help best.  How are you feeling?”

“A little sore, all over.”

“I’m sorry.  We’ll get some medicine in you, and see if that helps.  I picked up dinner, wasn’t really up to cooking tonight. It's been a day.  I thought pasta might not be too hard to swallow if your throat was sore.”

“Sounds good.”

“Take a cough drop or something and sit down, while I get this put away.  Then I’ll plate up your pasta.”

Sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, you watch Jake move around the kitchen putting everything away. He looks over at you while he’s standing in front of the open freezer.  “Did you ice your wrist today?”

Slightly shaking your head, Jake sighs. He’s barely been home a half an hour and you’ve already done something to upset him, you tell yourself, way to go.

“Darlin’, you need to ice it a few times a day. We can’t let all these frozen peas from yesterday go to waste now,” he tries to tease you, but it goes over your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, staring down at the floor.

You can hear Jake’s footsteps as he walks over to you.  “Hey, you don’t have to be sorry.  I just want you to feel better, and icing your wrist and maybe even your bruised ribs will help that along.”

After you give him a slight nod, he moves back to the freezer and grabs you two bags of frozen peas to ice the top and bottom of your wrist.  

“I found this at the pharmacy, but it won’t be ready to use until tomorrow.”  Looking over at him, Jake is holding up a wrap around ice pack.  He continues on when you don’t say anything.  “I thought it might be softer than the peas or the bag of mixed fruit.  Especially right now when it’s so sore.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem princess, I’d do anything to help you feel better.  I just wish this never happened to you in the first place.”

“Me too,” you whisper so softly, he barely hears you.

“Okay, well let’s get you some food and pain pills.”

Moving around the kitchen Jake grabs your pills and sets them in front of you on the counter, then dishes up a plate of alfredo and sets it down in front of you.

“I’m going to grab a shower and change, I'll be right back and join you.” 

Standing in the shower, he turns the shower head so it is blasting hot water on his tight shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension that's worked its way in today.  Tomorrow has got to go better, he can’t take another day like today.

Jake heads back downstairs after throwing on a tshirt and sweatpants. Once he fills his plate, he sits down at the counter next to you, while you pick at your own food. 

“Is it alright, or would you like something different?  I picked up a few cans of soup, I can warm them up if you would rather have that.”

“No thanks, I’m just slow.”

On base Maverick has a meeting with Cyclone and Warlock after the hops finished, exiting Cyclone’s office he runs into Hondo leaving for the night. 

“Night Hondo.”

“See you tomorrow Mav. Oh hey, before I go, do you know what was up with Hangman today?  When I dismissed them for the day he was sleeping in the ready room.”

Maverick sighs, running a hand down his face.  “No I don’t.  Cyclone informed me, he told him one more screw up and he’s gone.”

The older pilot heads to his temporary office to write down some notes for the day before taking off. If he pulled a file on Hangman, well no one needs to know that right?  Looking through the file the captain confirms what he saw himself yesterday, the lieutenant is very good.  But if Seresin’s head isn’t in it, and he’s going to start acting out of line like today, Maverick knows he isn’t going to be able to pick him for the mission. That means he’ll have to pick Rooster, and he can’t do that, the kid isn’t ready.  And he isn’t ready to lose another Bradshaw.  The other problem is, can he trust Hangman to look out for anyone besides himself?  Taking note of the pilot's temporary contact info in the folder Maverick takes off.

When dinner is picked up you follow Jake to the living where he flops down on one end of the couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table. Looking between the chair and the other end of the couch, you decide you would rather be closer to Jake and curl up in the other corner. 

“Is there anything you would like to watch?” he questions. 

A slight shake of your head is the only reply given.  He turns on the news, when that half an hour is over, he flips through until he finds the Hallmark channel. Turning slightly you send him a questioning look.

“Honestly, I’m too tired to pay attention to much right now.  There isn’t a game on tonight, you don’t care for the horror movies that are on.  You can watch your happy ending, I can watch my eyelids.  You thought he was joking until someone started knocking at the door a short time later, and you turn to find Jake sound asleep.  The pounding gets louder before the person on the other side starts yelling.   

“I know you’re here, I need to speak with you.  Open the door!”

The noise finally stirs Jake, who takes one sleepy look at your terrified face and is instantly awake.  Jumping off the couch he moves to the front door and looks through the peephole. Turning back to you, he mouths “kitchen,” and points that way.  He doesn’t open the door until you move.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 6

IGY Tags

@dempy @fox-bee926 @acarboni21 @novagreen04 @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @bethbunnyy @senjoritanana @abaker74 @mygyn @lynnevanss @m-rae23 @djs8891 @supraveng @loving-and-dreaming @mayhemmanaged @kajjaka @delightfulheroshoeflap @imaginecrushes @donna-lynn  @rosiahills22 @mavrellover91 @emma8895eb @alittlebitofjennasea @thelightnddarkness @devil-angel-winchester

#top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #tw abuse #tw dv mention #tw injury #I Got You

[metallicaislife]

Bad Mood

Requested by: @dallysnecklace

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 909

Warnings: Cranky Kirk

I was so excited to spend the evening with my boyfriend, Kirk. I went to his place to make dinner before he got home from band practice. I made one of his favorites, and finished making it right as I heard him come through the front door. 

I rounded the corner, he met my eyes and gave me a small tight lipped smile. 

“Hey babe.” I said, wrapping my arms around him. He hugged me back softly. 

“Hey.” He replied, “what smells so good?” He asked, taking off his shoes. 

“Curry, rice and some naan.” I replied. I wrapped my arm around his and led him to the dining room. He shook my arm off and sat down. I sat across from him and handed him the rice to start serving himself. 

I tried asking questions about his day, but he was giving me one word answers then turning the question back to me. After dinner we cleaned up. I put the leftovers in the fridge while Kirk washed the dishes. I came up behind him snaking my arms around his waist. 

“Oh my god, would you let me breathe?!” Kirk exploded. 

I pulled away wide eyed as he turned to me. 

“You have been up my ass since I got home. Can’t I just breathe for 5 minutes without you clinging to me?” He continued to yell.

I clammed up. I stared at him wide eyed. 

“Um.. I’m sorry.” I squeaked out as tears started streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t give Kirk time to react, I grabbed my things and was out the door in a flash. I went home and curled up in my bed. I could tell he had been in a bad mood since he walked in his door, if he had told me that instead of exploding at me I would’ve understood. He had no right to yell at me like that though even if he had a crappy day. After mulling it over a while I cried myself to sleep. 

When I woke up I had a headache from all my crying. 

I had the day off from work so I took a super long hot shower to help alleviate the tension in my body. 

I felt much better as I stepped out, well physically at least. 

I had to try and figure out what I was going to do with my day. Kirk and I were supposed to spend it together since I had it off. After last night, I don’t think we’re hanging out. 

I got in cozy clothes anyway and curled up on the couch. I turned the tv on and let it play mostly as background noise as I fell back asleep. 

I was awoken by a knock at the door. I wasn’t so sure I actually heard it so I waited and a few short moments later there was another knock. 

I got up and looked through the peephole. Kirk stood with his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth on his heels. I opened the door. 

“Hi.” I said softly. 

“Hey, baby. Can we talk?” He asked. I nodded, opening the door wider for him to enter. I leaned against the door as he took his shoes off. My lips in a straight line. On the inside I was really happy to see him, but was also still hurt from yesterday. He looked at me and opened his arms. I stood in place a few seconds before moving forward into his embrace. 

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you. I feel absolutely terrible about it.” He said. 

“Let’s go sit and we can talk it out.” I replied. 

He placed his hand in mine and we went to the couch. He sat down at the end of the couch, and I sat on the other. We faced one another. 

“I had a really crappy day yesterday, it was so sweet of you to come over and make dinner, but I was just so overwhelmed I cracked. And I know that’s not an excuse, there is no excuse for how I treated you.” He stated. 

“I understand, and appreciate your apology. I know it may be hard, but next time you feel that way could you try to communicate? If you had let me know you wanted to be alone, I would’ve been happy to give you your space.” I said playing with my fingers. 

“But you made dinner.” He pointed out. 

“I could've taken some to go, or picked something else for myself on my way home. It doesn’t matter what the situation is, Kirk, I respect you and your boundaries.” I explained. Kirk’s lower lip wobbled a little bit. 

“Thank you, I’m really grateful for that. For you. I promise in the future I’ll try to communicate better.” Kirk said. I smiled softly at him. “Can we cuddle?” He asked. I nodded, opening my arms and kicking my legs out so he could lay between them with his head on my tummy. He hugged my middle and I played with his hair. 

“I’ll hold you later.” He said as he nuzzled into my warmth. 

“Sounds good.” I smiled softly. 

The tv was on but we went periods of just enjoying one another’s company, and then we would switch snuggle positions and chat, giggling about this or that. 

I was happy we still got to spend the day together, snuggling in a cocoon of blankets.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica x reader #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #kirk hammett fluff

[miracles-and-butterflies]

For @dandylion94, based on the prompt: “Mirabel’s birthday is coming, and Luisa is determined to make her the perfect birthday cake to make up for all of the birthdays that were forgotten.”

Absolutely love this idea. I hope you enjoy it. Apologies for this taking so long.

Comments are always appreciated.

~~~~~~

What Baking Can Do

It was the 23rd February: a week or so before Mirabel’s birthday.

Not that anyone would know. Mirabel certainly hadn’t mentioned it or added it to the family calendar or even hinted towards any possible gift ideas. A habit she had had since her fifth birthday, and kept after Casita’s rebuild.

She had celebrated one birthday since then. Her sixteenth. Although, it had really been more of a welcome home/return party for Bruno, than anything in honour of Mirabel. In fact, she spent the entire day sewing in her room.

Maybe that’s why, at some point during the early hours of the morning, Dolores was loudly awoken by Luisa deciding:

“I’m baking today. I need you to go shopping for ingredients first thing.”

Casita had barely opened its front doors before Dolores slumped heavily against the wall.

With a yawn, she let her fingers uncurl from the bags holding the collection of ingredients she had purchased from Luisa’s very extensive and poorly written list. The tiles of the house moved quickly, gently catching the bags, gliding them swiftly to the kitchen, as Dolores sleepily followed.

“Where have you been, sis?”

When she looked up, rubbing her eyes, she found Camilo poking his head over the bannister. Shouldn’t he be at school by now?

“Something smells good. Did you go shopping? Did you get anything for me?”

Ah, yes. How could she have forgotten?

She vaguely remembered hearing Camilo’s coughing fits, followed by a long speech to their parents of a sleepless night, while she had been arguing with some townsperson with overpriced eggs. Honestly, if Señor Tobias thinks anyone is going to pay that much for an egg—

She raised an eyebrow at her brother. “I thought you were ‘completely bedridden’ because Tía Julieta hadn’t had time to heal you before she left for work this morning?”

“Yeah, I am,” Camilo nodded. “But something smells good and I wanna know what. What you got there?”

“Nothing you can have because you’re sick.”

“Are they ingredients for lunch? I’m starving.”

“No, they’re ingredients for Luisa.”

“Luisa?” Camilo exclaimed. “What’s Luisa cooking for?”

With another yawn, she pulled Casita’s front doors closed. Shutting out the sunlight gave some relief to her tired eyes, a relief she would rather enjoy in peace. Not that Camilo took the hint.

“It’s our primita’s birthday in a few days,” she answered.

“Huh? I thought the nerd’s birthday was yesterday,” said Camilo. “Wait, we’re actually celebrating that this year?”

Unimpressed and too exhausted to argue, Dolores simply carried on to the kitchen.

She found Luisa preparing the equipment and still flicking through several of her mother’s cooking books. Not that she could blame Luisa for that, Mirabel was difficult to make or buy things for: as she always would pick something to please someone else. And it’s not like there was previous birthday parties to take example menus from.

“You still haven’t picked anything?” Dolores guessed.

“Wrong,” Luisa announced, tossing another recipe book back to its shelf. Said shelf was now messy and unorganised, in a way that Julieta and Mirabel would collapse over when they got home. “I have limited it down. A bit. I know she doesn’t like lemon, coconut, raisins and sultanas—”

“You just made me buy several bags of raisins.” Dolores complained bitterly.

Even Casita clattered its tiles in annoyance, as the one who was now putting away the ingredients.

Her cousin flashed a guilty grin. “Sorry. I offered the few we had to her before school, after you had gone. Got a very confident ‘no’ before she backtracked.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have sent me off at the crack of dawn,” Dolores mumbled under her breath. “If she really doesn’t mind, then couldn’t you just bake anything?”

“No! It has to be perfect. We haven’t celebrated her birthday in years, so she’s getting a cake that she will enjoy. And by starting now, I will have perfected the recipe by her birthday.”

Having no argument, the older woman just sighed again. “Fine. Let’s actually decide on a recipe, otherwise you’ll never be finished before school ends. Do you remember what Tía Julieta made for her fifth? Because all of that is an instant no.”

“So no torta de leche then. Might be biased, but I have a good feeling about torta María Luisa. That must be named after a historical figure - she’d be all over that.”

“It’s a safe choice taste-wise. And the history is very Mirabel. Do that then.”

“Or you could make something she’ll actually enjoy eating,” a third voice piped from the doorway.

The pair turned to where Isabela had sauntered in from the doorway. She didn’t say anything more as she began nosying over the various recipe books, flicking the odd page here or there, before stopping and shoving a book towards them with a triumphant grin.

“Torta de manzana?” Dolores read, with an eyebrow raised. “We haven’t had that in years, not since… must have been my gift ceremony. I’m surprised you remembered that.”

Isabela gave a light shrug. “I didn’t. It’s just the first thing I saw that had lots of cinnamon in. Mirabel likes cinnamon.”

“She does?” Dolores inquired.

“She does.” The nature lover affirmed.

“Oh yeah, when Mama makes each of us our specialised focaccia bread, Mirabel’s is always just cinnamon-sugar,” Luisa recalled. She gently smacked her head. “Why didn’t I think of that? Thanks, Bela.”

“Right, well, seeing as you’ve now got a recipe, Isa and I will leave you to it,” Dolores waved, as she guided Isabela back to the door.

Luisa looked blank. “You two aren’t helping?”

Now was Dolores’ turn to look blank, even Isabela looked a little stunned.

“No. You’re a nightmare to be in a kitchen with. You angry-bake.” Dolores said.

“I don’t angry-bake.”

“Wait, so you really want us to help?” She asked, gesturing towards herself and Isabela, the latter in particular. “And you aren’t going to be a nightmare about it?”

“Of course. I could really use your help,” Luisa nodded. “This cake needs to be perfect and we’ve got to be done and tidy everything before school ends. Besides, it’ll get done a lot faster if we work together.”

Looking back, that was the point Dolores should’ve dragged herself and Isabela to the other side of Encanto.

~~~~~~

The trio had a small, simple process going. Dolores would read out the recipe, Isabela would prepare the ingredients and Luisa doing pretty much everything else.

The first part, the apples, which Dolores had envisioned being the more problematic part as Isabela would have a knife, had actually gone by rather successfully. They weren’t perfect slices by any means but the only grumble from Luisa was when Isabela added extra cinnamon to the mix. The anger was soon cooled by the explanation of “Mirabel will like it better.”

“Okay, now we need 1/2 cups of sugar,” Dolores said.

Isabela nodded, scooping the cup into the bag of sugar and dropping it straight into the mixing bowl. Looking a little proud of herself for not spilling as much over the side this time, something she had done for many of the previous ingredients.

“What’s next—”

“What the hell was that?”

The pair turned to Luisa, stood on Isabela’s other side, who was looking down her nose at the bowl.

“The sugar going in the bowl?” Isabela said.

“You just dumped it in.” Luisa responded.

“I put it in the bowl. There’s no official way of putting something in a bowl,” Isabela dismissed.

Luisa blinked. “Take it out and do it again.”

“It’s not going to make a difference. It’s all going to be mixed together anyways.”

“Well then it’s going to taste like shit. And when the rest of our family tries your shit cake and realise it’s shit and they disown you—”

“It’s just sugar, Luisa,” Dolores interrupted. “We can’t take it out of the eggs now anyways, you’re going to have to deal with it.” Luisa went to say something, but Dolores continued, “Why don’t Isa and I switch places for a bit? That way you two can stop arguing.”

Luisa didn’t have a compliant, though Isabela looked offended at being demoted to only reading out the steps. The two swapped and Dolores turned expectantly to Isabela.

“We need 5 tbsp of melted butter,” she announced. “What is a tbsp?”

“A table spoon, you fucking idiot.”

“Luisa, it was a fair question. In fact, go stand in the corner for a minute and calm down,” Dolores said in irate, as she avoided the increasing urge to not toss the butter at her younger cousin. “Is that everything, Isa?”

Isabela nodded. “Yep. For now, anyways. Just needs to be mixed.”

“Okay, you can do that. I’ll clean this up.”

As Dolores went off to find some cleaning supplies, Isabela began mixing.

And mixing. And mixing. And mixing. And mix— why did anyone do this? This was boring as fuck.

It was mixed by now, right? The recipe said something about crumbs next.

Isabela looked unsurely about her.

She glanced over to where Luisa was stood in the corner, who had decided to busy herself by fixing the recipe book shelf a bit.

“It says to add in the crumbs once it’s all mixed, and it is, but I don’t see any crumbs here,” she said. “Luisa? Can you get the crumbs for me?”

“Um, are you giving me orders?” Luisa coughed.

Knowing that it wouldn’t end well if she agreed, Isabela begrudgingly had to to deny that claim. Through gritted teeth, she only just managed to slowly answer, “No, I’m asking for… your… eh, help.. in the kitchen.”

“Then ask properly.”

“Can you… please help…. me with this cake, Luisa?”

“Call me ‘chef’.”

Isabela kicked a cabinet in frustration, only for Casita to smack it right back into her. She winced, and then realising she didn’t really have a choice, gave in.

“Fine. Can you help me with this cake, Chef?”

Finally satisfied, Luisa walked over, setting down a small bowl of cake crumbs - when did she make that? Isabela wasn’t sure, she didn’t really care enough to ask either.

“You’re pouring it at an angle,” Luisa complained, as she glared at Isabela whilst she added in the crumbs.

“That’s how pouring works.” Isabela said in disbelief.

“Its too big an angle. You need to do it at a smaller angle. Or else it will be too lumpy and everyone will choke eating it.”

Again, wanting to avoid an argument, Isabela had to give into Luisa’s ridiculous demands. Isabela tipped the bowl less, rolling her eyes at the fact pouring was now going to take infinitely longer this way.

“What the hell are you doing?” Luisa snapped. “Now it’s not angled enough.”

Isabela tipped the bowl ever so slightly forward.

Luisa slammed her hand against the counter, causing Isabela to drop the bowl in its entirety. “Listen, Isabela, if you want to kill our sister, just use one of your poisonous plants, instead of ruining my cake and kitchen in the process!”

“What?” Isabela was struggling to process. “What are you talking about?”

“You are so fucking shit at cooking you are going to murder a child!”

“I’m pouring cake crumbs into a bowl, Luisa!”

“It’s ‘chef’ to you! And you’re doing it fucking wrong! Cook properly or get the fuck out of my kitchen!”

“Seriously, I can’t believe you think you don’t angry cook. You are completely insane to be in a kitchen with with! I’m leaving.”

“Fine, quit. I don’t care. Just so you know, it was your selfish and lazy ass that couldn't be bothered helping doing one nice thing for my sister! Your only skill and quality is being pretty and the eldest, the latter you aren’t even good at! Camilo is more mature than you are! This is why nobody in this family loves you! I feel sorry for whoever has to share a family with such a bitch-ass motherfucker you are!”

“Bitch, we are fucking related!”

“And it’s why Mama and Papa should have tossed you over the mountains the second you were born!”

“Oh my god, Luisa, what the hell is wrong with you?” Dolores demanded. Having dematerialised and separating the pair before anything violent could happen.

Luisa growled. “It’s ‘chef’! Neither of you are fit to be in my kitchen! Get out!”

Dolores muttered under her breath, but nevertheless did start walking toward the door. Isabela let her cousin guide her out. She was angry herself, and admittedly a little hurt by how brutal Luisa had been, but also found the situation humorous.

Especially as Luisa threw a bag of flour at the wall above them, when they clearly hadn’t left quick enough for Luisa’s liking, which instantly burst and covered everything in the powder.

“Get out of my fucking kitchen! You two will never cook a fucking thing for anyone again!”

~~~~~~

“Isabela! Quit hogging the bathroom, I also need to get the flour out of my hair.” Dolores said as she knocked on the bathroom door for what felt like the millionth time.

It had been almost an hour since the pair were kicked out of the kitchen.

Most of which Isabela had spent in the bathroom. While Dolores had been left outside, unable to do anything without spreading the flour around Casita and having to endure Luisa still screaming in the kitchen.

As if on cue, there was another roar from the kitchen. “COOK!” Luisa screamed, smacking a palm against the stove. “WHY DOES IT TAKE SO LONG?! IT’S NOT EVEN THAT DIFFICULT, COOK! JUST FUCKING COOK!”

The listener sagged against the door and sighed. She had such a headache.

She did consider dragging Mirabel out of school in the hopes that she might get Luisa to calm down. But, she knew her younger cousin would be stubborn and refuse to abandon her studies for a kitchen argument.

Finally, probably another hour later, the bathroom door opened.

“What were you doing in there? It doesn’t take that long to wash your…” Dolores paused, she eyed her older cousin skeptically. Then softened, “Isabela, were you crying?”

“Of course not. I couldn’t care less what she has to say about me.”

“It’s okay, if you do feel upset about it.”

“Well, I don’t! Have your shower, Dolores.”

Dolores hesitated for a moment. And as much as she wanted to clean her hair and let the running water drown out Luisa and relax herself first, she pulled Isabela into a hug.

“You aren’t only a pretty face, Isabela—”

“Obviously, I’m gorgeous all over,” Isabela scoffed. “You think that’s what I was upset about? Pft, no. I’m talented as all hell. I’m upset because she still seems to think I’m some monster, who would hurt Mirabel given the chance. She doesn’t act that way for anyone else. Just me. Why? What did I do to her?”

“It’s more what you did to Mirabel than Luisa.”

“I know! But I wasn’t the only one who treated her like shit! You don’t see Luisa threatening Abuela.”

“Part of it is just Luisa being angry, you know what she’s like in the kitchen.” Dolores explained, looking up at Isabela. “And you know Luisa has always been protective over your sister, she was the only one who fought against putting Mirabel up for adoption and she was barely five.” She sighed, taking a step back, but Isabela kept hugging. “I know it’s hard for you, but you’ll prove her wrong one day. You do love a challenge.”

There was a mumble of agreement.

Just as they separated and Dolores was going to get her moment of peace, there was a thunder of footsteps.

Recognising who the footsteps belonged to, Dolores turned back around and was ready to disregard whatever the young woman was about to say. Maybe even drag her for her actions.

But Luisa was fully calmed down, smiling. She was carrying two mugs of caffe con leche and one black tea. As if nothing had happened between the trio.

“The cake’s done!” She sang, beaming. “It’s cooling on top of the stove - we can try some in a bit to see if the recipe can be fixed. Thanks for all your help. I made these for you.” She offered the respective mugs to their owners.

Dolores and Isabela looked baffled.

“The fuck?” Isabela muttered. Though she did take her coffee, she did sniff for any traces of poison.

“Do you have anything to say, Luisa?” Dolores demanded, raising an eyebrow.

“About what?”

“About you being completely out of control in the kitchen?”

Luisa looked baffled. “Are you still on about the angry baking thing? I still don’t know what you’re talking about. Sure, I’m passionate, but I wouldn’t say angry.”

Dolores raised her eyebrow even higher. As did Isabela. Under both their gazes, Luisa did seem to falter a bit.

The three of them were all very confident and struggled to swallow their pride in situations, so making one another give in was always difficult. Usually Luisa, not only as the youngest, but also wasn’t as close to either Dolores or Isabela as they were to each other.

“Okay. Even if I still don’t think I was,” Luisa said, earning a harder glare from them both. “I am sorry if I said and/or did anything to make you feel bad. Thank you for trying to put up with me and do this for Mirabel.”

Dolores tutted. “Good, but if you think we are cooking with you again, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Luisa handed Dolores her tea before heading into her own room, with a promise to cool down further before they met up again to try the cake.

Tea would be the cherry on top of the cake now that she fully had the bathroom to herself. She might even take a long bath, possibly use those new bath salts Mariano had gotten for her recently. If she didn’t, she could easily imagine someone else using them all.

Isabela began heading off to her room, and just as Dolores’ hand enclosed the bathroom door, she heard another set of footsteps come barrelling right by her and into her cousin’s back.

“Hey, Camilo! I haven’t seen you all day—” Isabela started. She was interrupted by Camilo jumping behind her. “Are you okay, primito? You’re looking a little sweaty. Really sweaty and red. Wait, I thought you were just pretending to be sick to avoid that history test, are you really not well?”

“Shush! Please, Isabela! You have to hide me!” He whined.

“Why?”

Camilo sighed, “I was hungry, okay? I hadn’t eaten anything all day! So I went down to the kitchen for a snack. But I couldn’t go in the kitchen until Luisa calmed down. Finally, she did and went to grab a cup of coffee for herself after taking the cake from the stove, so I went in.” He swallowed, glancing around. “And, well, I ate the cake Luisa had made. The entire thing. Fresh from the stove. There’s nothing left.”

Dolores groaned in frustration and sagged against the door. Looks like she wouldn’t be relaxing today.

#encanto #ask me anything #my writing #luisa madrigal #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #mirabel madrigal #camilo madrigal #julieta madrigal

[icypantherwrites]

Was hoping to be able to ask this on anon because I’m shy haha, but my favorite character was Pidge and I absolutely love your writing and was wondering if there was a compilation of any of your Pidge-centric works anywhere? I was super into Voltron years ago and now there are. A lot of fics to sort through 😅 no pressure or anything, just curious to know if there is something like that!!!

Sorry about the anon asks, but I had to turn them off as too many people used them to send me really awful messages (as you can see below they still do it on AO3 >>) and I just couldn't deal with that any more.

To your query though, I actually used to try to keep an updated archive of all my works sorted by character on Tumblr and embarrassingly I cannot find it (but it hasn't been updated since at least 2021 so it's super outdated), so I've done my best to remember all of my Pidge-centric works (most she's the whumpee, but some she's just heavily involved in the story/Pidge emotional angst or character-centric or Pidge&another character relationship moment) but I hope this might help. There's a few unmentioned type "snippet fics" from my Patreon that exist but are not listed as no summary for them. If you check any of them out and have a moment would love to hear from you in the comments on the fic what you thought ♥

In no particular order:

Human Nature -- this is a series of the following three works:

What it Means to be Human: Pidge had always taken pride in the fact she’d been told her mind was like a machine. She just… Never expected to find out that it actually was. Or; Alternate Universe Fic where Pidge discovers she’s an android and begins a journey to find what being human really means.

Interlude: What Makes Us Different (But Also Human): Where Pidge and Keith discuss what about their heritages of android and Galran are the same, different, and discover how truly human they actually are.

Made With Love Pidge has come to terms with the fact she is an android, but she still has questions. And the only people that can answer them are the ones who have known her for her entire life. It’s time to find both Matt and her dad and learn the truth about what happened to her.

"I Am a Fighter"

Summary: The Galra capture Pidge and present her with a choice. Either she makes the weapon they want… or someone dies. Pidge prides herself on her genius, on her logic. But this? This is not a choice. This is torture. She’s being forced to decide if the universe’s fate outweighs the lives of a few individuals and no one, no one, should be allowed to make that call. She has to though. Again and again.

But when a familiar face is dragged before her she can feel her resolve crumbling. Because Keith is not a nameless prisoner. He is her friend, her family. And yet his blood is already dripping from her hands.

A Broken Arm For a Broken Soul 

Summary: Shiro is breaking. Pidge can see it: the exhaustion, the pain, and the growing, splintering cracks. And while Pidge doesn’t know how to fix broken people she does know how to fix broken things. And Shiro’s prosthetic arm the Galra forced upon him is a broken thing. She doesn’t know how much it will help, but… but maybe, if she can fix that then Shiro won’t be quite so broken anymore.

A Needed Distraction

Summary: Mini fic of Lance giving gifts to each team member, Pidge's chapter :)

Koala Hugs (Patreon Exclusive)

Summary: They’d been told that the guest houses were supposed to keep them safe from the deadly low temperatures of the planet. And while for Pidge that is indeed the case, she learns it’s not so for Lance as she’s awoken by a projection of pure terror from the Blue Lion, who can sense her Paladin dying. And now as Pidge hurries to Lance’s guest house and finds him so so cold and still, she can only hope she’s not too late.

Battle Scar

Summary: Scars can cut deep and not just physically into the skin. Pidge finds herself forced to confront a memory when Lance catches sight of a scar she had previously kept hidden. But maybe… maybe this is for the best.

Always 

Summary: Pidge and Lance are on an undercover mission to retrieve supplies they desperately need for their journey back to Earth. Despite the odds everything seems to be going in their favor; Lance is charming the local gang and Pidge is hidden away as backup and they are this close to calling it a success.

And then everything goes wrong.

Not only are the gang members now hunting them, Lance has been poisoned and its affecting his memory. Pidge somehow has to keep them both alive until rescue comes, a feat made more difficult by the minute as Lance forgets first short term details, then the mission, and now... now he’s forgotten her. But no matter what happens Pidge knows she’ll protect Lance and he will protect her. Always.

Pidge + Stitches (Patreon Exclusive)

Summary: “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

The question came out shriller than Pidge wanted but she wasn’t able to ask it any other way as Keith lit a fucking huge metal needle on fucking fire that he planned to put through her skin next to her.

Stardust:  In You and In Me (Patreon Exclusive)

Summary: Pidge is so tired. She can’t sleep though, not until she finds something. Her family is out there, but no matter how hard she tries, no matter how hard she searches, she can’t find them. The universe is just too big. Coran gently disagrees.

Crash and Burn 

Summary: Lance and Pidge crash the supply pod following a freak asteroid storm. And Lance... Lance is hurt. Badly. He's bleeding out and there's no time to wait for rescue. Pidge has to save him. And the emergency flare... Well, it's the only thing she's got.

Red Where it Belongs (Patreon Exclusive)

Summary: How much blood, Pidge faintly wondered, had she lost now? What percentage? The human body couldn’t lose more than forty percent of its blood before death occurred and hypovolemic shock symptoms started around fifteen percent.   She stared at her blood covered hands, at the puddle growing around her, feeling the way everything was going numb and made her guess.   At least twenty percent.   Twenty percent more to go.

Ready to Be a Dragon - (Patreon Exclusive)

Summary:  Lance is a Shifter. He’s familiar with many forms, has his favorites, but there’s one that stands above the rest: a dragon. And with Pidge’s magic that dream has now come true. But what should have been a perfect day of soaring through the skies with Pidge to celebrate his new form comes to a screeching halt when a band of soldiers spots them and wants the glory of slaying a dragon. And even though Lance isn’t technically a dragon… they aren’t going to take no for an answer.

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Pidge blinked. She blinked again. The date remained the same. Today… today Matt would be twenty-five. Her eyes widened with horror. Was, she frantically corrected herself. Matt was twenty-five today. Because he was alive. He had to be.

A Day at the Beach 

Summary: A day at the beach takes a terrifying turn when Pidge falls victim to a deadly allergic reaction. Now the only question that remains is what will kill her first: anaphylaxis or the ocean?

Break It 

Summary: Don’t be scared, Pidge told herself. That was the most important thing. The constant clanking and tugging and crying all around her was very detrimental to that plan. So too were the shackles digging into her ankles and wrists, linking her to every other person on the chain of slaves, that sent her constantly stumbling as they abruptly stopped and started.

Chase Away the Nightmares

Summary: Pidge is hurt. She’s hurt bad. And yet there’s nothing much Lance and Hunk can do. They’re stranded in the middle of a warzone on a hostile planet and help isn’t coming for a long while. No matter what though they will protect Pidge. They’ll keep her from further harm; from the aliens, from injury and even from her own nightmares as her head wound blurs reality and fiction. And maybe, hopefully, soon the nightmare will be over for them all.

Plummet 

Summary: They’re dangling off of a cliff where falling means certain death. And while Shiro’s grip is strong on Pidge’s hand the cliff face is weak. And now time has finally run out.

Scavenger Hunt

Summary: The team has returned to the Space Mall but shopping isn’t what’s on Lance and Pidge’s minds. They’ve got something better planned: a scavenger hunt. It’s a battle of the stealthiest and Lance is the cool ninja sharpshooter so he’s got this in the bag. Right…?

As the World Falls Down Around Us 

Summary: Ever since Pidge revealed she was a girl her team seems to have become a bunch of overprotective, overbearing idiot males and it’s pissing her off. She’s still the same person and more than capable of taking care of herself. But in her determination to prove herself independent she winds up injured. Badly. She can handle it on her own though. She doesn’t need their help.

But hiding her injury has dire consequences and now it’s not just her freedom at stake but her life.

And Lance’s.

The world is falling down literally and figuratively around them and Pidge realizes she can’t save him alone. She needs help. Lance’s help. And as dire as the situation is there’s almost something optimistic about being trapped at the bottom: the only place to go is up.

Now if they can only reach it before time runs out.

Finding the Light (series of following two fics, TW for rape)

Sit Beside You: "I'm fine," Pidge repeated, as though trying to convince both herself and Lance. "I am. Nothing's wrong. I'm okay. I…" Her hands were trembling and she tucked them beneath her arms in the most pathetic looking hug Lance had ever seen. "I'm fine. It's over. I'm fine. Not a mark. So nothing happened. I'm fine." / Pidge is not fine. None of them are. But hopefully, eventually, they will be.

Right, Wrong and the Normal In Between: Pidge didn’t want to think about it. She knew better now than to deny that it had happened or that she was fine but all she wants is for things to be normal again. But normal is a concept that keeps getting further away. Pidge realizes just how far out of reach it is when she freezes in battle and memories distort reality. Everything is wrong. Nothing is right. But Allura doesn’t think it’s so black and white. There are a lot of steps in between and she’s going to help Pidge walk that path and find her way once more.

Rivers Stain the Ocean - (Patreon Exclusive)

Summary: When Lance messes with Pidge’s color coding system the only thing to do is retaliate in kind.   So she dyes him completely blue.   It’s harmless though, will wear off in a few days, and the experience will teach Lance to never touch her stuff again. A win-win if Pidge does say so herself.   Except for the part where the planet they visit the following day to form an alliance has this whole thing about a prophecy and being cursed and deceived by a being of blue. And in order to save both their planet and Voltron...   They’re going to kill Lance.

What Makes a Team

Summary: Lance has been feeling a little lonely of late. Allura’s off with Lotor, Shiro’s been keeping busy on his own and Hunk and Pidge are wrapped up in this whole “Team Punk” concept that has them holed up for hours in the lab. So when he’s invited to accompany the two geniuses on a resource gathering mission he couldn’t be happier and plans to make the best of it.

And then everything goes wrong.

They’re trapped, injured, and if blood loss doesn’t get Lance first then suffocation definitely will. They need a plan but Hunk is down for the count and Lance knows he’s no good for coming up with something of that caliber. But his team needs him and he’s got to think of something. Otherwise… this cave is about to become a tomb.

Inches From Death

Summary: Being captured by the Galra is a lot less frightening than Pidge thought it would be. It’s boring, really. Well, until Lance slowly starts suffocating to death inches from her and she can do nothing to save him. Now… Now it’s terrifying.

A Squeak in the Code 

Summary: Despite the late hour Pidge has no plans to sleep until she finishes running her current algorithm. Four determined little space mice have a very different plan in mind.

Crimson Shock 

Summary: What should have been a routine mission takes a terrifying turn when Pidge is injured. She’s trying not to be scared because it’ll make Hunk more so and she needs him not to be but it hurts so much and the world is growing dark and she is so so scared.

Give Me a Sign

Summary: Matt isn’t sure why he was targeted for a ransom request. He wasn’t a nobody in the Rebels but he wasn’t a somebody either. What did these aliens think the Coalition would offer for him? But as the transmission turned on Matt got his answer. Because those weren’t Rebels on the screen. It was Katie.

Heavy is the Toll of War (series of following two fics)

The Cost of Winning: "The Blue and Green Paladins serve no purpose to the Empire," the Galran commander smirked at his bound captives. "And as such you have no use except as arena fodder." He chuckled. "Give us a good show before you die." / Lance is determined to protect Pidge and save her from the arena. She will not die here. Over his dead body. Hopefully it's not quite that literal of a promise.

The Price of Peace: They may have escaped the arena but things back home are far from all right. Keith is struggling. Shiro is hiding. Lance is suffering violent flashbacks and she's having nightmares too. It's wrong. It's all wrong. Pidge hates it. She wants her space family back. Not this broken version of them. It looks like she's just going to have to fix it. And Lance is going to help.

Over the Edge (my very first VLD fanfic ever :))

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple nature hike. What it turned into was anything but. And now Pidge and Lance are just hoping they can make it back alive.

"Pidge!" came a scream. And before she could even process that she was falling, that she was going to die, a dark hand shot over the edge and wrapped bruisingly about her wrist, but she had never been so grateful to be in pain. Lance's panicked face met hers, although there was a steely glint of determination that so, so many overlooked. "I've got you," he panted, throwing his other arm forward and grabbing even more of her arm. "It's going to be okay."

A Sister In (My) Arms

Summary: Pidge is fevered, fatigued, and yet somehow here she is climbing almost a thousand stairs for the good of the Coalition. But she isn’t doing this stupid ceremony for the stupid Coalition. She’s doing it for Allura. And Allura will be there to catch her when she finally falls.

Trick or Treat 

Summary: Pidge (gently drags) Keith with her to go trick or treating at the Garrison sponsored Halloween event. But what is supposed to be all in good fun takes a dark turn when they realize that someone is following them…

Burnt French Toast

Summary: Every Mother’s Day per tradition Pidge and Matt make their mom practically inedible French toast and are then saved by the local bakery. But there’s no bakery this time. Just burnt French toast. And after three years of missed Mother’s Days, of leaving without answers and causing their mom even more pain, Pidge is horrified that this was all they could do.

Stabbing Pain 

Summary: Where Shiro jumps in front of a spear to save Pidge, gets impaled, and insists he is all right as he’s very painfully bleeding out.

Follow You Home 

Summary: Voltron is heading home. Except, for Keith, the destination of Earth isn’t his home, not really. There’s no one waiting for him there. And, he tries to tell himself, that it’s not like the space family he'd made up here with Voltron would abandon him as they go seek out their own loved ones on Earth. But he’s so used to being left behind, forgotten, why should this time be any different? Fortunately, Pidge is right there to remind Keith just how much he belongs with all of them.

#icyanswers #voltron #vld #pidge #katie holt #fic rec #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #icypanther #icypantherwrites #pidge centric #pidge angst #pidge hurt #pidge whump #hurt pidge

[godslush]

Hello again! hope your well! So I think I get the premise of this but correct me if I’m wrong so In your comic sunstar doesn’t technically exist therefore if he were to develop a soul like the other stardroids it would be a whole other issue of “being that never existed develops an existence?”(or something similar? I’m not sure sorry ;-;) and figuring that whole situation out (I’m guessing the stardroids have to do that [like babysitting? Kind off??? I dunno]

And in “escape the temple” Sunstar being freed and becoming complacent with his status as a god has the stardroids(terra in particular) having to keep him out of trouble especially with the traps made for the sungod lines. It honestly makes me think of like those child leashes except Sungod size ( that made me laugh a little with sunstar just wondering off and whoever’s holding the leash getting dragged along{however unlikely that he would let himself be made to wear that I just thought it was funny}). I’ll be completely honest with you I live reading oc info pages and seeing art and stories/ storylines for them just gets me excited! I tell you I read through your entire oc list before I got to the comics cause I just love reading them helps get the brain cells moving for ideas lol. Especially cause of how interesting and well written they were! Just really gets me engaged and interested in the stories :) honestly thank you for answering my asks ;o; especially cause your not as active on here as on twitter and this is my only way of really asking ;-;. I hope you’re doing well and I hope you have a good rest of your day/night! Thank you!

Hey there! Since these are getting long and a little specific, I’ll put it behind a cut, though I may opt to shift these to private answers if they start getting too spoily or personal.

---

The Stardroid comic is a “years later” followup on Gigamix, so I’m somewhat beholden to what Ariga-sensei has revealed, whether it be on TwiX or in lore-dumps like the Maniax books. Thankfully, he’s also VERY much a proponent of fans coming up with their own stories and headcanons (as mentioned when asked about hairstyles; since fans will frequently take his opinions and designs over the canon ones even when he’s not working in an officially-moderated capacity, and he doesn’t want to cause a rift with Capcom’s control over their own franchise and his own chances to work with them in the future).

That said, there isn’t MUCH 'canon' information on the Gigamix Stardroids, even in Maniax, with the bulk of it being focused on Terra and Mercury... but out of my own preferences, I’d still like to keep what’s available intact, and build off that, even if I end up building a LOT. In Sunstar’s case, he’s not even a robot, just a conglomerate of destructive energy and negative emotion. So trying to work with that and give HIM closure was rough. First, he needs a body and a soul...

Once he gets those, it's a bit rough on the Stardroids, too, but at the end of the day gets resolved by them (and a critical third party) realizing that what they understood of him was incomplete, and trying to figure out how to fix that...

---

Escape the Old Temple, in contrast, is technically built off the games (since it’s designed to be a game, itself), but presents a branch where Sunstar didn’t actually die at the end of World 5/V, merely faking his death and then masking the presence of himself and the other Stardroids (also miraculously surviving) so that they could rebuild at the edge of the solar system without further human intervention. The only reason Rock was able to defeat him in the first place was because he had just awoken from a who-knows-how-long slumber, and was essentially still booting up. Once at full power, he’s beyond pretty much anything human technology could throw at him in their current state.

He simply steps in when a ‘relic’ of the Stardroid’s ancient past (in the form of Antares’ trap-filled temple/tomb) shows up. On one hand, if Antares is still active, it could pose a threat to Earth. On the other, if someone like Wily decides to meddle, he could gain access to technology that could negatively impact what chances Earth has at a continued ‘peaceful’ existence. Rock proved that peace was possible, and Sunstar wants to do his part; whether or not the other Stardroids agree is another issue entirely, but their own stability is also threatened by the temple’s presence, so they might as well be the first line of defense (plus, they’d know what to do with the technology they loot, unlike some wacky mad human scientist).

Sun isn’t so much running off on his own, but when the others fail to return from scouting the temple, he and Terra dispatch themselves to get them back and end the threat personally. Sun’s approach to it is just... a little more haphazard and forceful (and frustrating for Terra). It’s less of a child-leash issue... but I will be honest, the mental image of that is hilarious and pretty much on-point. It’s definitely how Terra feels at times!

---

And thank you so much for the kind words on the OCs-! But it... doesn’t really change my feeling on the verge of giving up (likely temporary, but no less debilitating)...

Mental Health Dump ahead, feel free to skip, but it’s the gist of things as they stand:

My biggest success with the [REDACTED] fandom pretty much set me up for unfair expectations on engagement, and ever since the thing that made me fall out of that fandom (which involved getting into official development, only to have my soul crushed and disregarded and left to rot under an NDA until it was too late to salvage my emotional state, causing me to lose many friends and all of my self-worth), I’ve suffered from intense RSD. That - plus a constant stream of working myself to burn-out for little to no engagement - has made me more or less a wreck, who can’t maintain reasonable creative function without sufficient external positive reinforcement to keep up my energy. However, because of my past expectations and relative success when it comes to OC engagement, the threshold for what’s considered ‘sufficient’ reinforcement is a lot higher than most people, and not reaching it causes me to sink lower and lower each time I ‘fail’.

Couple that with my bad track record for being stuck in jobs I hate IRL, and you’ve got a recipe for frequent meltdowns.

I know I should be getting help/therapy for this, but attempts to do so have ranged from getting simply brushed aside put on meds that make matters worse, to literally being told by a mental health screener that there’s nothing wrong with me and that my ‘problems’ are all because I’m a woman and my hormones are making me miserable (I’m not joking).

I was able to get decent headway into the Mega Man fandom as an escape born of trying to return to my roots, but I also had, at the time, just gotten a job I actually loved, and seemed stable and fulfilling and it gave me life and energy and enough free time to actually dedicate to larger projects (like the comic).

...And then the boss of that job started loading most of his management work on me (while keeping my title as 'sales associate' so the experience wouldn't reflect for future job hunting/unemployment), before betraying me and throwing the company away to pursue gambling and crypto (presumably, due to his suspicious lack of communication when asked for details), which landed me back in Corporate Retail Hell, which is where I currently reside, living alone amidst rapidly increasing rent, utilities, and general cost of living.

I am once again reliant on engagement... engagement I’m just not getting because the Tumblr environment has changed since the [REDACTED] days to dissuade comments/replies/asks, and the TwiX environment has changed to be so painfully algorithm-dependent that I can barely get scraps.

To be honest, I’m not ‘more active’ on TwiX anymore... and if anything, I’m on my way out there, too, due to the way Stinky ruined everything and made the environment hostile and unstable. But I can’t shift my weight fully to Tumblr, either, because I don’t trust it to not eventually fall into the [REDACTED] trap of people only approaching me hoping I’ll be their friend so that they can get free art out of me (and a few people have already thrown up the red flags of that behavior, making me even more on-guard).

I also get the feeling that this is a community that prioritizes giving the time of day to people actively mingling with all the other creators; I can’t get away with what I did at the height of my drive, where I’d create characters and people would stop by and enjoy them with me. What little energy I have either goes to creating, or to maintenance, and unless I’ve got a reasonable stream of incoming energy to spend, I can’t feasibly mingle the way people seem to expect. It’s too big a space to spread myself so thin.

When I started my comic, I lived in a hole under a rock. The world I knew was small, and a small amount of engagement was enough. Then I stepped out from that safety and into the fandom and saw how large and expansive it really is, and how insignificant I am, and how effortlessly other people doing similar things to me can get all the validation in the world from 5-minute white-background line doodles of their own OCs, while I struggle to get full pieces recognized... and I’ve more or less become overwhelmed by a combination of fandom agoraphobia and personal futility.

If I can make something that looks okay in one go with minimal frustration, I might post it... but seeing how little that gets me unless it involves "popular fav" canon characters means that if I hit any snags in a larger project with original components, ANY frustration at all, I’m more likely to simply stop, out of fear that the energy spent to leap the hurdles won’t be recouped by the final product.

That's why the one Ask still sitting in the Remes box hasn't been answered; I wanted to precede answering it with a larger story (albeit an unrelated one, but I wanted to get that story into people's heads going forward), but hitting snags in that story and realizing I'd most likely post it and get 6 notes total made me just... not feel like it'd be worth it.

I thank you for your kind words, I truly do... but right now I am just one failure too far over the line to be anything more than an eyesore and a liability until I recoup...

#ask answer #onyxgladiolus #cw mental health #cw depression

[scorpiongrassfield]

You think you’ve got it figured out

Start | Prev

It’s certainly possible that the shadow knew Theo well enough that his house was important to the shadow as well. But how did the shadow know exactly where Theo’s phone would be? Why hasn’t Theo mentioned this friend of his, if they were so close. He could have forgotten, especially with the shadow’s comment about Ametrine’s abilities. 

To say that shadow and Theo knew each other is technically right, but only so far as a person can know themself. 

The angle of possession would explain a lot of things. If the soul you’ve been visiting is Theo’s and not yours or the shadow’s, it would explain why his house is there, why the woods are there, why the forget-me-nots offer respite. 

But how does a ghost possess another ghost? Pat isn’t sure it’s possible. Hanging out in a person’s soul seems to be quite a different matter than possession. 

There’s a crackling sound coming from somewhere outside, but you pay it no mind. 

“I think… That you and the shadow are the same person,” you finally conclude. 

“Wait, what?” Pat says. That’s not what they were expecting you to say, clearly. 

“It makes more sense than not,” you defend. 

Theo is watching you very calmly, not a hint of surprise on his face. It’s not like him, but how well do you really know him, anyway? 

“Oh, I don’t think that’s possible. I never met you and Pat before you came here, and you’ve given the impression that the shadow knows the two of you very well,” he says. 

“Possession makes more sense. Aren’t we speaking to the shadow now?” Pat argues, gesturing to Theo. 

“Sort of, I think,” you half-agree. “But to Theo’s point, how can the shadow know us if Theo doesn’t? I think I can answer that with another question,” you say, pacing as you think. 

“ Pat,” you say, and wait for them to look at you, “Can Ametrine really erase a person’s memories?” 

Pat freezes, horror dawning on their expression. “No, there’s no way…” they mutter. 

“And even if it seems impossible, everything else adds up. The shadow doesn’t need a body to possess because it… no he, has the same soul as Theo. The two of them sound alike not just in voice but in manner of speaking. Theo, when you’re feeling confident you talk like him. And when the shadow is feeling nervous or lost he talks like you,” you say. It feels strange to feel sure of something for once. To finally cut through some of the foggy confusion about everything that’s been happening. 

The crackling sound gets louder. 

“Oh. Well that certainly is interesting, but it does also seem impossible. Even if someone had erased all of our memories, as you’ve suggested, there’s still the matter of how the shadow knows you. If he’s a guardian, he can’t be me because I haven’t moved on yet,” Theo deflects. He doesn’t seem to realize his misstep. 

Pat turns their full attention to Theo, looking at him like a bug that’s been caught under a plastic cup. 

“How do you know that?” they ask, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Know what?” Theo asks, the picture of innocence. 

It clicks for you, too. 

“We never explained the rules of how guardians work to you. How do you know they need to move on?” you ask. 

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. I’ve never been very good at acting or keeping secrets,” Theo says apologetically. He rubs at the back of his neck the way he and the shadow both do when they’re feeling embarrassed or nervous. 

“How do we know you?” Pat asks, frowning. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can say,” Theo apologizes. 

“Why not?” Pat demands, frustrated. 

“Do you hear that?” Theo says. 

The crackling has grown louder still. Fire. 

“I need to go stop that from consuming this place entirely before you w- before you figure this out. Sorry. I wish I could help more but it’s all so unstable, you know? They don’t teach you how to do this in guardian school,” he says with a fake smile. 

He gently rouses Concrete, who makes an unhappy sound at being awoken. Then he picks the cat up and sets it down on the ground as he stands up. 

“You were in pieces over this just a little while ago. Why are you so calm now?” you ask as you follow Theo to the door. 

“Well… I think it’s a little like defusing a bomb. Either I’ve gotten this right, or we’re all doomed already. I can’t bring myself to worry about it now,” he says. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pat shouts as they follow the two of you. 

“You’ll figure it out. You’re very close already. Now um… Please don’t try to follow me? It’s very important you finish this. Or else… Well, it would be bad,” he says. 

He starts to slowly fade out, his image getting dimmer and dimmer until he’s only a silhouette, a shadow. 

“We’re not just going to let you face whatever danger on your own,” Pat says, crossing their arms, “Even if I am pissed at you for being secretive. And cryptic.” 

You do not make any comments about hypocrisy because now is not the time. 

“You won’t be able to follow me if you try. I’m going to try to add another layer or two of insulation. Try to keep her from finding her way to you before… Well. I can’t say. I’m sorry. I know this is frustrating… Um. Goodbye for now. I’ll see you on the other side,” Theo rambles. Then he steps through the door without opening it. 

Pat immediately tries to open the door. It is locked. 

The windows no longer show the woods outside. 

It seems the two of you are stuck here, for now. 

Next

#choose your own adventure #writeblr #interactive fiction #original writing

[lewis-winters]

Day 16: Victory

Part of my OC-tober 2022 (that will get fucking finished in 2024 so help me god)! Another Baldur's Gate 3 one, folks!

This was just an excuse to write a Tadfools puppy pile and also a little dropped hint to whatever is going on between Halsin/my Tav. Again, some Bloodweave in there. Because I care them. And Shadowheart being clingy, because I like that, too. Team As Family, of course.

Also! A tiny depiction of a stray headcanon of mine: being a particularly stubborn and petty godless Paladin means breaking the habit of using gods’ names in vain so, Pasiphaë often incites the ‘Great fuck’ or ‘Holy shit’ when truly exasperated or in a situation that might have had her previously calling for Ilmater. She does this out of spite. I love her.

tw: allusions to Astarion’s whole backstory; they’re all traumatized and pretending so hard that they aren’t

As soon as the sun sets, they go and set Cazador’s Palace ablaze.

Between Gale’s fireball, Shadowheart’s conjured elemental, a gallon of gasoline Astarion had filched from an abandoned food stall, and their overall enthusiasm, they make quick work of the old place in little under two hours. With the amount of destruction that has been wrought upon the city already, nobody bats an eye at the raging flames, nor at the four lunatics that started it. The only ones who do are their Harper allies, who find them sitting together on the Lower City Wall a relatively safe distance away, surveying their handiwork from under some curtains they’d stolen from the ballroom and are now using as blankets to keep warm.

“We were wondering where you were,” Jaheira sighs, making herself comfortable on the ground with them as the rest of her team scouts ahead, checking to make sure the damage doesn’t spread anywhere else. “When we saw the brain fall, our first thought was to search for you in the Chionthar’s waters. Were you here the whole time?”

Nobody answers for a long moment. Nobody moves. They simply watch the flames, its blaze and its warmth enough to evoke the sun.

Finally, Pasiphaë blinks, slowly, like she’s just been awoken from a dream. “We hid by the docks until the sun set,” she tells Jaheira, flatly. “Slept some.”

What a sorry sight they must have been: huddled together behind some barrels and crates like a litter of abandoned kittens, licking their wounds and attempting to crawl into each other’s skin—the very antithesis to the image of victory.

They couldn’t help it, though; the overwhelming silence in their minds where six other presences had been was disconcerting, to say the least. After nearly a year of sharing their tadpole telepathic link, suddenly being unable to feel each other, mentally, incited a desire in all of them to feel each other tangibly, instead. Even Astarion, who in different circumstances would have turned his nose up at the mere idea of cuddling, did not protest when Shadowheart so much as crawled into his lap, and simply turned his face into the crook of Gale’s neck while Pasiphaë circled her arms around all of them best she could. It was difficult, too, to simply dismiss the absent pieces of their seven-way connection. Pasiphaë had wondered, aloud, if Wyll and Karlach also felt the loss. Or if Lae’zel missed it, now, with as much intensity as she had despised it, then. Nobody had wanted to follow that trail of thought.

It ached too much.

Instead, they’d made plans. Serious ones at first, with the Crown of Karsus still in pieces in the Chionthar and majority of the city reduced to rubble and ruin. But the more they talked of it, the more they went in circles. Those plans were for a future a bit farther from reach. Complicated. They wanted—needed something simple.

Shadowheart had been the one to suggest burning Cazador’s Palace to the ground; arson sounded much more invigorating than drinking themselves into a stupor at the nearest tavern. Once they’d unanimously agreed, they’d quickly fallen asleep, tucked tightly against each other. Waiting out the sun.

“I’m sorry,” Pasiphaë tells Jaheira. “We worried you, didn’t we?”

“No more than you usually do,” Jaheira says, waving a dismissive hand. To Astarion, she asks; “do you intend to see this blaze all the way through to its ashes?”

“Not if you promise something better, darling,” Astarion shrugs. He’s managed to slot himself sideways upon Gale’s lap, arms wrapped around his wizard’s neck, legs slung over thighs. Nuzzling into him, he recalls; “what was it? A night of hedonistic debauchery?”

Gale has his eyes closed, weary. “Hm. I think you have to count me out this time, ‘Star.”

“The short length of your sentences are starting to concern me, Gale,” Shadowheart says, from her spot against Pasiphaë, her arm intertwined with hers. Her head on her shoulder. “So long as this hedonistic debauchery involves a bed—”

Astarion snorts, an undignified sound. “How straight forward of you, Shadowheart.”

“Is the Elfsong still standing?” Pasiphaë asks Jaheira, ignoring the new wave of bickering that’s begun.

“Tall and proud, with barely a scratch,” Jaheira tells her. “I must warn you, though. A difficult conversation awaits you there.”

The bickering ceases and three pairs of curious ears perk up. Pasiphaë struggles not to roll her eyes. “For tomorrow,” she says, to both Jaheira and audience, before stretching her legs out with a groan. “For now: home. And rest.”

They get up with some struggle, sore and tired, pins and needles rushing through their stiff limbs as they pick their way through the smoking city toward camp. They cling to each other still, even when it makes walking through narrow alley ways tough. But it doesn’t slow them down at all. The moon has barely made it up into the sky before the Elfsong finally looms before them, a welcome sight.

Halsin is waiting for them at the entrance, whole, largely unharmed, and pacing. He hasn’t clocked them yet.

“You don’t have to engage him,” Gale reassures her with a whisper. “Halsin has always been a reasonable man; if we were to tell him that you wish to be left alone tonight, he would no doubt honor that request.”

“You don’t have to get between us,” Pasiphaë tells him. “But I appreciate it.”

Luckily, it doesn’t come to that—before she can even so much as make eye contact with the druid, the door of the Elfsong opens, and her children spill out.

“Mama,” Serafina gasps in Elvish, as she and her brother practically throw themselves at Pasiphaë. They’re not quite as small as they used to be, but Pasiphaë still catches them well enough and only stumbles a bit. “Phaë, oh thank the goddess, we thought you—I thought—”

“Oh, my baby,” Pasiphaë coos, holding her close as she begins to cry. “It’s alright. I’m alright. We’re alright.”

Everybody graciously gives them privacy—though from the corner of her eye she sees Halsin hesitate, just a moment, before Jaheira pulls him inside the building—leaving them to relocate to one of the tables still intact out front, waiting out the worst of the water works as Serafina blubbers and hiccups her way through words. By the time she’s calmed down, the world about them has quieted into a near hush, sans perhaps some lucky crickets. It’s still quite early into the evening, but even for a city as robust and bustling as Baldur’s Gate, being invaded by an army of cultists and mind-flayers would significantly damper the night life. On the bright side, there’s less vampire spawn and Bhaal followers in it, now. “This city is not so bad,” Pasiphaë snorts. “Now that we cleaned it up, some, I mean.”

“I’m sick of it,” Serafina sniffles, shaking her head. “I think. I think it’s about time I moved.”

Xenodius chuckles. “I was just jesting about that, you know?”

“No. I know you were. But I’m not so stubborn now as to dismiss the wisdom behind the jest. Besides,” Serafina smiles. “Phaë’s wizard has sold me on the idea of Waterdeep.”

“Well. It’s not Neverwinter.” But at least it isn’t the fucking Gate, goes unsaid.

“I want you to come with me, Phaë.”

Pasiphaë blinks. Then blinks some more. “You—”

“Please don’t say you want me to have a life of my own. I have that. I’d still like for you to be in it.”

“I… wasn’t going to say that,” Pasiphaë lies, grasping for other arguments she might have. “It’s just… Waterdeep is so awfully far, linnon dithen, and the house—who will take care of the house?”

“I will!” Xenodius protests. “I’ve inherited your propensity for bringing home strays, you know. Elias and I will need more space, soon.” He reaches out and takes Pasiphaë’s hand. “That house is too big for you, Phaë.”

He does have a point. But Pasiphaë isn’t going to give them both the satisfaction of being right without working for it, just a bit. “Have you two been talking about me behind my back?”

“Of course.”

Pasiphaë rolls her eyes. “Such brats.”

“We were just worried about you,” Serafina says, so, so patient. Since when has she become so patient? All at once, Pasiphaë’s throat tightens with emotion, and she has to blink rapidly to keep it all at bay. “That house… it has a lot of happy memories. But there are many bad ones, too. I lost Phaedra and Mel in that house. I thought I lost you in that house—” Pasiphaë winces. “—There’s been more bad than good that’s happened there, recently. I don’t like the idea of you wallowing in that for the rest of your life. Perhaps it’s time for some where new?”

“Sera—”

“Or you can go with Halsin, if that’s what you want!”

Pasiphaë feels like her heart’s been tossed into the air. “What.”

“I mean. I thought—” Serafina fidgets, her turn now to grasp for something to say. “You know I don’t mind, right? You aren’t… I don’t think you’re replacing Mel at all! Odi doesn’t, either.”

Xenodius nods, enthusiastically. “I think he’s nice, Mama.”

Oh, great fuck, deliver her. “I am not ready to have this conversation with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because Halsin and I are most definitely not like that.” She doesn’t try and specify what that means, afraid to lose the plausible deniability in lacking a proper label.

Despite her efforts, though, the siblings seem to understand it perfectly. Exchanging glances that are a bit too knowing for her comfort, they look to her, frowning. “Oh?” Sera says, an eyebrow raised. “I… Are you sure?”

Pasiphaë flounders for an answer. She can’t find one, so she just doesn’t answer at all.

They stay for a few more moments, before Pasiphaë’s growling stomach and growing anxiety prompts them to go inside. Everybody else is waiting around the fire pit for them, idly chatting between themselves. Shadowheart has the Owlbear sprawled across her lap while Astarion has Scratch in his. Tara has found Gale as well, kneading biscuits into his lap while meowing and mrrp-ing what Pasiphaë suspects to be admonishments and endearments.

Through all this, Halsin is cradling a slumbering Yenna, the child the only thing keeping him from getting up and… well. Pasiphaë isn’t sure what he wants to do. From the look on his face, she thinks he might want to kiss her. Or maybe tell her that he never wants to see her again. It would take more than a cursory look for Pasiphaë to determine which it really is, but she’s not ready to take more than a glance. Especially with everybody else discretely staring and wondering too loud without saying a word.

Pasiphaë looks at Jaheira, and sure enough, the druid is looking at her already, an eyebrow raised in question. Pasiphaë shakes her head. Jaheira rolls her eyes.

Dinner is a subdued affair. Nobody really wants to talk all that much. Or eat much, either. But Odi’s paternal instincts kick in, and he forces them to stomach a few bites, even when the tavern’s stew is a bit too bland for their tastes. Serafina gives up some of her own blood for Astarion’s meal, and Pasiphaë hugs her daughter extra tight to thank her for her generosity.

“It’s nothing,” Sera tells her, and Astarion, too. She smiles at him, and for a moment looks like she wants to say more, but thinks better of it. “You’re… uh. You’re welcome.” Astarion appears grateful for her intuition.

Sleep comes quick. They’re less huddled together about it, with Gale and Astarion retiring together to their own cot while Pasiphaë acquires both her children and Shadowheart in hers. Pasiphaë wants to grumble something about being made into an elf-sized teddy bear by two fully grown elves far too old to be sleeping in their mother’s bed, but decides to keep it to herself. Shadowheart is still grieving the loss of her parents after all, it’s no use accidentally prodding that wound for the sake of faux-surliness. If she could help curb that by holding her the way she did her own children after a particularly nasty nightmare, then Pasiphaë resolutely doesn’t mind being slowly crushed to death. They push together three cots to fit all of them together with Pasiphaë in the middle—and if it so happens to be within sight of Gale and Astarion’s cot and Halsin’s place by the fire, well. Nobody says anything.

They let exhaustion take them as soon as their heads hit the pillows.

--

Linnon dithen means ‘little singer’ in Tolkein's Sindarin. Forgotten Realms doesn’t actually have any official Elvish conlang (aside from the few official words in that one dictionary), so I substituted it with Sindarin instead.

Serafina also switches between calling her mother(s) Mama and their nicknames, while Odi prefers to just call them Mama. Pasiphaë and Melisandre had really tumultuous relationships with their own parents/guardians and I imagine weren’t so precious about parental monikers as a result. Odi prefers calling them Mama, though. I think that's just the kind of person he is. To their other children (Sera and Phaedra), they were Mama in times of heightened emotion while any other time they were Phaë and Mel.

#estrella_marie #stella's oc-tober 2022 #bg3 #pasiphaë elago #i am getting Attached to pasiphae A Normal Amount #my next pieces will be about how fucking Insane She Is Actually and they're... so much fun #not hbo war

[snowflakeanimelover]

Red Feathers(Hawks/Keigo Takami x Female Reader)[REWRITTEN]

Part 3

See Masterlist for more parts

— — — —

Author here: Red Feathers will be rewritten, so parts will be coming slowly. If you like it, reblogs and comments will be much appreciated! Let me know what you think :)

— — — —

The brisk moonlight sneaks its way through the curtains covering the windows. A bright light emitting from a room shines its way through the darkness of the living room. Hawk is awoken by the sounds of movement and shuffling of paper. His sharp eyes open at a quick speed; a habit he can’t seem to get rid of after turning into a bird. His golden irises squint when he sees the bright light of a room close to him. Hawk walks the best he could to the edge of the couch and jumps down with a soft landing onto the wooden floor. He lets out a quiet growl at the frustratingly slow pace he walks to get to the light. With his wing broken at the moment, he can’t really go as fast as he’d like.

Approaching the room with the beaming light casting out of it, he notices a figure moving about with piles upon piles of paper scattered in the room. (Y/N), the girl who saved his life, was whispering to herself as she stood over a pile of filing folders and papers. Her figure is bent halfway over while she looks through a folder. Her hair was disheveled from restless sleep and her once bright eyes were now dull from color. She looked terribly tired and unconditionally wild. 

Just by watching her, Hawk could tell (Y/N)’s brain was overflowing with thoughts. After a bit of observing, Hawk thought it best to announce his appearance. With a click of his tongue and a low rumble in his chest, (Y/N)’s eyes meet his golden ones. 

“Oh…Hawk.” She mumbles in slight surprise. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

Yes, Hawk thought, but he refrained from answering honestly. From the clear stress you were in right now, he didn’t want to make it worse with your guilt being built on top. “Uh…no. I’m still trying to get used to being…a bird.” He clarifies, not completely lying. He looks down at his odd bird feet that he is still trying to get used to. He wishes for his human feet once more. As much as he’d also wish to sleep more of his very first actual peaceful sleep, it’s pretty difficult for him to actually lay down with his bird features.

(Y/N) nods. “Right. Makes sense. I couldn’t sleep either.” She continues looking through some folders she has around her as she speaks. 

“How long have you been up?” He asks, realizing it was still partly dark out by looking through her window. Hawk slowly walks through the room, soon guessing that it’s the girls bedroom. He slightly cringed at the fact of how tall (Y/N) and the piles of paper are compared to him.

The girl hums in thought, her hand moving while writing notes. “About six hours?” She asks herself. 

“What?!” Hawk exclaims. “Why so early?”

“Nightmares.” She says it so fast, it was like clock work to her. And in truth, it was. (Y/N) has had nightmares all her life, she’d think she’d be used to them by now. Instead of crying all night and restlessly trying to get more sleep, she busies herself with work. 

"To think you'd run away from your dream like this?"

"How can we see you as our daughter?"

"It wasn't my dream to begin with." (Y/N) cries her little heart out. Her tiny hands rub against her eyes so hard that the skin around them starts to puff up painfully.

"We are top ranked heroes! We wanted you to become successful in life! How can you say that?"

Clearly, her attempt at staying busy so early in the morning hasn’t helped. The same conversation from her childhood echoes in her mind over and over. The loud crack of her pencil being so tightly gripped in her hand fell on deaf ears. 

“(Y/N).” 

The girl glances behind herself at the red feathered bird, her hand releasing its tight grip on the pencil. It was just a dream, she has to remind herself. With a quiet laugh, she straightens up, looking at Hawk with a small smile. “You hungry? I am.” 

Hawk doesn’t follow the girl right away. His eyes linger on the spot she just left. From where he stood, he could see the notes she had written next to a mugshot of a man on the paper. As curious as he was, he wasn’t paying attention so much to the notes. For a bit longer, he decides it’s best to leave his thoughts alone and follow the girl, now in fact getting hungry. A broken pencil shouldn’t be so suspicious, right?

— — — —

“So…what do you eat?” Her voice echoes throughout the kitchen as Hawk approaches her. 

Hawk grumbles as he waddles himself into the kitchen. “Don’t start that. I eat regular human food, thank you very much.”

The girl chuckles. “Is that so?” Her hand reaches into the fridge, picking out certain things that she can make. “So, what did you eat out of the garbage cans?” She peaks a glance at the bird, smiling at the way he scrunched his eyebrows together in discomfort. 

“Don’t remind me.”

She sets down a carton of eggs along with a loaf of bread. The frying pan clanks loudly against the stove as she sets it there, now reaching for the butter to spread on the bottom of the pan. “Eggs?” She enquiries.

Hawk hums in agreement. “Eggs sound good.”

Before (Y/N) could continue her cooking, she gently picks up the red feathered bird, setting him on the counter. “How's your wing? Feeling better?” Turning back to her breakfast, she cracks some eggs to put in the pan.

Hawk looks over at his bandaged wing, gently twitching it to see how it felt. “I still can’t fly….but they’ll grow back.” He says confidently. But his eyes widened at his own words. 

(Y/N) looks at him in question. “Grow back? What are you talking about?” Shit, I was thinking about my original human form, he thinks. The girl giggles loudly, “You didn’t lose your wing, you know.”

He glances once more at his bright red wings. “U-um…I meant the lost feathers. They’ll grow.”

She continues to giggle as she shakes her head. “I guess that makes sense. I wonder how fast they’ll grow.” Her eyes wander to the ceiling, her hand cupping her cheek in thought.

Hawk looked down at the wooden floor from his spot on the counter. His own mind wonders about his many times of losing his feathers from battles. Even as the fastest and youngest pro hero alive, he still had a hard time fighting tough villains. But now that he’s a bird…things are different. And he hates it.

“I think I saw somewhere that it takes about a week, right?”

“Two days.” He says flatly.

(Y/N) looks at him in slight shock. “R-really? Okay then…” The odd behavior she was getting from the bird was certainly suspicious. But who wouldn’t act in such a way after only meeting for one whole day? 

The smell of eggs and toast sneaked its way into their noses, stopping them from continuing their pointless talk. As soon as the delicious breakfast was on the plates and put in front of them, they eat silently as they think. 

(Y/N) thought about how much work she had to do. A criminal escaped from jail just last week. Her friends haven’t contacted her about their progress of finding the criminal, and she hasn’t done the same. Not that she has much progress, anyways. But, now that she has a new responsibility, she should start today to try to get his memories back.

Hawk had other things on his mind. Glorious fresh food never tasted so good in his life. Although he’d wish it to be his favorite, chicken, he isn’t complaining. Horrible memories of his time searching for food in garbage cans through many dark and disgusting alleyways were slipping away while he ate his breakfast. He was truly grateful for a young girl to take him in. He still wonders why she did what she did; to risk her life for his. He supposes that conversation would be for another time.

(Y/N) cleared her throat when she finished her food, plate empty and clean as she washes it faster than Hawk could see. “Okay. I have a plan for today.” She starts.

Hawk chews his last bite, sliding the empty plate towards her with his clawed foot. He watches her take the plate and wash it for him in the sink. “I’m listening.”

“How does walking around the city sound? Since you lost some of your memories after turning into…that,” she nods at his bird form, “I’m hoping that something in the city will jog your memory.” She smiles at him.

It took Hawk a bit to answer her. His golden-brown eyes stared fondly at the girl. (Y/N) didn’t notice the way his eyes sparkled at her in admiration. He looked away awkwardly, nodding in agreement to her idea. “Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.”

“Great! First, I have to make a phone call.”

He lets her go to her room, now alone in the kitchen. He took this time to wonder his eyes. Waking up so late last night in a panic didn’t necessarily give him the opportunity to observe the small apartment. Although, at his bird height, it was pretty large.

A particular picture took his interest right off the bat. Across the room from where he sat stood a frame picture. The glare from the now arrived sun makes it impossible for the bird to see the details. He took a few steps forward, quickly noticing he was at the edge of the counter. His golden-brown eyes glance down at the wooden floor, looking a bit high from where he was. With a broken wing, he wasn’t sure how he’d get himself down without help.

Glancing where she left, hearing her muffled voice, and back to the picture, he decided that seeing the picture was his top priority. “Well…” he mumbles to himself, “curiosity killed the cat…” With a long sigh, he looks back down at the far away floor. I have one good wing…this shouldn’t be too bad, he thinks.

He closed his eyes to have a clear and confident mind, but he couldn’t help looking back at the floor. Particularly thinking about the height proximity. “Come on, Hawks. You’ve flown through the sky at the highest point practically your whole life.” He shakes his body, as if to ruffle his bright red feathers, and takes a deep breath to take off. “Jumping one foot off the ground should be nothing.”

Closing his eyes for only a second, his clawed feet push him off the counter. His good wing flaps uncontrollably and before he knew it, he was falling sideways. “Shit!” The side of his face lands ungracefully onto the hardwood floor, a loud thud bouncing off from the rough contact. 

He groans, pushing himself up with his good wing. “Yeah, the cat is dead.” He grumbles when he manages to stand back up. He rubbed the side of his beak with his wing, hoping it’d feel better as a burning sensation started to erupt.

With a shake of his head, and another ruffle of his feathers, he was back in business. Preferably acting like nothing happened. His clawed feet lead him to the picture, now able to see the details. Albeit it was now a bit higher than him, sitting on a coffee table, but the faces were clear. A family, he notices. At the top stood a teenage boy with bright white hair. His eyes are dark blue, different from the rest of the family members. Under him sat an older couple. A woman, in the late thirties, had long black hair pulled back into a low bun and brown eyes. The man beside her, in the early forties, had dark brown hair and bright emerald green eyes. Under them sat a young girl, in the early teens. 

Hawk recognized the young girl. (Y/N). She was clearly younger than she is now, but something else caught his eye. A small little detail that only he could tell from a normal citizen. The parents and the boy were all smiling, but (Y/N) remained straight faced.

As a pro hero who was trained all his life as a spy, it’s his job to notice the small things. In most homes, a family picture can tell all kinds of stories. One member not smiling like the rest can mean one thing. Something didn’t go right in (Y/N)’s family. Obviously, he has to gather more information on this story for a better understanding, but now he knows that something is up.

He was so engrossed in the picture that he didn’t hear the girl’s footsteps approaching behind him. Her hand reaches out to the picture, slamming it face down to hide it. The motion frightened the bird as his body flinched. His eyes look up to meet her stern ones, a small frown gracing her lips. 

“Snooping, are we?” Her voice wasn’t as lighthearted as before during breakfast.

Her family is a touchy subject.

“I’m sure it’s normal for a guest to look at pictures you have laying around.” He comments.

Her jaw clenches at his words, her body now retreating. She stared at him for what felt like hours, her intense stare making the bird fidgety. How could he not when he was much smaller than her? The girl could easily stomp and instantly kill him. 

(Y/N)’s eyelids softly close, her face now relaxing as she takes a short breath. Hawk watches as her hand sticks her phone into her new jean back pocket. New, as in, fresh clothes. Opening her eyes once more, a smile comes back into place. 

“Sorry for the wait. You ready?” The girl turns around, grabbing a bag to put on her shoulders. Her body stands by the door as she waits for him.

Hawk hesitated to follow. Just from that short scene of his new partner, all he gathered was…confusion. Sure, most people have family problems and drama, but something didn’t seem right about her reaction, Hawks thinks to himself. There’s only so much someone can give away at once. 

“Ready.”

#my hero academia #mha #bnha #hawks #hawks as a hawk #hawks as a bird #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #female reader #reader #x reader #mysteries #fanfic #part 3 #multiple parts #slow burn

[bluesfortheredj]

Midnight snack.

A/N: Smut ahead.

Your eyes wander from the television screen to the small furry face looking up at you from the dog bed, and you roll your eyes with a tut.

“Well I don’t know where he is!” you sigh, “it’s no good looking at me for answers. Have a nap and hopefully he’ll be back by the time you wake up.”

You’re met with a look of disdain that you didn’t think possible from a dog, and he shuffles around in a circle before flopping down with an audible huff before closing his eyes to get a break from your nonsense.

“Fine, be like that… but don’t forget who gave you extra chicken from their own dinner earlier,” you turn back to the telly and cover your face with your hands with a laugh, “why am I talking to the dog like he understands me?!”

This had been your routine for the last few weeks now while Rufus was away touring; get up, walk the dog, go to work, come home, walk the dog again, dinner, then talking to yourself for a couple of hours before heading to bed alone and getting a rushed text or call from your other half before you fell asleep.

He was finally coming home tonight though, and you were trying your best to stay up for the big return but the way your eyelids were fluttering shut after a busy week at work was not a good sign at all. You couldn’t lie, it wasn’t the easiest life to live being with someone whose work schedule was as erratic as his was, but those sweet moments when you were reunited made the months of being apart absolutely worth it. It was just the time in between, when you had the typical looks of pity from friends and family when you turned up at a gathering alone again, that the loneliness managed to creep in.

“Argh!” you yelp, almost falling off the edge of the sofa after drifting off during the film you’d put on, “oh shit.”

Your heart is racing as you sit up and fumble around for your phone to check the time, and when you see it’s past one in the morning you decide to finally give up and head to bed instead of attempting to force yourself to stay awake. The curled up bundle of fur on the plush cushion by the side of the TV cabinet signifies you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stay up for the long awaited return either, and you tiptoe past him to the bedroom, gently turning off the light as you go.

“Night little one,” you whisper.

It doesn’t take you long to give your teeth a quick brush then throw on an old t-shirt, and you’re within the cosy confines of the bed within a matter of minutes, snuggling under the duvet with a satisfied sigh after switching the bedside lamp off. Within a few minutes you’ve returned to the deep sleep you’d fallen in to on the sofa, and it’s another two hours before you’re awoken by an arm snaking around your waist and a pair of lips tenderly pressing against your cheek.

“Hmm?” you mumble as you try and figure out if you’re dreaming or not.

“It’s me,” Rufus whispers through the dark.

“The man of my dreams?”

“Yep.”

“Jason Momoa?!” you gasp.

You look to the side and can just about make out Ru’s unimpressed expression in the moonlight that seeps through the partially shut blinds and he tuts, “hilarious,” he states flatly, “I’m so sorry to disappoint but it’s the second choice… y’know, the one with blonde hair who plays the drums?”

“Oh right, R-”

“Don’t even think about saying Roger,” he warns.

You laugh aloud before rolling onto your back so you can see him properly, then you place your hands on his cheeks and take in the sight of his handsome face properly, “I wouldn’t dream of it,” you smile softly.

He leans over to your side of the bed and clicks the lamp on then you both stare in wonder at one another for a while, the soppy grins on your faces making you both giggle like giddy teenagers. You needed this time to take in each other’s appearance in person after such a long time apart; you’d seen each other through screens of course, but nothing could come close to the sheer joy of being together again in person, and it was your moment to notice all the subtle little changes in the other.

“You look tired,” you sigh gently, sweeping your thumbs beneath the dark shadows of his eyes.

“I’m fucking shattered,” he laughs, “but I’m finally home and I couldn’t be happier.”

You bring his face down to yours until your lips meet in a long awaited kiss then he moves over so that his body is hovering above yours, and your arms wrap around his torso, needing to feel the familiar comfort of his body weight that you’d missed so dearly over the last few weeks. Hands wander, the covers are displaced as your bodies wriggle around underneath them to switch positions every now and again, and short pants are the only noise when your lips reluctantly part for breath.

“Don’t you want to sleep?” you question as he lifts the hem of your top and pulls it up over your head.

He shakes his head from side to side, “nah, not yet… do you?”

His lips trail open mouthed kisses from your neck to your chest and you melt beneath his touch, “nope, not now I don’t.”

His tongue laps at your skin to remember the taste of home which consisted mainly of a sweet cocoa thanks to your body lotion, and he works his way further down your body until you’re able to slip your hand underneath his chin and lift his head to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his face now full of concern at you interrupting him.

“More than okay,” you reassure, “I think you should make your way back up here though.”

He moves back up your body leaving quick pecks as he does, then you carefully guide him onto his back and watch as his golden hair falls onto the pillow to reveal his beautiful face in all its glory. You give him a heartfelt kiss before mirroring the actions he took with you until you reach his boxers, and with one swift movement you hook him out of the underwear and place your lips on the tip of his hardening length.

“Oh, woah woah,” he groans, his entire body on fire thanks to the lack of intimate touch from you recently.

He briefly lifts his head to look down as your mouth moves lower, but he soon falls back onto the pillow with a loud moan of your name as you begin to bob your head up and down along his shaft, hollowing out your cheeks with each enthusiastic suck. It didn’t matter that it was almost four in the morning, he deserved the attention after such a long time away, and you were definitely more awake now thanks to him.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he exhales with stuttered breaths.

You hum in agreement with him and it jolts his overly sensitive body, bucking his hips into you and causing you to gag a little. He looks down apologetically but you simply give him a wink to let him know you were okay, and when you hear his pants increase in frequency you know he’s already close to letting go. You couldn’t blame him, you were feeling as though you could quite easily orgasm even though there was nothing directly stimulating you, and when he eventually spills across your tongue you find yourself moaning along with him at the sensation of it all.

“How are you feeling?” you sigh as you crawl back up to the pillow and flop down on it.

He stares at the ceiling in an elated stupor for a moment before smiling to himself and blowing a puff of air from his lips, “better than ever.”

You settle back into covers as you had done before he got here while he briefly leaves to clean up, but when he returns he’s quick to press his body against your back and wrap his arms around your frame, and you let out a contented sigh as you place your hand on his.

“So did you miss me?” he enquires softly, squeezing you to him.

“Not as much as that little furry fella out there, and I guarantee that you missed him more than you missed me,” you chuckle.

There’s a momentary pause as Rufus stares at the back of your head with a frown then he shakes his head, “he’s cute, but not as cute as you are.”

You wriggle around in his embrace until you’re facing him, “you’re only saying that because of what just happened,” you tease.

His lips turn up into that roguish smile that makes your heart race, “what just happened is simply a bonus to loving you,” he runs his fingers through your hair tenderly, “wow, it really is good to be home.”

Request: Maybe one where Rufus comes Home late from tour and reader is sleeping In bed but wakes up when cuddle her + more

#rufus taylor #rufus taylor fanfic #rufus taylor imagine #rufus taylor x reader #rufus taylor x you

[thefictioness]

1. Dream

This work is part of a Kuroshitsuji Fictober series. For more information, click here!

It was the dead of the night, and all in the mansion was quiet. The young master had been put to bed by Sebastian, who then returned to his own room to fill out administrations at his desk. The other servants finished their tasks for that day and were sent to their bedchambers by Tanaka. Baldroy and Finny had said goodnight to the others, and were now lying on one ear. Or at least, Baldroy was lying on one ear, shielding his other ear with his pillow, trying to drown out the snoring from Finny, who was positioned like a starfish. Bardroy has had to sleep in all kinds of excruciating situations during his time as a soldier, but somehow Finny’s need to mow the grass in the middle of the night always took the cake. Reluctantly, Bardroy opened an eye to glance over to the other bed. In the dark, he could make out Finny’s form, now tossing and turning, kicking his blanket to the ground. “That won’t do…” Bardroy grumbled to himself. He got up, his mind stuck between muting Finnian with his pillow or tucking him in tight so he wouldn't catch a cold, when suddenly his young companion shrieked and sat upright. “Waaaaaah!” “Finny! Bloody hell!” Bardroy ducked for cover as Finny flung his arms around in a frenzy. Breathing heavily, he seemed to finally calm down after recognizing Bardroy’s voice. Bardroy turned on the light on their nightstand and gleaned over to Finny. In the flickering light, he saw that the youngster was drenched in sweat and teary eyed. He sat down at the edge of Finny’s bed. “Had a bad dream?” Finny didn’t respond. Instead, he hugged his knees to his chest. Bardroy chewed his lip. He couldn’t exactly fathom what Finny had gone through before arriving at the manor, but telling from his reaction to his nightmare, it could only mean one thing. You see it all the time in military folk, as Bardroy had awoken to his own and his comerade’s screams more than once. He placed his hand on Finny’s head, who flinched but didn’t swat him away. “Don’t worry, you’re out of that place now. And no one here will treat you that way. You’re safe.” The youngster began to sob. “I… I felt the needles again… And I heard them… Their voices…” Bardroy frowned and patted Finny on the back. At that moment, a knock was heard on their door. Finny yelped, while Bardroy got up and took a combative stance. “Who’s there?” He demanded. “It is me, Sebastian. The two of you are making quite some noise.” Bardroy sighed in relief and opened the door. There stood the butler, Sebastian, holding a candle and still dressed in his work attire. Doesn’t this guy ever sleep? “Finny was having a nightmare. He’s very shaken.” Sebastian glanced around Bardroy to take a look at Finny, who was still huddled on his bed. He sighed. “Try to calm him down some more while I fetch some water.” Bardroy nodded. Sebastian disappeared around the corner. It didn’t take long before he returned. He handed Finny a cup of warm milk and Bardroy a wet cloth. While Finny downed the milk, Bardroy tried to dab his head, drenching off the sweat. Finny hiccupped. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sebastian,” he sobbed. Before Sebastian could answer, however, Bardroy jumped in. “No need to be sorry. Everyone has things from their past that are difficult to deal with. You’re an exceptional gardener and there is no way they’ll lay you off over something trivial like this.” He looked over to Sebastian for confirmation, but the butler was just standing in the corner, an unreadable smile on his face.  Finny put the cup down. “Thank you, I’m feeling much better,” he smiled weakly. Bardroy grinned. “No problem.” He handed the cup and cloth back to Sebastian. “Very well then, get some more sleep. I need you both to do your best again tomorrow.” “Yes Mr. Sebastian!” They said in unison. With that, Sebastian left and the two got settled into their beds once more. Bardroy rolled to his side, making eye contact with Finny. “Thank you Bardroy.” “No problem Finny, that’s just what comrades are for. Good night.”

He turned off the lights.

#kuroshitsuji #fanfiction #fanfic #black butler #phantomhive manor #sebastian michaelis #bardroy #finny #finnian #bard #phantomhive servants #butler #demon #fictober #dream

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

Metting With The Unsub/ The Aftermath.

Warning mentions of blood. Angry FBI agent. taunting by an unsub.

Spencer and Holly slept soundly through the night despite the horrific ordeal they had both been through. Comforted by each other 's arms and the sound of each other 's heartbeat, knowing that they both understood each other so well and would always be there for each other. At least they hoped they would.

They were awoken by a knock at the door. It was hotch checking to see how Holly was doing.

Spencer got up out of bed, gently laying Holly back down after gently removing his arms from around her to open the door and say hello to Hotch.

Good morning, Reid. How is Holly doing? Hotch asked from the outside of the door.

Doing a little bit better, Reid answered, rubbing his eyes. Still tired.

May I come in? Hotch asked.

Oh, yes, of course, Reid answered him, moving out of the way of the door. I'm sorry, I just woke up, He apologized.

I understand that. Good morning, Holly. I'm glad to see that you're doing a little bit better. And I came to tell you that we found out the name of the man who stabbed you.

you did? holly asked.

Yes, his name is Brian Woodley, and he killed his girlfriend two years ago after catching her with her lover.  and she was wearing a red nightie, just like the one that he dressed all of his victims up in. I'm so sorry to tell you this, Holly but he wants you to come and see him.

What? Why the hell would he want to see her? And why would she want to go see him? He tried to kill her. Does he not remember that? or does he want to try to finish the job? Reid asked angrily, now stomping around the room before throwing himself down on his bed.

he Wants to see the victim who got away. Holly, I totally understand. If you don't want to see him, you are under no obligation to meet with this man. I just wanted to give you the option.

I want to do it. I want to show him the He didn't win. He doesn't have any power over me and that I made it through. I'm a survivor.

Are you sure? Reid asked still sitting on his bed.

Yes, Holly, Are you sure you want to meet with him? You are again or not under any obligation whatsoever. You are an agent and he is the unsub. You don't have to do anything he wants you to do. Hotch reassures her.

I'm sure I want to show him that he is not the winner. We are the BAU. We are the winners.

Two hours later, she's on her way to meet with Brian at the jail Wearing a red shirt and black pants, Holly walks down the hallway of the jail alongside Reid and Hotch.

We will be right on the other side of the glass, watching you. If you need anything Holly you just give a signal and we will be in there, OK? We will not let him touch you. We will not let him hurt you. I promise. Hotch told her.

OK. Thank you. I just want to tell him that he didn't win.

When Holly opens the door, Brian is sitting there handcuffed to the desk. the door behind her, the heels of her boots now clicking on the floor as she approaches the chair across the desk from Brian. With the look of anger on her face, she sits in the chair, puts her hands up on the desk, her fingers interlaced. Hello, Brian, you wanted to see me? She said.

Yes, I did. I wanted to see the face of the bitch who got away. The only one whoever got away, I may add. So you should consider yourself famous, because no other woman ever got away from me. I managed to kill everyone of them.

So is that supposed to make me some kind of celebrity, Brian? Is that why you brought me here? You wanted to meet a celebrity since I wasn't one the first time you stabbed me, But since I survived, am I a celebrity now? Would you like my autograph? Is that what you want? Holly asked him with anger oozing from every word.

No, you're not the celebrity I am. I'm the one that managed to kill 22 women. How many of them did you find, by the way? Because I can assure you, you did not find all of them.

No. I came here to show you that I survived your pathetic little attempt to kill me. And yes, I am the only one that survived. So I'm going to consider myself to be a celebrity. I don't consider you to be anything more than just a lowlife. Who killed his girlfriend just because she didn't want him anymore? Maybe the guy that she was sleeping with was better in bed than you were. You ever think of that, Brian? Maybe the fault was on you. Huh. Brian, Did you ever think of that? Oh, no, of course you didn't. You Subs never take responsibility for yourselves. No, you blame everybody but yourself for your problems.

As Holly continued her verbal assault against Brian. Hotch and Reid watch on the other side of the glass with a look of shock on their face. Where did this kind of behavior come from for Holly?

They were so proud of her for going there and talking to him after everything that he had done to her, everything that she had gone through because of him, they couldn't be prouder.

Every one of you men are exactly the same. Mommy didn't give me enough love. My girlfriend didn't give me enough love. My wife didn't understand me, she told him with a mocking tone. Well, you know what? I didn't come from a good background either. But I didn't become a bad guy. Instead, I became the one who finds the bad guys. Puts pathetic people like you behind bars where they belong.

You talk tough, you little agent, but I know you will never be the same after me. You will Remember Me every time you look at those scars. I have ruined you for life. You will dream of me every night and remember every stab, every drop of blood that I made come from you. You will never, ever be the same.

You know what, Brian? You're right. I've never will be the same after you, But not for the reason that you think. You think that you broke me, but you didn't. You made me stronger. You showed me what I'm capable of. You showed me how strong, how tough, how brave I can be, what I can handle, the kind of pain that I can take, and the most important thing is that my team saved me. That my team will always be there for me. That I will always be there for them. I will walk out of here, Brian, and you never will. I will leave here and go to another state and more places after that, putting people just like you away and then probably some even worse than you. You think you're the worst unsub out there?, you're not even what in the top 10. And that is what I came here for, to tell you exactly how I feel about you and to thank you for showing me how good I can be. You know, you are my first case, and I was a little worried because the girls that you were killing looked like me. And when you got me in that room, I have to admit I did think that it was the end for me. But I won and my team won. And you, you, Brian, are exactly what you've always been, the loser. Goodbye, Brian. You're exactly where you belong. Well, you're close to where you belong. Where you really belong is in hell. But you'll be there one day. Until then, enjoy prison. Oh, and by the way, I made sure that it was made public exactly what you did. How you dressed all those women up and stabbed them because your girlfriend cheated on you. They're going to love you here. Holly told him as she stood up from the desk, sliding her chair back in, before leaving the room and going to meet Hotch and Reid.

When she walked into the room, their mouths were still a gape. Oh my God Holly, you did amazing, Read told her before running to hug her.

Are you OK there? Had to have taken a lot to do, Hotch asked her.

I'm so mad at him, I couldn't even think about being nervous or how hard this was for me to talk about. I just wanted to show him that the BAU is stronger than he ever was or ever will be, and to tell him that he did make me a stronger person, but more than that, you guys made me a stronger person. Both of you. Elle, JJ, Gideon, Morgan, Penelope. You all made me strong. And I know that no matter how dangerous the situation is, all of you will always have my back, same as I will have yours. Thank you so much for allowing me to be a part of this team and for bringing me in and treating me like one of your own.

You're welcome, Holly. And believe me, you are one of us and we will always have your back. If you ever need help with anything, even in your personal life, we will be there for you. We truly are a family here, every one of us. Hotch told her

Thank you, Hotch. I feel like I'm a part of a family here. Can we go home now? Holly asked.

Oh yes. Everybody's waiting for us to take off. They're all packed up and ready to go. They're waiting on the jet. Hotch told her.

OK, well let's not keep them waiting. I have nothing else I need to say to him, Brian, so let's go, she told them as she started walking down the hallway.

When they arrived at the jet, everyone was waiting in there for them high. Holly, how you doing? Morgan asked, jumping out of his seat and reaching for her arm to have her sit where he was previously sitting.

I'm feeling much better, thank you More again, she told him as she sat down.

She was amazing. The kind of rage that came from her was completely unexpected. Where did that anger come from? Reid asked her, sitting next to her.

It came from him taking my weakness and trying to use it against me. He could sense my fear and how I'm confident I was. But now I will never let that happen again. I know that all of you have my back. And I'm sorry for the way that I acted at the beginning of this case, Unsure of myself and wearied, but probably a bit whiny. But I will do better from now on. He showed me what I'm capable of. Better yet, he showed me what we are capable of and no on sub will ever do that to me again. They will never hurt me.

I'm glad that you feel that way. We always wanted you to feel like part of this team, part of our family. The BAU is a family and believe me, you are a part of it, Gideon told her from across the jet.

Thank you, Gideon. I'm proud to be a part of this family.

When they landed and came back to the BAU, Reid grabbed her hand gently and started to talk to her.

Holly, can we talk? He asked her. Of course. What's up?

You and I, we didn't really get to talk after we told each other our back stories. There isn't any weirdness between us, is there? He asked her with worry in his eyes.

Of course not. There's no weirdness between us at all. I am so glad and honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to Share your story with. I've never told anyone my back story. No one knows about it except for my mom. She doesn't even know everything, but my Uncle Joe does. It's my mom doesn't care about me. It's just been my Uncle Joe for a while. So I'm happy to have you to be able to talk to you. And you can talk to me anytime you want to. What happened to you as a child was very unfair. I don't know your father and I hope that you don't take this the wrong way, but I don't like him. Anybody who could hurt Someone Like You is not a good man.

And anyone that could hurt you isn't a good man either, Reid told her, smiling as he held her hand.

Do you think that we could do something sometime on our own time? You know, not where we're on a case? Reid asked, nervously looking at the ground.

Sure. Would you be comfortable having me in your apartment? I could bring a movie we could watch. Or you could come over to my apartment. Either way.

Oh yeah, sure. Uh, yeah, you, you you can come over to my apartment that that'd be nice, yeah, He answered her with so much nervousness in his voice. She thought it was really sweet.

OK, uh, where would you like me to come over That I know of? We don't have a case right now.

What day is this? He asked, looking at his phone. Uh, Tuesday. Sure you can come over tonight or tonight. Would you like to come over? I mean, if that's OK with you, if you have other plans, and then that's fine.

I don't have any plans. Unless, of course, we get a case. Then we'll both have plans. We'll be together anyway, she chuckled.

Yes, that is true. Sure. Uh what? What time would be good for you? Set seven? Would seven be good for you? Is that would be good for me. But if it if it isn't good for you.

She thought his rambling nervously was the cutest thing she'd ever seen. 7:00 O'clock would be fine for me. Reed, did you have a preference of a movie? Because I know one that I would love to show you.

No, no preference. I usually watch foreign films, but I don't know if you speak the language, so it sure whatever movie you'd like to bring, I'd I'd I'd love to see what movie you like.

Read. You don't have to be nervous with me. You're not gonna say anything wrong or do anything wrong or make me pick on you. I've never bully you. I think you're the sweetest boy I've ever met. Man, I'm sorry.

Oh, that's OK. They call me the Boy Genius. The Boy Wonder Pretty boy. So boy or man, either way is fine with me. I don't mind what you call me.

OK, so I'll see you tonight at 7, she told him as she gave him a Peck on the cheek. I hope that wasn't too forward of me. I mean after we shared each other 's stories. I mean, it's not like I planned it. A big old wet one right on your lips, right? She laughed. Trying to play off exactly how attracted she was to him and how much she wishes that he felt the same about her, but she has a suspicion that he might feel the same, judging by his nervousness around her.

Thank you, Holly. I'll try to work on that and not be so nervous around you. I'll see you tonight at 7:00. You have any preference of snacks or drinks? He asked her sweetly.

Not really. So long as there's some snackage, I'm good with it, she answered.

OK, see you tonight, he told her as they both went to their desks to fill out their paperwork about the case that they had just finished. Even though Hatch had done the main paperwork, they had to go over what happened whenever she visited Brian in jail.

Next part coming soon. Sorry it's been so long since I updated this story. My mom hasn't been doing well and being her caregiver, it's been really hard on me, so I haven't had the time to write.

I hope that I did well with this one. I'm trying to do more with my stories go deeper than I have before, and I hope that it's working. As always, please leave comments, they brighten up my day. Love you all. Thank you for reading.

@comboboo​

[fakeloveaskblog]

(Hi, me again. I’m sorry it took so long to send anything in, I’ve been having a bad week and kept putting off writing this, sorry.)

*floats up to Rowen’s car and peeks at who’s inside*

(That’s literally all I had to write, procrastination is a pain.)

Glow Eyes

(no need to say sorry C: i get it. Everyone gets too tired to write sometimes. I get frustrated bout it like every other week. I hope next week treats you better)

Tw: drug use, vague mentions of past abuse

The car had hastily been parked at the side of the park. At first you only saw an empty drivers seat until you looked over and saw Remus sitting in the passenger seat.

There was a constant tapping sound as he bounced his feet against the dashboard. He had his arms crossed while glancing out at the nearby Streets. When he saw your big eyes staring in he jumped from surprise before quickly leaning over to roll down the window so you could come in. You hovered slightly to the left of the wheel.

“Remy better have sent you to tell me they’ve gotten stuck in a sewer gate” He muttered out while sinking lower down on the seat. It only took him grimacing and huffing for a few seconds before he exclaimed “I’ve been waiting half an hour!! 30 minutes!!! 30 ENTIRE minutes!!! I’ve got rats for brains! They should know better than to leave me without stimuli for that long!!! 5 more minutes and I’m biting at the tires!!!”

He sat up in the seat so he could look at you while ranting. His hands idly felt around for something to fidget with, eventually ending up on some straw sticking out of a starbucks cup. All while talking he twisted and pulled in the straw until it looked like a piece of barbed wire.

“Alright so there I am! In my bed! After a wonderful night of dreaming about sharks eating me alive!! I go up look around, y’know Remy slept on the couch last night- We’re still like uhm we’re taking the uhm the uh bed thing night for night yeah- But they’re up! I know! I was shocked too!! They’re like the sleepiest motherfucker on earth!! And they’re like- They’ve been in a really weird mood lately like...”

He searched for the words to describe it. He knew they would naturally be a bit neurotic right now. That he didn’t judge. It was something else.

“Whatever! Not important! So there I am! Newly awoken! Hungry! Like a naked beast in the full moon!! And suddenly Remy is like tearing at me to leave. It was like they had a train to catch! but the train was on fire! And also was gonna explode! I didn’t get to do my morning routine! Didn’t take my meds! Didn’t even get to make my daily smoothie! I was gonna try to mix mint, toothpaste and sour patch kids!!! I’m still wearing my freaking PJ pants! They just pulled me out the door!!”

There was a unusually irritated look on his face. Remus was an erratic and energetic person, not usually an angry or even sour one. You found it a bit strange.

“I don’t have a drivers license! Remy doesn’t have one! But they just had to take Ro-Ro’s pissy car!! And I went along ‘cause- They said they were stopping the car to buy a coffee and some breakfast for me and now they’ve been gone for 30 minutes!! I called them! They didn’t answer!”

Remus crossed his arms and hunched in on himself. He leant his cheek against the window and looked out onto the street. His expression stayed angry. All tense muscles and stretched together skin. But his cheeks had turned red.

“....I thought they were taking me on a date........” The back of his throat tasted like acid “That’s why I went along with their weird mood today...Maybe not a date...just...I dunno.....I thought they wanted to surprise me...show me a nice dumpster...or take me out to an art museum.....I think they only wanted me along to get the keys to the car.....”

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, dragging his fingers down his cheeks so the reds of his eyes stood out like stop signals, before sighing.

“Could you look for them? I don’t think they took their pain meds. I don’t want their bones to have like...exploded!”

You blinked your glowing on and off to say yes to which he let out a strange mix of a sigh and breathe of relief before pointing at the street Remy had walked down onto.

The clouds had turned heavy and grey. The smell of rain weighed down on the buildings around you like birds weighing down powerlines. You rounded the corner into one of those tights pathways between two buildings. Remy wasn’t there but the smell of coffee was so you continued down on it before eventually hearing their voice.

To the right, another pathway, or maybe it was just a plain alley. On the ground laid empty cans and thrown away containers scattered around. Mindlessly thrown away by passerbys in a hurry, until the trash had piled up in chunks. 

Your eyes were looking at the ground so you didn’t notice the man until he had walked right through you. Either he must have been astonishingly rude or you’d  been invisible and he’d been unable to see you. From what could be assumed you weren’t the type to be constantly invisible, even if you were a ghost, unless your subconsciously had noticed something about the man. Something....bad.

The man disappeared down some street and maybe another time you would have followed along if it wasn’t for Remy sitting leant against the alleyway’s wall. There was another stranger standing next to them. They were talking with tense familiarity.

“-The snails are everywhere man! I swear! It’s insane in his apartment right now” The man said.

Remy did a half assed shrug. It’d only been a few days since you’d last seen them and yet they looked so starkly different for such a short time. Their skin glistened from sweat and the skin around their eyes were rash red like they hadn’t slept for days. Their fingers shook, eyelids twitching, breathes hurried and inconsistent.

The stranger took out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He held it out towards them to offer one and they squinted at it.

“Is that the like brand Oswald uses?”

“Fuck should I know. Guess it is”

They pinched his cig between their fingers and put it back into the package. He let out a surprised “Rude!?”. They didn’t want Remus to recognize the smell. Didn’t want him to remember something he didn’t want to.

The man checked his phone “I gotta go. You sure you got some place to stay?” He smiled and reached out his hand to touch their cheek. Remy grimaced but didn’t move away “I know some empty couches-”

“Snail infected ones?” They snarked back.

“Well...yeah but also others man” He let go fo them and their shuttered “I’ll see you in two weeks”

“We didn’t decide shit”

He had started to walk away. He sent them a look and just restated “I’ll see you in two weeks. Don’t overdose”

The man walked right through you and you didn’t bother to look back at him. You moved a bit closer and Remy flinched as they felt your sudden warmth. They were cupping their hands around a few small plastic bags. They didn’t meet your eyes.

“I’m sorry” Was the first thing they said “Those were like- I didn’t know what to do- I knew some of like Oswald’s like dealer friends- I don’t wanna see him. I like I did extra like ask so he wasn’t coming okay. I made sure of it. I just texted the other dealers. I’m not gonna let him even look at Remus ever again. I just feel like so fucking sick and I keep seeing Viv everywhere and I’m losing my mind and everything else about me is disappearing as well and I haven’t been able to like eat anything ‘cause I can’t keep anything down! And Oswald won’t stop texting me! I don’t wanna read it! I haven’t replied I swear! I wouldn’t like I wouldn’t do that to Remus! But I can’t block him! My fingers won’t move to do it! I- I whatever! I’m just a whiny bitch! Don’t look at me like that!”

You were looking at them in the exact same way you usually did. Their fingers twitched as they scrambled to open one of the small bags. They glared at you.

“Could you like...turn around. give a girl some fucking privacy”

You did. You didn’t turn back around until you heard them fall to the ground as soon as they’d tried to stand up. There was powder left around their nostril, probably xanax. They waved off your help and started walking back to where the car was.

Slowly their breathing seemed to ebb out into a relaxed pace, actually a bit too relaxed, too slow. Their eyelids were half closed and the sweat had started to fall away.

Remus opened the car door as soon as he saw them “Did a giant sewage monster climb up from the shadows and attack you” He exclaimed “An inner city coyote with rabies? One mean ass Santa?”

“I got lost” Remy mumbled back as they sat down in the driver’s seat. Their eyes darted around the car “You got any like water in here? Or like liquid? Liquid...wow...that’s a weird fucking word”

He stared at them like he’d just seen a squirrel bite through their brain “You told me you were going to get coffee dude! Shouldn’t you be the one with liquid”

“I did...Yeah uh sorry gal like the coffee shop was like tots closed ‘cause of like........moldy beans and like the food shop was also closed...mold....real dangerous girlie. Sorry”

They turned the key and started the car while randomly pressing down onto the pedal making the car bump forward a little.

“So where you wanna like go-”

“Do you think I’m stupid” Remus interrupted.

“Of course not! I love your brain! It’s a beautiful bloody brain! You know like a bunch of shit”

“Why’re you treating me like I got my brain in my ass then! Are you okay?”

Remy pressed their hands against the car wheel and gulped “Of course girl. I’m newly single, getting like tooots that post break up glow for real. I’m better than ever!”

“You know I’ve been to rehab and last time I checked my eyes hadn’t been pecked out by birds. Remy I am not blind-”

“It’s fine”

Remus looked at them while they continued to stare out through the front window “.....If you say so, I’ll believe you. ‘Cause you’re my friend and frankly I got no other options. I want to trust you”

“I’m all good thanks” They bit out.

“.....Okay...Okay..if you say so”

They moved the wheel and the car started to move in jumpy bursts of engine power. It swayer back and forth over the road as Remy drove. They’d played mario kart a few times and Virgil had let them try out his car every now and then, even if that was just across a parking lot.

They looked over to their friend who was still sitting with his arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed together. They made a sudden swerve into another street and made the car go faster. Remus yelped a bit and tensed, still grimacing.

Remy had thought he'd like the adventure of driving dangerously. They parsed their lips to say so but the words died on their tongue.

"RED LIGHT!" Remus yelled, eyes suddenly wide and every single muscle in his body tensed.

The car was already halfway over the line when Remy kicked their foot down onto the brake making the car make such a sudden stop both of them got knocked forward.

A truck followed by several cars drove past them. Remy stared out at them as laughter started to trickled up from their throat. Their fingertips felt fuzzy as they turned to their friend and moved their hand to playfully bump his arm.

Remus flinched away from their touch. He was pressing himself against the car door to be as far away as he could. His legs were pressed together so hard his thighs shook from tension.

For a moment he looked at them with foggy eyes, as if he was seeing someone else. before he blinked it away and simply looked away from them again.

The light turned green. Remy drove down the street, their eyes started to go blurry so they squinted to see. Randomly going down off shot roads until they saw a truck stop, one of those with a little shop connected to it. In this case a 7/11.

Remy parked the car crookedly across two parking spaces. They wordlessly got out of the car. Remus didn’t even have time to ask where they were going. He sat up in his seat and got worried they weren’t going to come back.

It took a few minutes before Remy suddenly opened the car door again and leaned into the car, their hand against the seat and their other hand holding out a glass bottle to Remus.

“I’m sorry” Remy said “My fav snotball I’ve been like tots a jerk all day. Wanna smash some shit? Like this bottle? It’s good to get anger out right?- You don’t gotta forgive me or nothing and you get to feel what you feel. I just don’t wanna just like leave while we’re both feeling like shit”

“I’m not angry” Remus muttered back.

“I won’t be mad if you’re angry. Like girlie I- Y’know Viv would like accuse me of calling him like abusive and stuff if I ever seemed even annoyed. I get it. Anger isn’t bad I think. Probably. Your anger couldn’t be bad”

Remus glanced at them. He did an extra pout which made Remy chuckle before he let up into a small smile as he took the bottle.

“I found some more like behind the store” Remy said. Remus followed closely behind them. Their walk was stumbling and their upper body was swaying, as if they were constantly tripping over something only they could see.

The back of the store was brick wall overgrown with moss with some trashcans, pallets and broken glass. Remy made little “Whoop-Whoop” noises to hype him up.

Remus puffed up his chest and tapped his feet into the ground while moving his arms like he was about to throw a basketball. When he heard his friend, his crush, laugh his chest felt warm.

The bottle shattered against the bricks as both of them yelled in excitement. They high fived each other and Remy quickly handed him another bottle. He didn’t even hesitate about throwing it. His bottle and the bottle Remy threw hit the wall at almost the exact same time.

The glass pieces scattered down onto the concrete. Remus stomped over and jumped onto them to make them shatter even more. The crunchy sounds made him happy stim. 

He waved his hand to make Remy come over but they flinched. Flinched violently. They covered their head with their hands and made themselfs look smaller. Remus realized he was still holding a bottle, for a second it must have looked like he was throwing it.

“I’m okay!” They quickly assured “Just reflexes!”

Remus still rushed to their side “You sure?”

“Suppppper duppper sure babe” Their expression soured and their muscles stayed tensed “Actually if anything I’m feeling kinda pissed” They took the bottle from Remus “That I’ve even had to be on edge oveR FUCKING BOTTLES BEING THROWN AT ME!”

The bottle shattered against the wall. The sound of the glass mixed with Remy’s laughter.

“Augh girrrl! That felt great! You should try it”

They handed Remus a bottle and patiently waited for him to throw it. Maybe hear him rattle out some gorey idea about how his abuser’s brain would look shattered.

Instead he stared at the bottle loosely laying in his hand. Until he started to tremble and his eyes got that blurry look again. Remy did not touch him but they did lay their finger against the bottle to show they could take it.

“Hey. Hey. don’t force yourself. You don’t have to” Remy reminded.

He dropped the bottle and it shattered between their shoes.

“Anger’s not gonna be like always good for healing” They continued “I getcha I getcha. I’m just- It’s easy to get angry at a man who abused his tiny kid y’know! I got it easy! I mean I couldn’t.....I can barely even dislike Viv...Or think he’s wrong. I getcha”

“anger is so overwhelming” Remus mumbled out “It fills my entire body”

“Do you still like destroying shit?”

He nodded.

“Wanna keep doing that?”

He nodded.

“Alrighty girlie. I promise I’m gonna. I know today with the car. I’m gonna try to like not assume that you’re like able to...to like disagree. I’m gonna- I am Really gonna try to ask you beforehand like this. That sound good?”

He nodded.

“Hug?” He fluttered his eyelids a little while opening his arms.

“Course!!”

Remy melted into his embrace. The curls running down his neck tickled their nose. For that short time his smell of spoiled milk and rat piss smelled the same as heaven.

Remus smiled before noticing how they felt a bit heavier than usual. He leant back from the hug and Remy instantly fell over. He managed to hold onto them enough so they were half upright. Their legs seemed to have given out and he only now noticed just how much paler they looked.

“Oh wow” They chuckled out “I hadn’t like noticed how tired I was till I got to like calm down”

“You haven’t eaten. I haven’t eaten. Bitch we’re tearing down the 7/11 right now”

“Lead the way pissboy!”

Remus kept his arm around them as they walked into the 7/11. It was a bit awkward since the cashier stared at them with incredibly judgement as they had heard every single bottle. He sat Remy down on one of the chair’s next to the newspapers stacks and pinboard.

Right before walking away he whispered into their ear “...I do want to be able to get angry at him some day...I wanna be angry together with you....I think I’d like that...”

He went to look for coffee and breakfast, maybe just a bit of candy teeth. Remy leant their head in their hands and sighed. Everything was fuzzy and they felt like they were going to puke just at the smell of food. Though they had the urge to puke most of all so that the stomach acid would hurt their throat. Their thoughts went on about how they were hurting Remus, and everyone else for that matter, and that he would be better off without them. What if they made him relapse!!! What if they were abusive after all!! What if! What if! What if!

Remy tried to push the thoughts out and stared at the pinboard to distract themself. There was a flyer on the pinboard for the spring opening of the local art-park and another for a karaoke night at the gay bar. It was like a tiny and very tired little lamp lit up above Remy’s head.

“...Do you think Remus would still wanna hang out with me?” They looked around for you and relaxed a little when you appeared next to them “I dunno...maybe I could ask Janus along as well? I don’t know if they would like the art stuff or the like bar more? I really...I really don’t wanna mess this up with him....I like him....I really really like him” They squeezed their eyes shut “Ugh my head hurts”

#thanks for the ask! #now we will never see another car again!!! #sanders sides #mini fic #glow eyes

[cornerihaunt]

🐳

Happy almost Hump day all!! Here's a (humpback) whale to celebrate! Animal anon has to go away for the next two weeks because she has a BIG multiple day test in exactly 2 weeks that she is super super nervous for! So she will be logging off starting tomorrow until then! Since I have been very nervous, I want to know what is one thing that helps you when your nervous or anxious about a big event? It's been such an anxious year, I think we could all benefit by sharing our coping mechanisms with each other! I'll start, one thing I've been doing to help me be less nervous is get 8 hours of sleep. Because I am useless with no sleep. So tell me, what's a coping mechanism that you have that helps you? And don't forget to tag animal anon so I can see all your wonderful and inspiring replies! 💕💕💕💕💕

Also, I'm trying a new thing! If you know of someone whose never received an animal anon, who would love one, tag them and I'll head over their way! There are so many amazing people in this fandom and I want go reach as a many as possible!

oh my god hiiii animal anon!! i love seeing people on my dashboard receive your anons and receiving one now has made so happy!! thank you 🤍🤍🤍

good luck on your exam!!!🍀🍀 you’ll crush it!! as a university student i know quite well anxiety before exams 🥴 I usually cope with that by, weirdly enough, talking about it (usually with my dad, since he’s the voice of reason and i’m usually anxious over tiny things that my brain just inflates) or i do breathing exercises when it gets bad. I had a big exam a couple of weeks ago and i didn’t cope quite well (i had a crying fit… not pretty) but i practiced self care after so it’s all good now 🤍

I’m just gonna tag some mutuals (beloveds hiii) so you can send these to more people 💖

@paradisetemporarilymisplaced @adamraisedacain

@wherepoetsdie @thatusedtobeours @hellerswift

@cherrytrees-and-bumblebees @swiftiephobe

#animal anon #thank you again animal anon😭😭😭🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 #mutuals if you don’t wanna be on this list just shoot me an ask and i’ll take you off no problem 🤍 #i answered this when i had just awoken so like… sorry if it doesn’t make sense #anon #ask