#still stuck in drawing them in profile | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwishf1wasreal · 1 month

Text

F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✷ Lewis Hamilton ✷

smut ✷ 18+ readers only

I. Flirt. He’s a shy sort of suave. He wants to come off cool and laid back. Thank God he never has to worry if he’s dressed well. Lewis is all about eye contact, making sure to look over the frame of whatever sunglasses he’s wearing so he can hold your gaze. It’ll be hard for him to look away; maybe he’ll keep your eyes for as long as he can by looking back or walking backward. He’ll flash his million-dollar smile at you; make sure you know he’s noticed you too. If there are cameras around, he’s pretty much going to stand 40 feet away from you, but if it’s amongst the trusted inner circle or just the two of you, he is stuck to you like glue. When you first meet, he’s flirty in a relaxed sense; it won’t come across as him being particularly interested, just friendly. He takes his time sussing you out and getting a feel for you. But once he’s ready to make his intentions known, he’s laying on the charm. Making you laugh, taking any excuse to brush against you. II. Propositioning. Warm hands caressing down your back, spending a generous amount of time on your ass before smoothing down your calves. He’ll peck kisses anywhere he can reach, his endless brown eyes meeting yours as his lips roam your body. Lewis wants to seduce and be seduced. He likes kissing–[loves] kissing. Has a hard time having sex [without] kissing. He wants your tongue hot and heavy in his mouth. Lewis likes to tease too. If the mood strikes and you start to put the moves on him, he'll play dumb. Straight up pretends not to notice, wait and see how far you’ll go before you push him down onto the sofa and straddle him.

III. Libido. It’s relatively high, but he’s also creeping up to his forties. Don’t get me wrong, he has no trouble getting (or maintaining) an erection, but it takes him a bit longer to get him up and ready…especially if it’s a night after drinking. So, he doesn’t mind a bit of soft play, whether it's your mouth or the soft glide of your hand. He’s not too picky. He feels so much closer to his partner during and after sex. Lewis feels like there’s no other connection in the world like it and would probably even be down to try sex magic if you were into that kind of thing.

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty. Tame: Expensive clothes. When you hold him close to whisper in his ear. Laughing with your head thrown back. A nice fitting pair of trousers. Pretty, fast cars. Private beaches and cabanas. Outdoor showers. Spoiling you. Facetime calls to show him what you’re wearing. Getting along with his mum and step-mum. Having inside jokes with his brother. Fitting right into a game of footy with his nieces and nephews. Musicality in any way, shape, or form. Shy silliness that he gets to draw out of you. Diamonds on bare skin. Nasty: When he fucks you so good you can’t even get out a moan, and it looks like you’re having a sexy exorcism. Pulling your panties to the side instead of just pulling them off. Lowkey always wants to get caught; fucks you with the windows of your cabana wide open, or herds you into the single stall. Tender love and care to his balls. When you tell him that his dick is the best you’ve ever had. Receiving unsolicited your nudes. Mutual masturbation. Lingerie sets with lace bras and satin panties. The way your ass kinda makes a heart-shape in certain positions of doggy. Titties in his mouth. Topless beaches with wandering hands. V. Self-stimulation. Ideally, he would be able to Facetime you, and you could figure out a solution together. He'll use a video if the timezone doesn’t permit that, and he’s not desperate enough to wake you or disturb you at work. He can still appreciate porn, but if he wants to finish, he’d prefer to do it to you. VI. Foreplay. He almost pays too much attention to foreplay. It’s like he’s in some kind of competition with himself to see how wet he can make you before he finally slips inside. As he’s come into adulthood, he’s realised how powerful the act of cunnilingus is. He has his own version of getting drunk off your sex, usually in the form of semi-incoherent philosophical babbles of how we’re all connected and how beautiful your pussy is.

VII. Rhythm. He likes to keep it fresh but prefers deep, unhurried sex. Taking your time getting to know each other and savouring the feeling of the two of you together. He’s not afraid to moan or let his nastiest thoughts roll off his tongue. Most often he’ll be asking how it feels, for you to be louder. He likes egging you on. VIII. How He Likes It He’s a classic man. Doggy has a special place in his heart. He likes plenty of other positions, too, of course. But there’s just something about getting to watch your ass shake as he disappears inside you. You bent over, wet and moaning and rutting back against him. Rarely do you get to feel like you have the upper hand on him–he’s got lightning fast reflexes, strength and confidence that often make you feel like he’s not even real. Except in the bedroom and he has your front pressed into the bed and you start to work to throw your hips back to meet his thrusts. He nearly busts right then and there every time.

IX. Location, location, location. A hopeless romantic, ideally, he’d have rose petals all over the floor and candles littering the entire place. But that’s not always feasible, though he still tells you it’s what you deserve. And though he’d deny it, ducking his head to hide the burning on his cheeks but the hot tub seems to hold a special place in his heart. To the point where his buddies will point and giggle at it the second you’re aboard a yacht for the week or they notice it on the balcony through the curtains. Somehow, they always seem to be one on your holidays or hotel rooms. And you both do you best to use it to the best of your abilities. X. Kinky. He’s open minded and easy to approach. He likes experimenting when he feels safe and he feels safest with you. Depending on the mood, he can be gently encouraging, complimenting and worshipping you into bliss. Or, he can be a little more demanding, a little less lenient and a little more mean. He’s good at playing. He likes playing…as long as you seem like you are too. Any fantasy you feel like trying, he’s all ears. Rarely will he outright deny you–about most things–especially sex.

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys He’s not stupid, obviously you use toys whilst he’s away or busy. He doesn’t mind adding them in with the both of you either. It really only took one time for him to watch your eyes roll back in your head after just two minutes on the second to highest setting. Lately, his latest exploration in the bedroom has involved plugs. Nothing gets his heart pumping blood to his crotch quite like when you bend over and reveal you’ve decided to surprise him with one. Something about the shimmer of something in your ass while he sheeths himself deep inside you feels like ecstasy.

XII. Cum. He can go for a while. He’s old enough where he doesn't need to lay back and think of England. He would prefer to finish after you though with the ferocity of your sex life, it’s quite literally always a competition to get others to cum first. Ideally, he’d finish inside of you but obviously sometimes that’s not always fisable. Though, more than enough times have you two snuck off for a quickie and you’re left uncomfortably wet in your panties after.

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation. Lewis loves to go down on you. Likes hearing all your moans and whines and any other noise he can get you to make. When his focus is on you and getting you to cum, he turns into an assertive yet gentle figure. He has plans for you, he’d like for you to follow them. But he’s not above giving into your desperation or gently teasing you for how worked up you get. He can teeter more towards mean when he feels like it though rarely can keep it up. By the time you’ve finished, he’s melted back into his true self. Making sure you’re not too far gone or nothing got too out of hand. Despite it all though, he makes you feel like he’s hungry for you. Like just the site of you or your body could drive him wild enough to cloud all his thoughts.

XIV. Bonus.

“I wanna show you something,” Lewis tells you, head down with his eyes focused on his phone. You approach him in the living room but don't make it to him before the TV on the wall above him blinks on. It shows the generic home display before it goes black again. But it's only for a moment. Then, a grainy, night vision video starts to play.

It takes you a moment to realise what is. It’s not until you hear the video playback what sounds like Lewis’ laugh. On screen, now in clear view of the camera, you dragged Lewis to one of the outdoor sofas. Suddenly, you recognize everything in the video.

It from the boat trip you took a few weeks ago, traipsing around Greece with some friends before Lewis had to get back in race mode for the foreseeable future. It was late, all your friends had gone to bed and the crew had been tipped heavily to give you some privacy on deck.

You’re standing there watching yourself, watching your mouth meet his and moan in pleasure. In person, you don’t realise he’s even standing behind you until a gentle hand on your middle startles you out of your gaze.

“You remember that?” he asks softly, with a small nod towards the TV. You nod, letting out a distracted ‘mmhmm’ as you keep your eyes on the screen. His other hand meets your other side, palms softly caressing against the t-shirt you wore.

Back on the boat, you had already pulled Lewis free from the confines of his joggers. You were on the floor, on your knees. Even with the state of the art speakers Lewis had installed, you can’t make out what he’s saying to you on video. Just the soft rasp of his voice as he eggs you on.

“How did you get this?” you ask, your throat dry. You had taken him into your mouth on the boat, Lewis throwing his head back in pleasure on screen. It was nice to see him–actually see what he looked like while you gave him head. Up close was one thing, but watching the effect you had on him has your insides somersaulting.

“I told you I’d have them get rid of the footage.”

Neither of you were stupid. You both knew something as risky as this would require some damage control but Lewis promised you he’d take care of it.

“Yes, but how do you have it?” you gulp after a particularly loud moan vibrates off the screen.

Lewis doesn’t answer you, just laughs softly as he moves to start placing kisses on your neck. His hands move from your waist, roaming over your arms, then your shoulders. The roughness of his skin against the softness of your skin feels euphoric. But he stops the motion all too soon, one his hands clasping over each of your wrists. In front of you, your past self is already mounting your boyfriend, his hands eager to expose your breasts from the bikini you were wearing.

Loud, lewd sounds fill the room, echoing off the TV and bathing the both of you in a symphony of your own moans. You can feel Lewis’ breath against your neck, his hands still holding your wrists. You watch as his hand slipped over your core, pads of his fingers finding the perfect spot to send you over the edge. The sight of it makes you hotter, your skin starting to feel clammy and stomach somersaulting. Instinctively, you lean further back into Lewis, trying to instinctually rut yourself against him for some kind of relief.

But he’s not taking any of it. Just tightens his grip on your wrists and moves so you can’t roll your hips back against him.

The sounds on the TV get loud. You can hear the sound of your bodies meeting amongst the huffs and moans. It doesn’t matter how much you beg, how pathetically you mewl at Lewis to let you do something. He doesn’t care. Doesn’t even really let you look at him. At best you can get is the cocky smirk and devious gleam in his eyes before he’s gathering both your wrists in one hand and fixing your gaze ahead by your chin.

Your heart feels like its beating out of your chest. Your skin is sticking to your clothes, working up a sweat from how hot you feel underneath your clothes. Lewis makes you watch the whole thing like that. Forced to watch both orgasms he gave you. Forced to listen to the defeated sigh of satisfaction Lewis gives as you pulled yourself off of him. Forced to watch the glistening trail of yourselves that even the shitty security camera could pick up sliding down your leg.

You don’t even have to move to tell how wet you are once the TV finally turns off. Looking (and feeling) like you’re in a trance, Lewis chuckles proudly and presses a kiss to your hair.

“Now, go upstairs. Take all your clothes off. And wait for me.” He says, pressing one more kiss to your temple. He pulls away just a touch so he can look you in the eyes. “But do not touch yourself.” He taps his pointer finger to the tip of your nose and pats your ass as your single to get moving.

You do as you're told and head upstairs. Meanwhile, Lewis gets working on some drinks for the pair of you. He only gets as far as pulling his mock-Tequilas from the cabinet before he hears what at first sounds like your phone going off. But the buzzing he hears through the upstairs floor doesn’t stop. He freezes in place to listen. The buzzing keeps going, far longer than any ringtone would.

As soon as he realises what you’re doing, he drops what he’s doing and makes a break for the stairs. You can hear him calling your name through the bedroom door as he takes them to at a time to get to you.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1blr #lewis writers are very good pls dont hate me if its bad thank u

332 notes · View notes

film-bro-hotch · 9 months

Text

I Can See You - Hotch x Fem!Reader (one-shot)

I have had the idea for this one-shot ever since this song came out, and I wrote it in the middle of the night in an attempt to stay up and fight jetlag. This is going to be posted quite literally as I am in the airport about to move to a foreign country, so please enjoy.

Summary: You and Hotch start something outside of work that slowly starts to make its way into your on-the-clock time in more risky ways. Based on I Can See You by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: smut 18+, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, workplace relationships (?) but like in the most disruptive way possible

WC: 2k

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

The past three months had been filled with what everyone assumed to be the mundane, typical occurrences of amicable coworkers. Passing of paper, catching glances of him from across the room during a briefing, occasionally brushing polyester suit jackets against each other in the elevator. They were insignificant. Or at least that is what everyone thought.

It’s what you wanted them to see. And to be completely honest, it’s what you thought at first too. Why would you possibly think your older, recently divorced boss would be interested in you?

Yet here you were on the BAU jet after a case. He was sitting next to you, both working on some paperwork to officially close the case you had just been working on. You couldn't remember a specific detail from the case.

“Hey, Hotch, how many rounds of ammo did this guy have in his basement again?” “Enough I think he was doomsday prepping. Local PD was still getting an accurate number when we were leaving. I’ll call them when we land.” His tone was nonchalant enough, you really didn’t think much of it.

An hour later you were at your desk, getting ready to pack up when he came by, close enough that he was brushing your shoulder. He had picked up a pen from your desk and wrote the number down on your documents.

Odd moments like this kept happening. Sometimes he would lean a little closer than usual to show you one of the various drawings Jack made that he had stuck on the fridge. When you asked him for help on some grueling paperwork, your shoulders often touched. You would go to turn in administrative work and instead of putting it in the designated basket on his desk, you handed it directly to him, his fingers brushing yours. If you looked close enough, you could have sworn you saw his ears go a little red.

No one had said anything yet, which filled you partly with relief. Emily and JJ not saying anything was normal. They may be profilers, but they were both pretty good at keeping their noses out of their coworkers’ business. Who wasn’t so good at that was Penelope. If anyone was going to catch on to it, it would be her. And she would say something to you.

The fact that she hadn’t made you feel a little crazy. Were you really just reading too much into things? Were you projecting?

That was until one day after everyone was gone, he asked you to dinner.

You said yes, of course, though partly in the back of your head you wondered if it was more of a friendly coworker ‘well, we are both off and have nothing else to do’ dinner date than a date date. Any concerns of that were crushed when at the door of your apartment he kissed you. You had imagined his lips a few times already, thin and usually in some kind of disapproving frown. They were soft against yours, and you could feel the gentle scratch of his stubble on your chin.

When he pulled away, you expected maybe a form of regret, a look that read ‘what have I done?’ Instead, he just looked hungry for more.

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he says.

“But you did.” And so you gave him more. You both tumbled into your apartment. Your hands were in his hair, his hand was grabbing your ass as he continued to kiss you. You remember making it to the bed, and you remember that he spent the night at your place that night.

After that, work with Aaron looked much like it had the past few months. Business as usual with only stolen moments of tenderness, when your hands touched, his calloused fingers brushed yours for just a moment as he handed you a report and asked you to turn it in at 5:00 before you went home. You didn’t let the team catch the way your eyes linger on him for just a moment longer than what was socially appropriate for co-workers, how your gaze went from his eyes to his lips, usually pressed in a thin line. No one saw how in that cramped elevator, the last part of your morning commute, he would sometimes get closer, let one finger from the hand holding his briefcase curl with your pinkie.

That had been the two of you for the last three months. Professional. You just weren’t sure how much longer you could take professional.

It started out simple enough. You were in his office for a legitimate reason. JJ had been out sick and as the only other person with a communication background, her work fell on you, though you didn’t mind. You were there to hand him a stack of briefings for potential cases, and as he started to flip through them, you casually slipped a hand on top of his thigh, your fingers curling towards his inner thigh, your thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his pants. You could feel his pulse rise, his sharp intake of breath, see his eyes dart straight toward his door, the blinds that were open. There was a certain thrill in the danger of being caught. “What?” you asked coyly. “Scared of being found out?” “I’m not-it’s not that.” He was flustered. “We are at work. And your hands are cold.”

“Oh, I am very aware,” you said, abruptly pulling your hand from his and standing straight. “JJ should be back tomorrow, but if you have any other questions on these, just let me know,” you said, continuing on like you hadn’t just turned his face red with a touch or given him an awful boner in the middle of work.

Later that week, you had left your desk to give yourself one more cup of coffee considering you knew you would be working later than usual to finish up some details on a file. You usually go down the hall and sneak into another department’s kitchen to use a couple flavoring syrups. Passing a nook, you felt a hand grab you and pull you back, another hand settling on your lower back as Hotch pulled you into a kiss. Your surprised grunt was muffled by his lips, his teeth nearly busting your lips when they crashed into you.

“What the hell are you doing?” you breathed. “We are at work.”

“This is the only place on this floor besides a janitor's closet that isn’t on camera. And I didn’t exactly think cleaning chemicals gave the most romantic mood.” He said it completely seriously, like he had actually given this thought.

“Wait, how did you know I was even going to be here?”

“You always get a second cup when you are planning to stay past 5:00. And you never get coffee from the BAU’s kitchen. You go down the hall to data science because they have better variety. I just happened to take a break right before you went for a refill, and I happened to be in the one corner that cameras don’t reach.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reading from a textbook rather than the romantic declaration that he actually paid attention to your habits.

“It’s really hot when you pay attention, you know,” you said, reaching up for another kiss, but Hotch pulled back.

“Got to get back to work,” he said, the edge of his lips curled into a know, shit-eating grin. Bastard.

The tipping point came nearly a month later. The two of you had been at this little game ever since, trying to see who could make the other the most flustered, and things were getting progressively more risky. The closest call so far had been when you two thought you were the only ones left for the day, but Morgan had come back to grab his thermos he had left on his desk.

On this day, you were working at your desk when Aaron called you into his office. It wasn’t an occurrence, but something did start to feel off when he asked you to shut the door.

“Lock it for good measure,” he added, moving quite close to you to shut the blinds.

You hardly got his name out of your mouth before he kissed you, nearly banging your body against the door, which clearly would have alerted someone. You found your hand intuitively going around his neck, one cradling his cheek as he kissed you. “What the hell are you doing?” you finally were able to ask between breathless pants.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’ve hardly done anything.”

He pulls away then, pointing towards his desk. “We have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious.” You were already ahead of him, pulling him towards his desk, your hands already reaching for his belt. He was eager to help you, unclasping the buckle in one fell swoop. Even through the lining of his pants you could see his bungle. You wondered how long he had been thinking about doing this all day, thinking of you.

He slid his pants off part of the way, your fingers going to grip him, only his boxer keeping your flesh from touching. He had to be sensitive. Even just the friction from your hand and the fabric made him hum in approval. “If we are going to do this, you are going to need to keep quiet,” you said. Your hands moved from his crotch to his neck, unlacing his tie with ease. Haphazardly bundling it up, you shoved the mess of fabric into his mouth to shut him up.

“Wait,” you heard him say, having removed the makeshift gag. He shook his arms out of his suit jacket, taking the most surely expensive coast and folding it, placing it on the ground. It took you a moment to realize what he was getting out, but you started to understand when he happily put the gag back in his mouth. Kindly, he had made his jacket into a cushion for your knees so you could be comfortable while sucking him off and making him scream. And you planned to do just that.

Your fingers gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his dick. Spitting in your hand, you began to run your hand along the length of him, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly. From the corner of your eye, you could see the way he gripped the edge of his desk, practically begging you to go a little faster, use a little more pressure. You kept up the facade for a bit, listening to his near desperate hums before placing your lips on the tip, running your tongue along it and hearing his muffled groan in response.

You started to move your hand a little faster, your tongue picking up the place along with it. You loved to see the way his knuckles went white, the way he was gripping the desk for dear life.

“Please,” you heard his muffled whimper.

“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” you asked from your position below him.

Quickly, he ripped out his gag, one hand still gripping the desk as he said, “For the love of god, please stop tormenting me.”

You were happy to oblige him, beginning to move your hand up and down as well as flicking your tongue along his tip, feeling the muscles in his thigh and his abdomen tense and clench before he finally released. At the last second, he muffled his cry with the tie, nearly sinking back into the desk as you wiped himself from your lips.

Standing and brushing your knees off, you motioned to the door. “Put your pants on so I can get the hell out of here and hope no one noticed.”

He took a moment to compose himself, tucking his shirt back in and trying his best to straighten out his tie. He opened the blinds and unlocked the door, sending you on your way with a simple, “Please make sure those are on my desk before the end of the day.”

You were certain he was planning on returning the favor.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #song fic #based on a taylor swift song #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

766 notes · View notes

cochineal-leviat · 4 months

Text

Siffrin Doodles

Some sketches I made to practise drawing Siffrin. He's very expressive! I adore how multifaced he is and how well he fits in with the silent protagonist while still talking and making meaningful choices in the game. ISAT delves into why the protagonist is quiet and, oh boy, mood. I would also rather let other people talk and just listen to them.

And my favourites doods of the bunch in full HD, jk.

POV: You're Isabeua.

(small spoilers) I absolutely adore the scene when Isabeau confesses his feelings for Siffrin. But I also imagine that after everything Siffrin went through, they will look tired AF. Let this dude rest! Still, Isabeua is going to see Siff's beauty because that man is hopelessly head over heels for them. They could walk out covered in trash, with the most manic grin on his face after rummaging through the garbage for a specific bauble, and Isa would still think Siff is charming.

(Fair to him, Siffrin is pretty)

Idk, I like his smile. The profile art Siffrin differs from the art sprites for when they think or talk. It's a shame we don't get to see their confident smile more often.

Food. If you know, you know and if you do - that mid game scene made my heart melt. Now, when I think of it and the other special events, there is just a sour curdle in my stomach.

Just straight up the surprise portrait. Of all my favourites (the smug smirks and the absolute happiness sprites) - The surprise portrait stuck with me the most. It's very versatile!

Swagless, absolutely incontestably - swagless. No idea if people still use swag, but swagless is the only word I can think of fitting this sketch with drunk Siff. Also Siffrin is not threatening anyone with a knife, he's just stimming. Siffrin's just a little guy! He can do no harm, /joking, he very much can do harm/.

POV: You threatened their family.

Run.

#isat #isat siffrin #siffrin #doodles #sketches #love using a little white star as a pupil for Siff's eye when he's being threatening/scared #it's good shit #in stars and time #this is a fun exercise #I need to doodle more often #my art #spoilers #but a very small one and I put the warning in bold

311 notes · View notes

poisonlove · 7 months

Text

i hate you!¹

I still hate you… but less.

4:35 PM

It was only 4:35 PM when the principal's verdict had hit us like a bolt from the blue. After the heated argument with the unbearable Jenna Ortega, we were forced to stay at school for an extra two hours. But the worst part? It wasn't just for one day; it was for an entire week.

"I want to die," I sighed. My elbow rested on the desk, my head propped up by my hand as I watched the clock tick away the time.

Our Science teacher shot us a stern look. "Absolute silence, please. I'll be back at the end of detention," he warned, making it clear that any infractions would lead to further penalties. "If you attempt to escape, the detention will be extended by a week, and if you argue, another hour... understood?"

"Mmm-hmm," I muttered with boredom, rolling my eyes in annoyance.

"Miss Ortega, did you understand?" the teacher turned his attention to the source of my frustration.

Jenna was sitting three desks away, her back against the wall, and from my vantage point, I could only see her profile. Ortega had her legs up on the table and earphones in her ears. It was as if she had erected an invisible wall between us, a clear sign of our tension.

"Ortega!" the teacher scolded with annoyance.

Jenna removed her earphones. "Yes, I understood," she replied through gritted teeth, clearly fed up.

"And remove your feet from the table," the teacher added with exasperation.

Jenna complied, and the teacher gave us one final glance before leaving the room.

I decided to pass the time by pulling out my notebook from my backpack, along with a pencil, and started drawing whatever came to mind. The punishment felt endless, and I needed something to distract myself.

As I drew, I scrutinized Jenna's profile more closely. She was clearly ignoring me, with earphones in her ears and a body posture that sent a clear message: she didn't want to talk at all.

My attention focused on her face, noting her upturned nose, heart-shaped lips, and slightly hollowed cheeks. But what struck me the most were her eyes. They were a deep brown, with long lashes framing them perfectly. They were physically flawless, and they captured the attention of anyone who gazed upon them.

My pencil began moving on the paper almost instinctively, creating lines and shadows that took shape. The graphite flowed on the page, delineating every detail of her brown eyes. Each individual eyelash seemed to come to life, capturing the imaginary light reflecting in her real eyes. It was as if I was trying to capture not only the physical appearance of her eyes but also the essence of what they might hide behind that distant expression.

I stuck out my tongue with a slight smile as I continued to draw, this time focusing on Jenna's eyebrows. She raised an eyebrow with confusion and shot me a glare, clearly feeling my gaze on her.

I increased the pressure on the pencil, creating heavy and precise lines as I outlined the curves of Jenna's eyebrows.

"What a pain," Jenna muttered and then stretched, yawning slightly.

In that motion, she lifted her hoodie slightly, revealing her perfectly flat stomach. I felt a bit embarrassed and quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks flushed, continuing to draw while only looking at my notebook. I had gotten the sketch I wanted, and now I wanted to fully concentrate on my work, trying to ignore the distractions around me. The tension between us was still palpable, but at least my drawing was taking shape as I desired.

This bitch has some nice facial features, despite being so insufferable I thought with a wry smile.

Her beauty was undeniable, even though her attitude was anything but amiable. It was a contradictory thought, but at least it helped me focus on my work and set aside the tensions.

"I must say I was wrong; you don't draw that badly," a voice murmured beside me.

"What do you want, Ortega?" I asked with a sigh, not in the mood for an argument.

Jenna had placed her hands on my desk, her head close to mine as she closely examined the contents of my notebook. Her breath was very close to my ear, her hair gracefully falling over her shoulders.

"Nothing from you, just the least I can do is see how you draw, considering that my eyes are on that notebook," she confessed in a bored tone.

The desire to draw faded.

Jenna, with a quick movement, sat in the desk next to mine. "Not drawing anymore?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"No, I feel a terrible presence by my side... very annoying, I must say," I muttered with faux irony.

Jenna burst into laughter.

"I don't understand why you've become so unbearable, you know?" I asked sincerely. "I remember that we were very close friends as children," I mumbled distractedly, smiling at the memory.

Flashback:

I was a little child using colored pencils, trying my best to color a car printed on a piece of paper.

"Wow, you're really amazing!" a voice came from my right, and I smiled when I saw a girl looking at my drawing.

That girl was completely covered in marker stains and seemed quite clumsy. "Can you teach me?" she asked with bright eyes. "Of course," I muttered absentmindedly, and the girl sat down next to me.

"I'm Jenna," the girl said with a big smile. "Y/N," I returned the smile. "I'm sure you and I will become great friends," she confessed, clumsily coloring the sheet.

"The best!" she added quickly, sticking out her tongue and running it over her lower lip.

"We're friends because I'm helping you draw?" I asked, intrigued and a bit confused.

She tilted her head to the side, looking at me curiously. "Isn't that what friends do?" she innocently asked.

End of the flashback.

The reminiscence of those happy moments with Jenna filled me with warmth, but at the same time, it made me feel the sadness of time passed and friendships lost. It was a missing puzzle piece that I had forgotten, and now I held it in my hands, hoping it could help resolve the current situation between us.

Jenna's fingers snapped in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Everything okay, weirdo?" she asked with a small smile.

"Yeah, pain in the neck," I muttered absentmindedly.

"Ugh... what can I say? Those were good times," she smiled, eliciting a faint smile from me.

"Do you remember the times we used to play Romeo and Juliet?" Jenna asked with a smile on her lips.

I chuckled, nodding. "How could I forget? You dressed me up as a prince and said we had to get married," I confessed, making Jenna blush.

"And that time I broke my arm falling from the tree?" she asked, amused.

"I'm sorry about that, it's my fault the ball ended up there," I admitted, remembering the moment when Jenna had tried to catch the ball thrown too high, ending up falling and breaking her arm.

"We were friends... for how long? 7 years?" I asked uncertainly.

"7 years and 4 months," Jenna murmured, surprising me.

"Can you explain why you've become like this?" I asked curiously.

Her smile faded. She crossed her arms around herself, almost embarrassed. "Do you really not remember?" she asked in a whisper.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"No," I honestly replied.

"And if I tell you... 'monkey arms'?" she asked, making a grimace.

I widened my eyes in realization.

I couldn't believe it... Jenna had become so unbearable because of a comment I made when we were 12 years old. We were in the gym, ready for our physical education class.

"Hey, Jen," I called my best friend.

Jenna turned toward my direction, looking at me with a smile on her face and bright eyes.

"Tell me," she asked, adjusting her short-sleeved shirt.

"Have you heard the new song 'Dance Monkey'?" I asked, barely holding back my laughter.

"Yes?" she asked unsurely.

"With those arms, it's definitely your song," I exclaimed, making the girls in the locker room burst into laughter.

I was clearly joking. But Jenna looked at me with flushed cheeks and teary eyes, grabbed her hoodie, and rushed out of the locker room. That moment of light teasing had a much deeper impact than I could have ever imagined.

"Oh, crap," I looked at Jenna with wide eyes, incredulous.

"You made my life impossible because of a comment from when we were kids?" I asked, unable to believe it.

Jenna shrugged without thinking, looking at me with narrowed eyes. "Because of you, I'm still afraid to wear short sleeves," she confessed.

I analyzed her outfit again: an oversized hoodie that completely covered her arms.

"Damn... Jen, I was just joking! I didn't mean to cause all this drama," I muttered absentmindedly, taking her hand to uncover her arm.

"What are you doing?" she asked in panic.

"Showing that you look amazing regardless," I muttered absentmindedly, trying to address her insecurities.

Jenna blushed, and she seemed almost on the verge of a panic attack. "See?" I asked with a nervous smile.

I ran my fingers along her arm, feeling like a complete idiot for making this girl feel bad for years. I had never thought that such a joke could ruin a friendship.

Jenna broke free from my grasp and got up from the desk, seeing that the science teacher had returned to the classroom, ending our punishment.

"See you tomorrow, loser," Jenna muttered, a small smile on her lips.

In the end, now I knew why Jenna detested me so much. In the end, the responsible, clueless idiot was just me.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #miércoles addams #wednesday x you #bully #hate this #enemy to lovers

297 notes · View notes

lilacmingi · 5 months

Text

THE GOAT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem reader, Mingi x fem reader

Word count: 4,790

Note: I’m doing something new with this little series. Each part will have two imagines based on the duos from the Bouncy music video, so you guys are getting TWO imagines in one :D

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆 | 홍중

Hongjoong released a long sigh, staring through the telescope he held between his glove-clad hands.

"Tired?" You questioned.

He scoffed. "No."

"Liar."

"I'm used to staying up late. You should know this by now."

"Yeah, yeah." You waved a dismissive hand, repositioning yourself on the raised platform Hongjoong sat upon, fixing your gaze on the city below. "How many nights are we going to spend keeping watch out here like this?"

"Until we get the signal."

"The signal." You muttered through a sigh of exasperation. "And when will we be getting that?"

"Don't know." Hongjoong pushed the telescope closed and set it aside.

You leaned back, resting on your palms while gazing out at the nighttime cityscape lit up with vibrant neon hues from the different signs displayed on buildings. The streets were empty, completely vacant and void of any civilians. This place you called your temporary home was practically a ghost town. Despite the people here being away from the government's control, they all seemed to prefer to move quietly throughout to city so as not to draw any attention to themselves.

The sound of a motorcycle revving loudly echoed somewhere in the distance.

Well, except some people.

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "That must be Seonghwa."

"Must be. What is he doing anyway?"

"Riding around with his new motorcycle gang I suppose."

"That doesn't seem like something that pertains to the plan."

"No, but who says we can't have a little fun while we wait to put the plan in motion? He grinned.

"Yeah. You have a point."

"Plus, we're just regular civilians going about our daily lives. Isn't that right?"

"Right."

Hongjoong adjusted the hat on his head, pushing it back enough to where he could look up at the stars. His cowboy attire was a bit ridiculous, but it was his disguise and unfortunately yours as well. All the boys were staying in separate hideouts around the city. You, Hongjoong, and Mingi were located in a part of the city that had a more western feel to it and in order to blend in, you had to dress the part. Not only that, but the boys were wanted for their crimes against the government and they needed to keep a low profile, lest they get captured by the android guardians.

"Mingi's face is plastered all over the city." You commented, recalling the numerous sketches of him you had seen stuck to nearly every building.

"I know."

"You don't think our cover is gonna get blown?"

"No. There have been plenty of times we've almost been caught in the past, but we always make it out."

He had a point. All of them were uncannily lucky when it came to escaping the clutches of the android guardians. Yes, Yeosang got captured once, but he was brought back completely unscathed with his emotions still intact. That was a miracle in and of itself. There wasn't a day that went by where the boys weren't thankful for all eight of them being safe.

"At this point, what are we even watching for? Nothing has happened in Prestige Academy for months."

"We're not watching for anything. We're just keeping an eye on them."

You hummed and nodded, your fingers mindlessly fiddling with the fringe on your vest.

"Do you ever miss home?" You questioned, eyes locked on the dreary slate gray city of Strictland far in the distance—a reminder of how vastly dissimilar this world was from the one you grew up in.

Hongjoong pursed his lips in thought.

"Not really. Our lives weren't exactly perfect and it seemed like none of us had a purpose. The group broke apart and everyone was dealing with their own issues. Here, we have a purpose and whatever problems we had back home are insignificant now, especially compared to the threat we're facing here." There was a brief pause before he added, "What about you?"

"Do I miss home?" You questioned.

He nodded.

"No, but sometimes yes. Back in our world, I felt stuck I guess. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life and I felt like I was being held back. If you can believe it, I feel more free here, even with all the rules the government is trying to enforce."

Hongjoong chuckled softly. "I get what you mean."

"When we first started this journey together, I was terrified. I didn't think I had it in me to make such daring moves, but now I want to do thrilling things like infiltrating an academy, but I do sometimes miss the normality of my old life. I miss hanging out with you guys in that old tin building."

"I do too." Hongjoong smiled fondly, turning to you. "But it's like I said earlier, who says we can't have a little fun? This dystopian world may be bleak, but we can still take it easy and have moments of normalcy."

The light from the large neon sign reading The Goat shone along his face, highlighting his side profile as he looked at you. It was a heavenly sight and one that had your heart thumping wildly with adoration.

You felt strongly about Hongjoong and had been quietly swooning over him for a long time now. Unfortunately, with all of the chaos constantly going on around you, there was no possibility of confessing. However, in this moment of vulnerability, you found yourself uttering something you normally wouldn't say.

"I'm glad I'm here with you."

Hongjoong's head lifted at your words. Now that he was looking at you, his eyes studying your face, you got nervous.

"Sorry." You murmured an apology, fiddling with the fringe of your vest again. "It's just that... well, you mean a lot to me and if we hadn't gone on this rollercoaster of a journey together and I stayed at our old home I'd probably be miserable. What I'm trying to say is that I'm thankful that we stuck together."

His gaze softened, a gentle smile gracing his pretty lips.

"I feel the same way."

A beat passed and Hongjoong scooted closer, it was unnoticed by you, as you'd turned your gaze back to the neon dotted cityscape ahead, staring out at the nighttime scene. His lips pressed together in momentary contemplation while his fingers fidgeted with the chains attached to his black leather gloves.

Hongjoong was a smart man, but your words caused him some confusion. Was that a confession? A subtle way to declare your feelings without saying it outright? Maybe you were just showing him appreciation for your companionship—or maybe you were hinting that you wanted something more. He hoped it was the latter.

There was only one way to find out.

He had taken on the android guardians multiple times, broke into a museum to steal the Cromer, snuck around Strictland to set up speakers, and now he was planning to infiltrate Prestige Academy to save as many students as possible, which would be one of their biggest and riskiest plans ever. Confessing is nothing compared to that. It should be a piece of cake. Keyword should.

Swallowing his pride and pushing away his nerves, he leaned over towards you, the movement grabbing your attention. Seeing how close he was made you tense up, but you didn't make any efforts to move away. Truthfully, you didn't want to.

His eyes were a little wider than usual, hesitancy swimming in his brown irises. The reason for that reluctance, you didn't know.

"Hongjoong?" Your voice came out much quieter than you intended. "What's happening?"

"I'm about to kiss you."

There was a brief pause of silence as your brain processed what he had just said. The only word that managed to come out of your mouth in response was,

"Okay."

You hardly had time to internally cringe at your lame response as Hongjoong's lips made contact with yours, promptly silencing your thoughts. Their softness alone had your mind turning to mush, your eyelids sliding closed as you practically melted into him. His gloved hand moved to cradle the side of your face while your hands relocated from your lap to the nape of his neck to keep him held close, hoping that this moment would last long enough for you to believe it wasn't a dream. His kisses were so delicate and slow. It felt like he was pouring all of his emotions into it, conveying just how much you meant to him with each gentle press of his lips.

Only a few moments passed before Hongjoong's kisses became a little more heated as he picked up the pace, moving his lips with more urgency. He even nipped at your bottom lip a couple times, earning a quiet squeak of surprise from you. You were thankful to be sitting down or else your knees would have given out on the spot. He chuckled lowly against your lips, amused by your reaction. His sultry laugh made your heart thump rapidly, your hands tightening into fists.

It wasn't long before your hands moved to his hat, pulling it off his head and tossing it to the side somewhere so you could card your fingers through his blue locks, grabbing handfuls of it. He let out a low hum that vibrated against your lips and sent a rush of butterflies to your stomach. After a particularly dizzying kiss, you sighed out his name, your mind far too clouded to realize what you had said. Hongjoong couldn't ignore the way that lit a fire in him. He liked how you sounded and he wanted to hear it again.

At this point, keeping watch was at the back of Hongjoong's mind. All he could think about was you and how glorious it felt to be kissing you like this and what it would take for you to say his name again.

"Say my name." He sighed out between heated kisses. "Please."

You did as he asked, repeating his name in a breathless whisper, egging him on.

His hand that cupped your cheek slid around to the back of your neck, his thumb gently rubbing your nape. You suppressed a shiver as he took your bottom lip between his, encasing it in warmth.

The both of you parted ways, Hongjoong's eyes looking hazy while his tongue darted out to wet his lips that were slightly swollen from your intense make out session. It seemed impossible, but he looked even more stunning than usual.

"What was that for?" You questioned breathlessly.

"I didn't know how else to convey my feelings."

"So, instead of just confessing, you did something riskier by kissing me?" You asked amusedly.

"What can I say? I'm a man who likes to take risks." The statement was confident, but judging by the pink tinting the tips of his ears, the thought of straight up confessing hadn't crossed his mind.

"Now what?"

"Well..." Hongjoong trailed off, his hand finding yours. "We can be together and still take down Prestige."

You gave a lighthearted chuckle. "Alright then. If you think you can handle balancing a relationship and overthrowing the government."

"Please." He scoffed playfully. "I'm the captain. I can handle anything."

Hongjoong's eyes shifted slightly, moving away from your face and focusing on something in the distance.

"Someone's coming." He announced, his gaze fixed on a figure riding a delivery scooter.

You chuckled softly even though you were bummed out that the moment had ended.

Duty calls.

He scrambled for his telescope, opening it up and peering through the glass.

"We didn't order any food." You mused.

"I know."

He zeroed in on a logo stuck to the delivery scooter that read Blue Bird Delivery. A silent sigh of relief was released. As the person approached, Hongjoong began messing with the pulley system attached to the roof of the building, lowering a beat up metal bucket to the ground below.

The moped came to a stop and the rider pulled out a plastic bag, placing it in the bucket before Hongjoong raised it.

"Is that Yeosang?"

"I think so."

The driver, who you assumed to be Yeosang got back onto the scooter and took off towards his next destination.

Hongjoong removed the plastic bag, carelessly tossing it aside as he opened the styrofoam takeout container. Inside was a single Cheongyang chili pepper.

Your brows furrowed in perplexmxent, wondering why Yeosang would bring you something like that. Hongjoong removed the paper from the container and examined it briefly. Glancing around, he broke open the green chili pepper, pulling out a rolled up note that had been put inside.

"What it is?" You inquired, watching as he unraveled it.

"It's time."

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈 | 민기

The atmosphere in the dim Chili Peppers bar was filled with the sound of low murmuring from the few patrons it housed, the occasional sound of clinking glasses or pool being played accompanied the low conversations. You pressed the corners of the wrinkled paper to the wall, hanging a new wanted poster, this one bigger than the ones that already hung there. Most of them depicted the same man while others showed images of a few other fugitives who were believed to run in the same group. The only thing that was different from the rest was that any poster that showed this particular man said DEAD OR ALIVE in large letters. You weren't exactly sure as to why this man was wanted, but you heard whispers throughout the city that he looted local businesses in the area and sometimes traveled with a group of other fugitives. Some even say he runs with the masked men in fedoras, but you're not sure—this town talks a lot.

The wooden doors of the saloon squeaked as they were pushed open by a strong force. A tall figure stepped into the establishment, all of the attention drawn to him, the chatter in the bar coming to an abrupt stop. Every patron in the saloon had their heads directed towards the stranger, their eyes following him across the room. He wore a large hat that blocked his face, keeping his head low as he approached the bar you stood behind. You took note of the large shotgun strapped to his back, not thinking too much of it, as quite a few people around here carried weapons with them.

"How can I help you?" You asked, leaning on the wooden bar top.

"Why else do you think I came to this bar?" The man responded, his voice low and incredibly deep.

"Not everybody comes into this bar to drink, you know."

"Soju." He responded, taking a seat on one of the stools.

Reaching underneath the bar, you grabbed a shot glass and a cold bottle of soju from the mini fridge. Cracking open the alcohol, you poured the clear liquid into a shot glass, sliding it over to the man. His gloved hand reached out and lifted the shot to his lips, downing it just as quickly as you had poured it. He slammed the glass down onto the counter with his head hanging low. It was only when he raised his head that you got a clear look at his face.

First, you noticed his strikingly handsome features, then instant recognition. This was the man from the wanted poster.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your voice was stuck in your throat as he stood up, pulling his long, leather coat back to flash the gun sitting in a holster on his hip.

"When I turn around, duck under the bar." He instructed lowly.

What? Is what you wanted to say, but you didn't have time as he spun around, pulling the gun out.

You dropped to the floor and covered your head as the sound of gunshots rang out above you, some stray bullets hitting the bottles of alcohol displayed behind the counter, the shattered glass falling onto you, liquor splashing onto the wooden boards of the floor.

You didn't even have time to consider wether you trusted this stranger or not, yet you did exactly as he said without a second thought. Then again, it was the only thing you knew to do when you saw him draw his weapon.

A thump sounded from above you, the noise drawing your attention. The man now stood on the bar holding the shotgun that was previously strapped to his back, firing the weapon mercilessly. Based on the heavy thuds you heard after every shot, he was good.

"Alright. It's safe. You can come out now."

Deciding to peek out from your hiding spot, you slowly stood up, peering over the bar top. Bodies littered the floor, tables were overturned, and shell casings were scattered everywhere. Your eyes were blown wide in surprise as you took in the scene before you. The stranger hopped down off the bar, landing behind the counter with you. You unconsciously took a step back, still wary of the man.

"Who are you?" You asked in a shaky voice, rattled by the experience you just had.

"Mingi."

When you didn't respond, he held his hands up in a placating manner to show he wasn't a threat.

"I won't hurt you. I'm a good guy."

Still skeptical, you studied him for a moment, your eyes scanning his sharp features for any signs of dishonesty.

"I saved you." He added.

"Saved me?"

"Yes. Everyone in this bar was working for the government."

Your expression shifted upon hearing that.

"Strictland is getting tougher on enforcing their rules and regulations. They were going to bring you in and have your emotions taken away."

"What?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, shaking your head in denial.

"That's not possible. This is the outskirts of the city. The government has no control here."

"They're trying to."

Mingi could see your breathing start to quicken, a look of fear crossing your features.

"What do I do?"

"You come with me."

"But I don't know you."

"Have you ever heard of The Black Pirates?"

"No."

"They're a group of people who are rebelling against the government and trying to undo what Strictland has tried to enforce. Me and my friends work with them."

So that's why his picture is all over the city. Those other wanted posters are probably the friends he mentioned.

"Trust me, it's best if you listen and come with me." He added.

After taking a few seconds to think it over, you caved and agreed to go with Mingi. It seemed to be your best and only option.

"Smart girl." He commented. "Follow me."

Taking a final glance at the bar that was in complete disarray, you turned your back and followed Mingi out of the establishment. There was something sad about walking out of that dingy bar. It felt like you were leaving a part of you behind. Chili Peppers was a place you had spent a year working at and met many different people. You were well-acquainted with the regulars and enjoyed catching up with them when they came in. It was a fun job and one that had marked a new start of your life, so walking away from it broke your heart.

"Can I go back?" You asked.

"Probably not. You'll need to lay low."

"Right."

Unable to look at the bar any longer, you dropped your head and moved forward, rounding the corner of the building. It was only when Mingi came to a stop that you lifted your head.

He stood before the side of the Chili Peppers bar, staring at the multiple wanted posters depicting a sketch of his face that were plastered along the siding. Painted in harsh and aggressive black streaks across the posters was a giant Z. Mingi rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed huff.

"So freaking persistent." He muttered under his breath.

"What's that?" You inquired.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek in agitation. "He's the one in control of everything going on in Strictland."

You pressed your lips together as a bitter taste invaded your mouth. "I see."

Mingi turned to look at your expression, seeing the discomfort that flashed across your features as unwanted memories more than likely invaded your mind. It was clear to him that you felt ill will against Z.

"We all hate him." Mingi spoke up, hoping to ease your mind a bit. "That's why my friends are here. To get rid of all these rules and laws. This world is... wrong."

"I used to live in Strictland." You spoke up after a moment of silence. "I had to watch my friends turn into emotionless zombies. The android guardians tried to get me, but I fled. That's how I ended up here in the outskirts of the city. I felt safe... until now."

Mingi frowned upon hearing your story. Z and his twisted way of thinking has ruined so many lives. Your story was just a reminder of why he and his friends constantly put themselves in the line of danger and why they needed to continue doing so.

They wouldn't stop until this world was saved.

Your feet dragged through the dirt that lined the streets of the city, your eyes cast downward to stare at your shoes as they kicked up tiny puffs of dust.

"So, where are you taking me?"

"My hideout."

"And where is that?"

"Rooftop of The Goat."

"Rooftops aren't very secretive."

Mingi chuckled softly. "No, but it's the perfect spot to keep watch. My friends and I split off into groups of two so it would be harder for us to be tracked down and possibly caught if the android guardians decide to infiltrate this temporary safe haven. I've been staying in this part of town for a while."

"I heard about a group of people displaying acts of rebellion against Strictland's government and they've never been caught. It seems like they slip away in the nick of time every single time." You paused for a moment. "That was you and your friends, wasn't it?"

Mingi gave a nod.

A short walk through the dusty streets led you to the building with the giant neon sign reading: The Goat shining brightly at the rooftop, the word entrance accompanying the name of the building. It was then that you realized there were no doors.

"Come on." Mingi beckoned, climbing up a set of rickety metal stairs that lined the side of dilapidated building.

With each step, the stairs rattled softly and you hoped they would stay together long enough for you to reach the top.

"Hongjoong." Mingi announced, using his knuckles to knock lightly on a metal pipe as the both of you emerged on the rooftop.

"Oh, Mingi. Hi." A man with vibrant blue hair and cowboy attire greeted while peering through a telescope.

"Any news?"

"Not at all." The man who you assumed was Hongjoong lowered the telescope and pushed it together into its compact form before setting it aside. When he finally turned to look at Mingi, his eyes landed on you.

"Who's this?"

"You know I told you I was going to Chili Peppers to take care of some business?"

"Yeah."

"Everyone sitting in that bar tonight was working for the government. Y/n was the bartender and the only one there with her emotions in tact. They were going to bring her in and brainwash her."

"The government has no jurisdiction here."

"They don't seem to care. You know Z is going to try and get his way no matter what."

"Great." Muttered Hongjoong. "Just what we needed."

Mingi removed his hat and let out a sigh, running his fingers through his short, choppily-cut pink hair.

"This is bad." He said to Hongjoong.

Meanwhile you were left to watch the tense exchange between the two, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. These two and their friends were the only people who could undo all of the damage Z has done to Strictland and here they are, visibly distraught.

"We still have the raid on Prestige." Hongjoong mentioned, making your ears perk up.

"Right." Mingi nodded. "That'll surely light a fire under Z. He won't see it coming."

Hongjoong peered into the distance, presumably where Prestige Academy sat.

"It's just a matter of time." He murmured.

"What's going on with Prestige?" You inquired, too curious to keep your mouth shut.

"We're going to sneak in and break everyone out of their trances. We've got an elaborate plan in place, we're just waiting to put it into motion." Mingi explained.

The government of Strictland was very powerful and this group of, you weren't sure how many people, are out here making big moves in order to save humanity. You commend them for their bravery but at the same time you wondered how someone could be so brave.

"I can't believe you guys do stuff like this."

"We have to. It's what we're here for." Mingi told you, his eyes holding a tsunami of emotions: commitment, determination, perhaps even a hint of fear.

"I'll leave you two alone." Hongjoong spoke up. "If you need me, I'll be downstairs."

With that, he stood up and entered a door that you assumed led to the inside of the building, leaving the rooftop so you and Mingi could converse in private.

"Have a seat." The pink-haired male gestured to a raised platform resembling the front of a ship with two telescopes set up on it.

He stepped up on the platform, offering you a gloved hand to grab onto, which you did and allowed him to assist you onto the raised surface.

He set his hat aside and took a seat, his long legs hanging off the side of the platform. You followed suit and made yourself comfortable beside him, resting your arms on the metal bar of the railing that lined the ship-like structure.

"So, what's your story?" You asked, gently swinging your legs back and forth.

Mingi's captivating lips stuck out in though while his eyes focused on the buildings in the distance.

"I guess I should start from the beginning."

And so he did. From being brought here by the Cromer to taking the places of the masked men in fedoras and saving Strictland. You stayed silent the whole time and let him speak without interrupting. When he finally finished, a heavy and lengthy silence hung in the night air.

"So, you're not from this world." You said it like a statement.

"No."

"And you agreed to take the place of the men in fedoras just like that?"

"Yes. There's no way we can go back to our old world, especially knowing this one needs saving."

An overwhelming rush of admiration swelled in your chest, as did your respect for Mingi, if that was even possible.

"You and your friends are so brave."

He huffed out a light chuckle. "Yeah, I guess we are. It's weird. When we were told we would have to step up, we did. We did it without thinking."

"Do you ever get scared?"

"A lot. There have been times where I worry our plans won't work or one of my friends is about to get caught. I'm afraid one day, we won't be so lucky."

"If you need an extra person on your team, I'm willing to step up."

Mingi's brows raised, his sharp eyes becoming rounder in surprise.

"I'm not sure what I can do, but I'm willing to help however I can." You added.

"Are you sure?"

Yes, Mingi had just met you but he felt somewhat protective of you and there was a small part of him that couldn't see you get hurt or captured by the android guardians.

"Yes I'm sure." You were adamant in your decision. "I lost the only friends I had to that dictator. He stripped them of their emotions."

Mingi's eyes met yours, serious and searching for more confirmation even though he could see it clearly on your face—there was no changing your mind.

"We need all the help we can get, but it won't be easy." He told you.

"Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. I'm up for whatever Strictland has to throw at me."

"Very well."

About that time, Hongjoong emerged onto the rooftop with a large sheet of rolled up paper in his hand that you presumed was a blueprint.

"Joong, we've got a new recruit." Mingi informed him.

"Is that so?"

You nodded in confirmation.

"What do you say we fill her in on the plans to invade Prestige?"

"I'm way ahead of you." Hongjoong wiggled the blueprint in his hand, bringing it over to spread it along the ground, revealing a grand plan. "Let's begin."

Seonghwa & Yeosang ⟡ Yunho & Jongho ⟡ San & Wooyoung

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

#ateez imagines #hongjoong #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong x reader #mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi imagines #ateez lore #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x y/n #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #kim hongjoong #ateez lore au #ateez outlaw #ateez outlaw au

143 notes · View notes

mikalame · 9 months

Note

Heyyy i loved “fixing up” can u pleaseee write some hcs of little tom and bill x reader😘🙏 (PLUS YOUR PROFILE IS SO CUTE I LOVE THE PINK)

-Kat💗

Just some cute lil head canons of being besties with the kaulitz gald you like the pick kat 😝

Taglist: @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam

After band practice you 3 would go to there house and play with their dads cards and play snap and go fish while eating snacks or talking about the being famous.

Playing around with the kaulitz mums makeup and bill copying what you do and doing it on himself but yk messy cuz yall are 8.

Helping tom with his dreads up keep or just raking your nails through his dreads aswell as bill or brushing out the hair spray in bills hair after a concert.

After bill went to star church and he only comes 2nd you comfort him by you and tom doing silly things like falling over or making funny faces and only stopping when bill cant breath cause hes laughing to hard

When its yours or theirs birthday you always do a cake smash where you 3 just make a total mess of the dining table and just trash it.

When your having a sleepover you 3 go to the park with like a cig each and smoke it while hiding in one of those plastic tubes that you hide in and when ever you heard something you would snuff it out and peek out of the holes in the tube.

When tom had told both of you he had lost his virginity you and bill made a cake with like a lil card and candles with icing congratulating him about it

When you got your first boyfriend and they saw you and that person holding hands then doing a cute lil peck on the lips they would scrub your hand till RED same with your face it would look like you had red lipstick smudge

If you were neighbours with them you 3 would have friday nights bbqs your parents would still and drink while you 3 would be running out of each house causing a muck and would end up sleeping on the trampoline

Your parents would also do like a carpool rotation so they would take turns taking you 3 into school and out of it

In school you and bill would hide under the bleachers during lunch and would gossip about what was happening in school or just people you didn't like

You three doing dress up and being all cute and stuff like tom being dressed as a dragon, you as a knight and bill as a lil princess being stuck in the tree house and tom pretending to kill him while you come in a save him

You sneaking over climbing through their window with your parents wine but spitting it out on the ground cause of the taste and putting it back like nothing happened

If you guys went on school exhibitions you would always try and be together and try and complete they scavenger hunts before the other groups you would always be super competitive

You three would do drawing comps and get your parents to judge but because they don't wanna be rude they say you 3 tied but being competitive little 9 year olds you start yelling at them to pick a winner and that you wont be sad if one of the other win (bill cry's when he don't win then tom calls him a sore loser (only when he wins tho)

Being the only girl you have some ups and downs they might be a little bit softer on you but not a lot you would also get teased a lot if it was windy and your hair was getting messed up.

Trying to bake and you 3 just end up throwing flour at each other and you and tom ending up on the floor brawling over who was going to mix but bill just ends up doing rolling his eyes.

At carnivals you 3 would get matching stick on tattoos like tom would get a lion bill would get a tiger and you would get a leopard all on your arm like a sleeve and would look in the mirror flexing and posing.

Every now and again you get beg tom enough to put makeup over him give him a make up tom usually ruins it by drawing a fake mustach on himself with eyeliner when you and bill rent looking

Hope you like Kat 😘

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x reader

189 notes · View notes

dotster001 · 1 year

Note

Hey I decided to try your event request! For TWST, I was absolutely stuck between Vil and Malleus, but ended up choosing Vil. I’m a simp and both appealed a lot to me, what can I say? Right now, I still use him in battles and him occasionally on my home screen, but he shares the spot with Malleus. Although if I have to be honest, Diasomnia is my fave dorm and I consider Mal my husbando more, with Vil as secondary fave.

I like to think that Vil eventually got his revenge by playing hard to get, because his birthday and Halloween cards both forced me to hit pity before I pulled him. On the other hand, Malleus was more shy and took me forever before I got any of his SR cards.

I honestly truly love both and have difficulty deciding which one is my favorite. So overall, I’d like maybe a playing hard to get Vil, whose also trying to show off, while Malleus is secretly (obviously) pining from afar and trying to be aloof, but failing. I feel like the two may get competitively petty, so I’d like to see that! Overall, a cute but lovey dovey romantic battle! Make it so that they’re consistently trying to one up each other.

Other details about me: I’m kind of shy when it comes to romance. Not easily swayed by material goods OR words, but rather actions. I dont mind light yandereness.

( Hi boo! Thanks for participating! I hope you enjoy, your petty competitive men! Side note, I love how many of you have already built up stories based on your card draws. It's cracking me up 😂)

CW:soft Yan!content. Mostly just unhealthy possessiveness.

A Tale of Malleus and Vil Competing for their Lover

Vil’s morning routine had always been long. But these days it took at least two hours, with lots of new products added to his arsenal on top of his already extensive product list. New products included a hair spray that made his hair shimmer, nail polish that changed color to the viewer’s favorite color, perfume that was whatever scent your beloved found comfort in, and a lipstick that made it very hard to resist kissing him. And those were only a couple of his secret weapons.

After preparing for the day, he left the dorm, making sure his form fitting shirt and pants had plenty of the perfume on them. It was the weekend, so he knew he could find his target hanging out in the courtyard. He may or may not have scheduled a photo shoot in said courtyard, but he was generous, and would let you remain in the area.

He arrived just in time to see the photographer trying to shoo you away. Vil scowled. He knew the photographer was trying to help, but he was ruining his plan.

“Potato,” He said to the photographer, “What seems to be the problem?”

"This student is going to be in the shot."

"I can leave if you need me to. I didn't know you'd be here today, Vil," you said, your eyes trained on his lips subconsciously. At least his lipstick was going the way it was supposed to.

He gave a dramatic sigh. "As long as you stay out of the way, you can stay. I do better with an audience anyway."

You nodded and went back to where you liked to sit, your eyes following his every movement.

….

He really did do better with an audience. If the audience was you. He felt alluring, and sexy, and stunning with your eyes trained on him as he posed.

A couple more shots. Then he'd take a water break. He knew the perfect angle to accentuate his profile in the sunlight and….what was he doing here?

"Take five," he snapped at the photographer as he made his way to Malleus, who was taking a seat on the bench across from yours. He seemed to be reading a book, but Vil knew better.

"Draconia," he said, voice full of venom. "There's a shoot happening here. Please read elsewhere."

Malleus looked up at him, his eyes flashing with emerald electricity.

"Schoenheit. I am not in your way. I am just reading."

Vil was about to snarl something nasty when you spoke up.

"I can help you find a better spot to read, if you want Tsunotarou," you spoke up.

Both men looked at you in shock.

Malleus recovered first, with a satisfied smirk.

"I'd rather not disrupt your activities, Child of man," he hummed.

"It's alright, I have some homework I'm supposed to be doing, but Vil's photoshoot is too distracting. It's hard to focus on anything but him," you said with a laugh.

Both men clenched their jaw, for different, but similar, reasons.

But Malleus knew that he had won this battle, so he closed his book, stood up, and held out his arm.

"Lead the way, Child of man. Show me a better private place."

Vil seethed as you both walked away, but said nothing. He'd lost this battle, but the war wasn't over.

"I'll win the next one, Draconia," he hissed quietly.

He knew it wasn't possible that he could have heard him, but the booming laugh Malleus let out was quite the coincidence.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #1k followers #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus x reader #yandere vil x reader #twst malleus #yandere twisted wonderland x reader

317 notes · View notes

pareidoliaonthemove · 5 months

Text

Business Dealings

There were definite advantages to being the ‘unknown’ Tracy, Virgil decided.

And in his opinion, the very best of these was the extra freedom he had over his brothers.

Virgil smiled at the attractive and attentive waitress who delivered his – decidedly unhealthy – lunch to his private booth, then rolled his shoulders, grinning to himself.

His brothers might have public success, a public profile, and receive some … interesting fan mail, that certainly enlivened quiet days on Tracy Island; but the price they paid for this recognition was, well, recognition.

It had gotten to the point that Jeff had mandated personal security for the four of his sons who had existed in the public eye. Virgil, however …

There was no way a bodyguard would have let him into this neighbourhood, let alone this dive of a diner – that made the world’s best burger and fries, hands down. And the looming gorillas in suits that were Tracy Industries personal protection specialists definitely discouraged the kind of ‘friendly’ service the waitress was giving him.

A gaggle of teenagers came bouncing into the diner, drawing away the waitress. Virgil watched bemusedly as one of the boys started teasing her.

He drowned a laugh in his milkshake, as she bapped one on the head with her notebook, reminding Virgil of Scott dealing with Gordon in one of his troublemaking moods.

Virgil ate as the waitress settled the group, and took their orders.

Once they had been served their food, she checked back in with him, and promptly fetched his requested coffee.

Then she sat herself at the table with the teens. “So what was all the noise about when you came in?”

“We’re celebrating!” came the chorus.

“Celebrating what?”

“Johnny got his photos back!” crowed the obvious sibling.

“And what photos are those, then?”

“Well, you know how that busted old factory over in Industrial East blewed itsself up?”

“It was kinda hard to miss. They’re still tryin’ to replace all the windows it broke, after two weeks.”

“Yeah, well, there was those two guys trapped, and they had ta get International Rescue to get ‘em out.”

“I know that.”

So did Virgil. It had been a nightmare rescue, and was a completely avoidable situation. Virgil was in town now as Tracy Industries representative; his father was buying the site, and the attached business. It had been a viable manufacturer, with a good product – the disaster had been caused by greedy management.

Jeff was trying to prevent an even bigger disaster – the collapse of a middle sized town. For all it was a ‘busted old factory’, it was a major employer in the region. The people deserved better.

The waitress continued, “Wish I’d been able to see them. Either the planes or the men. Pity I was stuck here.”

Little brother laughed. “Well, today’s your lucky day!”

Virgil froze. The boy hadn’t paid him any attention when he came in, he couldn’t have been there and recognised Virgil, could he?

His fingers strayed to his watch. Should he call his Father? Could he contain the situation here on his own?

“Cause Johnny here is a genius, and he thought to grab his camera. So here, today, is the first ever photographs of the …”

“THUNDERBIRDS!” the group shouted in unison, and broke out cheering.

Virgil started, slopping coffee onto himself, but now he had bigger worries. Brains was trialling a new technology in the ships, with a view to replacing the Photo Detectors, after the detection system had failed at that movie set, and Scott hadn’t reported activity of either system at debrief. Had the new technology disrupted the Detectors? Had the Photo Jammers worked?

The waitress noticed his mishap, and hurried over, napkins at the ready. “I’m so sorry, did you scald yourself? Can I get you a fresh cup?”

Virgil shook his head, accepting the wad of napkins. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I was in a world of my own and I got startled by the noise.” He smiled. “I’m not normally so jumpy.”

She smiled in return. “They were loud, but, please, don’t mind those idiots. They’re a little excitable.”

Virgil deposed of the dampened napkins – he was going to have to change his shirt, his father would kill him if he turned up at a business meeting with a giant coffee stain on his shirt, and turned back to the waitress. “Sounds like it. Was that the Thunderbirds they were shouting about?”

She glared back at the group. “Oh yes, we had a bit of excitement a couple of weeks back. International Rescue saved two guys from a factory fire across town. Johnny here reckons he got photographs of them.”

“Yeah! We were just gonna have our first look! You wanna see?” The teens where hanging over Virgil’s booth, grinning, and immensely pleased with themselves.

Virgil nodded. “I’d heard they had some kind of system to stop photos being taken,” he ventured as the kids piled in across from him.

“Yeah, well I shot these beauties, no problem,” boasted one boy. Virgil eyed him, worriedly, trying to see if he could recognise the boy, but couldn’t. Hopefully the fact that Virgil had spent the whole time in his fire-suit would mean the boy couldn’t recognise him.

Apparently there was nothing about Virgil that rang any bells in ‘Johnnys’ memories; either that, or he was too focused on his moment of glory. “You’re lucky, mista,” the boy continued. “‘Cus the rest of the world is gonna hafta pay to see these!” He grinned. “And pay big! Hell, I might even buy myself an island, like that astronaut weirdo!”

There was laughter and catcalls at this pronouncement, and Virgil carefully swallowed his reaction. He gestured to the envelope. “Well, before you call the realtors, better check the goods.”

There were enthusiastic cries of encouragement, and the envelope was opened with a care that amused Virgil. Johnny couldn’t have been more careful if he had been handling the Mona Lisa.

The first two photographs were blurry generic landscapes, then a series of five less blurry images of bared backsides hanging out of a car’s windows at traffic lights. Virgil picked one up, and examined it briefly, before it was snatched out of his hand by a red-faced boy. Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, “One of his models, I take it?”

The boy flushed even brighter red, as the waitress laughed.

“No!” That was Johnny, staring, bug eyed at the top photo in his hand. Virgil craned his neck. A blurry, staticky mess of grey tones filled the centre of the image framed by the clear, focused image of the fire ravaged factory building.

The group fell silent.

The image was discarded in favour of the next in the stack. “No!”

The next. “No!”

“No!”

All the way down the stack. Every image had the same distortion, sometimes in the centre, sometimes there were smaller, multiple areas of distortion.

Virgil could tell what the boy had been trying to photograph by the relative sizes and positions. Thunderbird One. Thunderbird Two. Both Thunderbirds. Thunderbird Two on her struts. Thunderbird Two with her module open. The Diceltalyne Ladder truck ….

If it International Rescue had it on site, Johnny had tried to photograph it. Including, Virgil noted, himself and his brothers. Those zoomed in shots with the four small blurs could only be an attempt to photograph people.

Virgil was impressed. Kid clearly had some quality gear.

When Virgil said as much, Johnny roused himself enough to offer a slight proud grin. “Yeah, my uncle gave it to me, he’s a professional photographer and upgraded. I got his old stuff.” The boy wilted again. “Not that it did me much good,” he mumbled, staring at the blurry images.

Virgil smiled wryly. “International Rescue are pretty adamant about the no photographs thing,” he reminded the boy. “Looks like I heard right about their anti-photography kit.”

Johnny sighed. “Yeah.” He shuffled the photographs back into a stack, before glancing around the room. “There goes my private island,” he sighed. “Oh well.”

Virgil took the stack from him, and perused through it again. Johnny looked utterly miserable, and the rest of the gang was equally morose.

Virgil came to a decision. “You get these developed in town here?” he asked.

Johnny nodded. “Yeah, drugstore down on First does photos.”

Virgil slid out the ‘International Rescue’ photos into their own pile. “They do enlargements, say A4 size?”

Johnny frowned. “Yeah. Why do you want to know?”

“What’s he charge?”

There was a muttered argument across the table, and the waitress watched him warily. Johnny offered up a price. Virgil suppressed a smirk. Kid was damn good, price was high, but not so high as to be implausible.

He did a quick spot of mental arithmetic. Then reconsidered, before sliding one of the traffic stop images onto the International Rescue pile, and pulled out his wallet, before counting out a number of notes on the pile, before pushing it towards Johnny.

“I’ll be back here this time tomorrow,” he said. “Think you can be here with A4 copies of all these?”

The boy gaped at the cash. “Uh, yeah. I guess so. Why?”

Virgil tapped the cash. “If you are, you get the same amount again. That should keep you in film, and out of trouble for a while.”

The boy stared. “But … but you can’t see anything. They’re all blurry.”

Virgil nodded. “Yep. But I know a lot of guys interested in International Rescue. These …” he gestured at the photos. “Will drive them nuts.” He grinned at the boy.

Who grinned back.

The waitress looked at Virgil suspiciously. “And the, uh, ass picture?”

Virgil grinned. “I took some similar photos, when I first got a camera, about Johnny’s age,” he admitted. “My Grandma found them, and tore them up, and then tore strips off me.” He shrugged, sheepishly. “Figured it’d be nice to have something to remind me of the out night I had with my friends. ‘Cause we had a lot of fun.”

As the boys hooted in glee, and high-fived each other, the waitress stared at Virgil, before softening. “Boys,” she snorted.

Virgil shrugged. “Guilty as charged.”

The next day, Virgil wandered into the diner, and was surprised to find Johnny already waiting for him, shifting from foot to foot, anxiously.

Virgil slid into the booth he had occupied the previous day, and Johnny followed him, clutching a large envelope to his chest.

The waitress wandered over, and took Virgil’s order. She looked at Johnny. Virgil followed her gaze. “If you’re eating, I’m paying,” he said.

Johnny shook his head. “Nah,” he mumbled, not meeting Virgil’s eyes. Virgil frowned, and glanced at the waitress in askance. She shrugged, before wandering off.

“What’s up? Problem with the pictures?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda.”

Virgil stared. “What’s the problem? Couldn’t get them all printed?”

Johnny mumbled at the tabletop. “I didn’t think about it. I just … took the photos. I didn’t think about what could happen.”

Virgil frowned. “What could happen?” he echoed.

“They say no photos. They say they have to stay secret. I didn’t think …”

Virgil got it. “You’re worried that someone might be able to unscramble these pictures, and then they’ll stop working. You’re worried about the people who might die if that happens, people who’ll die because of photos you took.”

Johnny stared at him. “Yeah, how’d you …?”

Virgil shrugged. “Because I’d worry about the same thing, if I were in your place.”

“So why’d …”

“Why’d I offer to buy the photos?” Virgil glanced around, checking for anybody listening. “Because International Rescue saved two of my friends. And my dad.”

The boy stared.

Virgil sighed, and pulled out his wallet, digging into a hidden section, he pulled out a folded up newspaper clipping. He opened it up, and pushed it across the table to Johnny.

He picked it up, and read the article.

He frowned, and read it again.

Then stared at Virgil.

“Th-this says that they saved … J-jeff …”

Virgil nodded. “Yup.”

“Your dad’s one of his advisors?” The boy was practically begging Virgil to agree.

Virgil shook his head. “Nope. His advisors are my friends.”

“Y-y-you’re …”

Virgil took pity on him. “I’m Jeff Tracy’s son. Well, one of them. He asked me to come and oversee the purchase of that ‘busted old factory’.”

The boy stared. “Why?”

“It was a good business. The problem was with the managers, not the product, not the production. And without that factory, this town dies.”

Johnny stared at him.

Virgil took back his newspaper clipping as the waitress put down his order. Virgil chewed down a dozen fries and drank a good half of his coffee while he waited for Johnny to regather his wits.

Eventually his companion spoke. “Your dad’s like mega-rich.”

“Yup.”

“He has all sorts of people working for him.”

“Yup.”

“I give you these photos,” Johnny tapped the envelope, “you give them to him.”

Virgil shrugged. “That was the plan.”

“And he gives them to some hotshot photograph technician who unscrambles the images …”

“Wrong.”

Johnny stared at him.

“Most of my training is as an engineer, but I really love art. I’ve done a few – more than a few – photography courses. The kind of mess you’ve got there,” Virgil indicated the envelopes, “is some kind of electronic – maybe even x-ray – emission messing up the film. Unless you know the frequencies, it’d take oh, I don’t know, a hundred people a million years to unscramble those images.”

The boy blinked.

“And you’d need the negatives,” Virgil added, deciding this his burger had been neglected for long enough, and took a bite, watching as Johnny thought it through.

Johnny frowned. “You’d really need the negatives?”

Virgil nodded, his mouth full of – really delicious – burger.

Johnny nodded thoughtfully. “I remember my uncle saying that you need the original negatives to do proper forensic analysis of a photograph. That’s why a photographer should never let go of his negatives.”

Virgil nodded again, taking another bite. Damn, he was gonna miss this place when he left. Grandma and Kyrano were fantastic cooks, but a proper greasy diner burger was hard to beat.

He finished the burger before Johnny moved again. Evidently the boy had come to some kind of decision, because he pulled out a negatives folder, and slid the ashtray into the centre of the table. “You got a light?” he asked as he dumped the negatives into ashtray.

Virgil frowned. “You not gonna save the rest of your negatives?”

Johnny shook his head. “They’re blurry as all hell, and useless, no point.”

Virgil eyed him, but the teen was resolute. Virgil shrugged. “Well, if you’re sure,” he pulled out his cigarette lighter, a cheap disposable thing that frustrated his father and brothers, but suited Virgil fine. He pulled it back, when Johnny reached for it. “Not inside,” he said firmly. “Film burns fast, and film burns hot. You do not want to do this inside.”

They went outside, Virgil borrowing a broom from the bemused waitress to sweep clear a large patch of asphalt as far from the diner and anything flammable as he could get. At his gesture, Johnny put the negatives down, weighed against the breeze by a small piece of wood, as Virgil wrapped a scrap of cleaning cloth around one end of a long stick.

When Johnny was ready, Virgil used his lighter to light the cloth, and handed the stick to Johnny. “Arm and stick length,” he commanded. “Stay up wind.”

As Virgil had known it would, the film burst into enthusiastic and hot flame the second the lit stick touched it. Johnny jumped, and dropped the stick, swearing.

The fire didn’t last for long, and Virgil picked up the stick stamping down on the charred end to put out the residual flame, before using it to poke at the pathetic ashes in front of them.

Johnny stared, bug eyed again as Virgil poked the ashes, and pushed the pathetic scraps of film into the melted asphalt, sealing them away forever.

Virgil glanced at him. “You okay?”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah. I just never … damn, that was … scary.”

Virgil shrugged. But he did remember the first time he had tried burning film … He’d had a hang of a time explaining how the bathroom basin had gotten cracked through. Who’d have thought you could crack porcelain with a couple of strips of photographic film? Not fourteen-year-old Virgil Tracy.

They went back into the diner, and Virgil ordered milkshakes. Johnny slurped his as Virgil examined his new purchases. He grinned. Brains would be pleased that his new photo jammers worked beautifully, and against some high-grade kit. Johnny had been coaxed into describing the equipment his uncle had given him, and it was better than a lot of the professional paparazzi had hanging from their necks.

Virgil’s grin widened as he got the bottom of the stack. Oh, memory. His backside burned with the memory of his grandmother’s ire, but he owed Gordon, and he owed Gordon big. This would do nicely.

Let’s see him ‘paint’ with his butt on Virgil’s good canvases after Grandma had thrashed him for having this.

Virgil was on a high as he left the diner for the last time; Johnny practically skipping off, his stomach and wallet full, and conscience clean.

International Rescue: Protected.

Payback for Gordon: Secured.

It was just the Tracy Industries deal left to finalise, and he’d have a clean sweep.

It was a good day.

Notes:

I sat down to write a completely different story, and this happened.

One day I may get to write the story I intended to write, but for now …

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #fanfiction #my fanfic #virgil tracy #photography #boys will be boys

38 notes · View notes

little-diable · 1 year

Text

Be aware of the strangers watching - Spencer Reid (2/2)

@hidingsikki and I kept watching Spencer TikTok edits those past days, so we came up with this idea. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: It didn't take the team long to notice that (y/n)'s missing, while they are trying to find her, she's forced to realise that she probably won't make it through the upcoming hours. Time is fleeting and so is her life.

Warnings: 18+, angst, panic attack, fear of dying, kidnapping, mentions smut

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3k words)

header by @hidingsikki

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Part One

“Try calling her again, maybe she’s stuck in traffic.” Hotch’s voice filled the room, drawing the worried gazes of the team members towards him. They should have left minutes ago, called away by a new case, and yet (y/n) was missing - without a message or a note telling the team about her whereabouts.

“Did you always split up on your way here? Weren’t you supposed to drive together?” Derek murmured his words into Spencer’s direction, gaze flickering towards the elevator whenever somebody stepped out of it, filling them with hope for a fraction of a second till the sinking feeling of realisation swapped over them.

“No, we used to come in together, but like I said, I had to pick up my bag, so (y/n) went ahead and drove here on her own.” Spencer’s voice dripped with worry, seemingly just as scared as the rest of the team. Their thoughts were racing, coming up with cruel scenarios about what could have happened to her.

The more minutes passed by, the more confused the others got. No longer was their case a priority, no, they were all focused on (y/n), trying to locate her. Garcia had disappeared minutes ago, trying to find something online, hoping that wherever (y/n) may currently be, she’d make it through the next hours. Alive.

“I’ll call the Sheriff to let them know that we won’t come in today. Reid, drive back to (y/n)’s place, take Derek with you. Emily, see if you can help Garcia locate (y/n) on any cameras, Dave with me.” With a nod sent Aaron’s way, the team began to disappear out of the room, leaving behind nothing but the reminders of the conversation they have been forced to share.

“Hello?” Her voice was trembling, echoing through the dark (y/n) found herself stuck in. Her hands tried to find something she could use to hold on to, though it only took her a few seconds to realise that she didn’t have a way out. She was stuck. In a box.

“Hello? Spencer!” (Y/n)’s breaths grew panicked, growing faster and more shallow with every passing second as the thought of suffocating in a box dawned on her. “Spencer? Please, oh god.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to kick her legs, hoping that she’d be able to break through the material of the box, but without any luck. It didn’t take her long to realise that she wasn’t stuck in a wooden box, but a metallic one.

It was almost ironic, but her mind couldn’t help but focus on Spencer, on the calming words he’d speak to her. Fuck, the mere thought of Spencer used to calm her, but now it didn’t do much but haunt her. (Y/n) could still feel the anxiety thumping through her veins, wondering why he had done something this cruel.

Her screams grew raspy, no longer able to give her anxiety enough room to verbally bubble out of her.

“Are you okay?” Derek stopped Spencer from stepping out of (y/n)’s home, faces full or worry as it slowly dawned on them that somebody must have ripped her away from them. It took the man a moment to reply, staring into Derek’s eyes as if he was trying to find answers to the questions keeping his thoughts racing.

“I wish we didn’t split up, it’s all my fault.” Derek pulled Spencer in for a hug, patting his back to wordlessly communicate that everything would be alright. The team wasn’t stupid, all were awfully aware of the tension between the young profiler and (y/n), the emotions keeping them chained together like secret lovers having to make it through their days. She’d have to make it back to them, for the sake of the team, for the sake of Spencer.

“We’ll find her, we have to.” Slowly they pulled away from one another, leaving the place with a heavy heart and darkening thoughts. The sound of Derek’s phone going off echoed through the air, making the man falter in his steps as Spencer closed the passenger door.

“Tell me something positive, babygirl.” It took Penelope a moment to reply, whispering her words as if she was scared that anybody close could pick up on the things she was about to share.

“Are you still with Spencer?” Derek’s eyes found Spencer’s frame in the car, momentarily staring at the man who had his eyes closed, seemingly wrecking his brain for any clues, things they could have missed.

“He’s not around, why?” A heavy gulp was heard, followed by a shaky exhale of breath.

“I haven’t told the others yet, but he didn’t leave her place on his own, he left with (y/n).” Penelope was rambling, clearly distressed by what she had seen on the traffic cameras, allowing her to follow the couple from (y/n)’s place to Spencer’s. “I lost them shortly after they left her home, but he lied to us.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him. See if you can find them again, maybe something happened that he was too embarrassed to share with us.” Derek’s heart kept racing faster with every step he took towards the black SUV, starting the car without speaking another word. Spencer kept studying him, clearly waiting for the man to spill whatever new information he had just stumbled upon.

“Why did you lie?” His voice dripped with anger and confusion, eyes finding Spencer’s as the car came to a halt at a red light. No longer were Spencer’s eyes wide, with his pupils dilated to carry the sadness he felt, no, he stared at his colleague with no expression tugging on his features, unemotional as one can be.

“What do you mean?”

“You left with her, you lied to us, Spencer.” No words followed Derek’s murmurs, making an uncomfortable silence linger in the car. It took the profiler moments to reply, moments filled with dread, passing by slower than the hours before.

“It must have slipped my mind, I guess I was too focused on the other questions.”

Tears kept rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her quivering chin. She had stopped kicking her feet, slowly but surely accepting the fact that nobody would find her. Perhaps the team was looking for her, perhaps they had left before they could notice that she was in fact missing, ripped away by a lie Spencer had told them.

And yet, deep down she desperately clung to the thought of her team, something inside of her tried to reassure her that she would make it out alive. Now she was one of them, one of the ones she’d rescue on a weekly basis. Did they feel as confused as she felt? Were they angry at the ones making them suffer? Were they sad about the sudden turn of events or had they always anticipated that something would eventually happen?

Not once had she tried to imagine that Spencer could be the one behind all of this. Not once had she even tried to ask Spencer about his behaviour, the confusing switches in his emotions - a clear sign for the trauma he had experienced at prison.

Her mind kept wandering back to the past days, reliving the moments they’ve shared, how he had taken care of her with his lips pressed against hers and his hands wandering down her sides. (Y/n) couldn’t help but curse herself for the excitement she’s felt, how for the first time in months she had been able to give into her feelings

„Fuck, help, please. I don’t want to die.” Slowly but surely she felt the air getting thinner, no longer able to breathe properly.

“Is that him?” Derek was standing behind Penelope, staring at the screen that showed a video of Spencer leaving his home with a body, presumably (y/n), thrown over his shoulder. Quick, panicked breaths left the woman as she kept watching the video, not able to understand what was going on.

“It is, I followed him through traffic, he parked in front of a warehouse, and carried her inside. Minutes later he left without her.” Tears welled up in Penelope’s eyes as she looked up at Derek, wondering why Spencer had done something like this.

“Call Hotch down here, send me the address of the warehouse.” Derek was out of the room before Penelope could even try to reply, eyes flickering back to the screen, following Spencer’s frame with glassy eyes.

The next moments passed by in a blur, while Derek violated every traffic law, pressing down on the gas to reach the warehouse, the others had surrounded Spencer, asking the man with wide eyes questions he didn’t seem to understand.

“What did you do to her?” Emily’s voice dripped with anger, an anger so burning she no longer acted professionally, rather like a friend fearing for her friend’s life. Tears welled up in Spencer’s eyes as his gaze flickered between the ones staring him down, shaking his head with a sob rumbling through his trembling body.

“I don’t know. Oh god, I don’t know.” His voice was raspy, carrying the emotions he felt. He couldn’t remember what had happened, couldn’t remember being at his place with her, all he could remember was the drive to the BAU, nothing else.

“I need a number!” Derek’s voice echoed from the speakers, screaming the words as if he was the one fighting for his life. Spencer stuttered, unable to pronounce his reply, choking on the heavy sobs that clawed through him.

“We need a number, Spencer. Which part of the warehouse belongs to you?” Hotch had his arms crossed, managing to stay calm, at least that’s what it seemed like to his colleagues, not nearly as emotional as the others.

“43.”

The sound of Derek’s heavy breaths filled the silence that now lingered in the room, eyes not daring to move away from Spencer. Within the next moments the sound of a gun going off rang in their ears, a sign of victory, allowing Derek into the warehouse chamber that belonged to Spencer.

“(Y/n)? It’s me, Derek.” No reply could be heard, forcing the hearts of those who were listening to beat faster. “I can’t see her anywhere. (Y/n)?”

A silence so defeating engulfed them that even the others couldn’t help but let the tears well up in their eyes, preparing for the truth that could rip their lives apart. The mere thought of losing (y/n) left them trembling, not able to think of a life without her close. She was their lynchpin, the centre of their relationships.

“(Y/n)? Fuck.”

“What is it? Did you find her? Is she alive?” The questions bubbled out of Spencer before he could stop himself, not daring to look away from the phone that had been placed on the table. Derek’s heavy breaths kept filling the dreading moments of silence.

“She’s in a box, I got her. C’mon, doll, you have to breathe for me, c’mon. Don’t you dare die on me now.”

#Spencer Reid imagine #be aware of the strangers watching #Spencer Reid x reader #Criminal Minds

158 notes · View notes

saytr · 5 months

Note

Just wanted to drop by and say I love your art! You probably get a lot of asks like this, but it truly is beautiful. Your grasp on anatomy is INSANE, and your art is really the only reason I do anatomy studies. I love how confident your lines are, how refined they are. You're an extreme inspiration to me and I really want you to know that.

Also, SIDE PROFILES (human side profiles specifically). YOU'RE SO GOOD AT THOSE ALCHLCHXHLCLLUVVI. I can barely make them look okay 😅

And even though you draw humans quite regularly, you still draw animals really well and the style is consistent.

I literally squeal over your art daily, you have no idea! I sound like a goat!

But really, I love your art, so never stop arting my friend! And if you ever do, I hope you had fun while doing so :)

What an ask, what a message! I Am honored!

First of all, i am touched and happy to know that i am an inspiration to you! And that my doodles got you interested in anatomy! It is a fun thing to draw some naked humans! Their skin and how light brings out all the musceles and how their skin bends! Such art in itself! I hope you find it as lovely as me! <3 AND have fun ofc!

Fun fact! I learned side profils by my grandpa, he was an amazing artist! He even touched the first versions of Photoshop! He tried at least to teach me the rest, but i got a short attention span when i was younger, so he just gave me his Apple Macbook and let me draw some dinos! XD And sims, i played a lot of sims on his Mac. Side profils are actually really easy, once you have a system, i may do some "How i draw XXXX" if people are interested! ;3 I drew at first only animals, dragons... But most i drew dinosaurs! Humans came WAAAY later, tried to draw humans when i was younger as well, but a family member made fun of those and i stuck with animals! HA! Till i met the actor Sebastian Roche at my city Con, and he wrote on the autograph pic: "Draw more humans" which i did. :3

Sometimes my mental health isn't the best and i take breaks from drawing, but i will return to it! I am happy that you enjoy my silly doodles and love to see more younger folks trying to get their lil feet into the colourful rainbow stream! Dive in, paddle along or float on it, your way of swimming, your style! ;D

#ask #cococroissant #personal

36 notes · View notes

callsign-bunnie · 1 year

Note

Omg I'm late but fnaf??? Fnaf pls???

Okay, so I am going to make art for this. But... I had no motivation to draw. I did, however, have the motivation to write. This was going to be one part. A... one shot if you will.

This part, alone, is over 5k words.

Ask for part 2 if you want it.

It had started with a post on a “less than legal actions” forum.

Rodolfo had found himself a frequenter on Deep Web forums. It wasn’t the place the media sensationalized it to be and… he had a few coping habits that got fueled by some of the substance websites on there. There was no better way to find the drugs he needed than some weird guy selling on a site called “Powders, Pills, and Concoctions” with a marijuana leaf next to it.

He had almost laughed when he saw it, believing it was probably bullshit. I’m a 19 year old, looking for other 19 year olds to break into the old Unquatrun Pizzeria with me. It was stupid! Rodolfo had just rolled his eyes and clicked out of it, moving on to the homework he had from Uni.

But then… it’d gotten stuck in his brain. Like a gnat, buzzing around, he’d found himself thinking about it three days later. He knew why he’d been drawn to it… Why his mind kept going back to it… The pizzeria was calling him, demanding he find out what had happened to his best friend.

Hey, so if this is bullshit, whatever. But… I can help you break in. The only response when he’d checked a few days later. Finally, he’d let himself check out the profiles. A soap bar was the profile picture of the original poster. He even referred to himself as Soap. He was like Rodolfo, apparently, and had even been on the previously mentioned drug site, having gotten hooked on pain meds when he was getting treated for cancer.

The other guy was someone who apparently claimed to have first hand experience with the pizzeria on another post about it. He called himself Alex and apparently he’d been having nightmares about the place since he was 14.

Even still, Rodolfo hadn’t found himself entertaining the idea.

Until he’d gotten way too high one night and he’d just… migrated to the post and responded that he would go as well.

Within seconds, he’d been added to a groupchat with the other two. Are you serious about coming? -Soap

I am. I have my own reasons, but I am.

We’re going next Saturday. Can you make it? -Soap

Yes.

Awesome! What’s your name? -Alex

Rodolfo.

We’ll see you then, Rodolfo. 11:00. -Soap

And here he was. Standing in front of the pizzeria.

He clenched his hands and then hugged himself, tucking them under his arms in an effort to stop shaking. He’d been, once again, trying to quit. He couldn’t keep living on this uppers in the morning so he could get through the day and downers in the evening so he could sleep… Cocaine and alcohol was his main vice, but he had found others that he kept around for a pinch.

The building was exactly like he remembered it… Too much like he remembered it. Fuck, the local Pizza Hut looked different in the last five years, but this place was straight out of his memories… Same grey brick building, same red awnings, same Black Panther, Red Fox, and Rainbow Bear on the sign above the front windows and entrance…

He shook it off as he saw two others approach out of the corner of his eye and turned to them. They were a strange pair. One was significantly taller than both Rodolfo and the other. Blonde and… built. Rodolfo found himself blushing slightly, trying not to look over his body too much. “Hey, I’m Alex.” He half grinned, offering a hand. “Rodolfo, right?”

“Yeah.” Rodolfo nodded and shook his head, trying hard and failing to not notice the scars across his wrist and arms when the sleeves of a black leather jacket rode up. He did look dressed to be breaking in somewhere, wearing a black leather jacket, a Led Zeppelin tee shirt, and dark wash jeans.

Then, he turned to the other, who was only just slightly taller than him and had a ridiculous mohawk hairstyle. Look, it was the first thing he noticed. The second thing he noticed was how pale he was, how dark his under eyes were. If Rodolfo remembered the post, right, he should only be a year in remission… He had on a baggy hoodie and sport shorts and despite how shit he looked, he had a slightly husky build. “Hey, I’m Soap!” He grinned. “Or, Johnny Mactavish. You two are helping me break into a restaurant, you can know my name.”

“Right.” Rodolfo nodded. “It’s nice to meet you both…” He cringed back, feeling a bit out of place with the other two. He was a lot more put together, wearing brown academia shorts, a sweater, and his boots. He never thought he’d be insecure about not looking like a mess. “So… How are we doing this thing?”

Alex snorted and then something was jingling and Rodolfo’s eye was caught by a flash of silver. He saw Alex get out a set of keys and then he was just marching up to the glass doors at the entrance, which had three promotional posters on them.

He recognized the three main animatronics on each of them. Ghost, an emo panther who sang mostly kid friendly parodies of 80’s rock. That one was particularly silly. Then there was Mateo, a red fox who could speak Spanish. Alejandro had loved that one… Rodolfo looked away from the poster before the cold could seep into his body. His hands were shaking enough, already. Then, the third, which Rodolfo didn’t get a chance to get a good look at before Alex was swinging open the door, was a Rainbow Bear, named Gaz, apparently after the owner’s kid. He was the main lead of the cast. Of course he was, it was always the bear.

They weren’t the only animatronics, too. There were three more, though one had been decommissioned for four years, apparently, due to a malfunctioning mainframe.

Alex cursed as the alarm started to go off and then he was running to the back of the restaurant. Rodolfo was starting to wonder just how intimate he was with the place… Soap and Rodolfo stepped inside the restaurant and waited for the alarm to stop.

“So… Why did you want to break in?” Rodolfo asked before he could really stop himself.

Soap shrugged. “I want a picture with the Panther.” He answered. “A cool picture.”

“Couldn’t you have came in when the daytime? I thought they had a photo booth thing with the characters?” Rodolfo asked, finding the explanation absurd. They were breaking and entering… For a picture??

Soap grinned. “They do, but it’s a man in a suit. I want it with the actual animatronic. I want it with the real Ghost.”

Rodolfo had to refrain from saying that the animatronic wasn’t real. He was just an… animatronic. That was it. Clearly Soap wanted a picture and… well, he couldn’t judge his reasoning too much. Or shouldn’t, because he most definitely was. Whatever.

Finally, Alex came back to the front lobby, where the ticket desk was. The animatronics were closer to the back, past all of the games and tables. “Sorry, I had to go to the security office and input the code.”

Rodolfo became aware that the alarm was suddenly off and before he could ask how Alex knew the code, Soap was speaking. “That’s alright. Is there a way to get the lights up in here?”

“No. Unfortunately not. They’re on a sensor for the timer.” Alex sighed. “Only the man who owns the damn place has that code.”

“Damn.” Soap sighed, clearly disappointed. “It’s cool. Phones were invented with flash for a reason. Hey, do you think there’s any food? I’m starving.”

Alex shrugged. “I could check. I’m sure they stick leftovers in a fridge or something. Come on, let’s go see.”

Rodolfo shook his head, wanting at least a few answers. “No. No. Dude, you have keys and the security code. What the fuck??”

Soap frowned and then turned to stare at Alex. “He’s got a point.”

Alex winced and then sighed. “You’re right. But… I don’t know. I found them in my mom’s desk. I didn’t even know she knew the owner of this place until a month ago… I… Apparently she used to co-own it with the other owner? John Price? I didn’t know.”

“How the fuck did you not know that??” Rodolfo crossed his arms, not buying it. You don’t just not know your mom co-owned a pizzeria where four kids went missing.

Alex winced harder and rubbed the back of his neck. “I… Fuck. When I was 14, I had a really bad head injury. You can see the scars.” He got out his phone and turned on the flashlight, making Rodolfo realize he could only really see because of the streetlights outside. Alex held the flashlight up to his head, revealing what almost looked a puzzle of someone’s head who had been shattered. Fuck. “See?”

Even Soap was cringing beside him. “Anyway, I don’t remember much before… that. Apparently I had a whole other mom that I barely remembered. Fuck, I didn’t even remember that I was adopted. So… that’s how.”

Rodolfo felt kind of guilty, now. “Oh. Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. I understand how it could seem suspicious. But… I really don’t remember.” Alex sighed and then nudged his head in the direction of the kitchen, behind a buffet bar. “I’ll explain more after we look for food.”

“Fine.” Rodolfo nodded and Soap agreed, beside him. So, they both followed him behind the buffet bar and to the kitchen. Alex was using his flashlight to see, so Rodolfo used that to see as well, sticking close behind. This place… it kind of gave him the creeps. Though, it’d always had.

Alex got into the fridges in the back of the kitchen. “Bingo.” The fridge he’d opened lit up and revealed a few pizza boxes, which Alex opened and glanced through before pulling out the middle one. “Soap mentioned liking pepperoni.” He glanced back. “What about you, Rodolfo?”

“Pepperoni is fine.” Rodolfo nodded, not having a preference as long as there was no onion. Though, he was pretty sure the pizzeria only offered pepperoni, sausage, bacon, and cheese. The main focus was really on the games and the animatronics.

“Good.” Alex brought the box over and then he was pausing, going over to a nearby table. “Looks like one of the workers left a speaker.” He set the pizza box down and Soap tilted his head. “Oh, cool.” He fidgeted before something on the table was lighting up.

It looked like a little camping lantern, though it was fairly bright. Alex shrugged and put his phone in his back pocket before he picked up the little lantern and then he was guiding Rodolfo and Soap out to the restaurant, again, and they found a table.

It was too dark to do much else than make out the animatronics’ vague outline and… a drip of dread rolled down Rodolfo's spine, making his stomach clench. Maybe this was a mistake… well, he was this far along. He jumped and looked at Soap, hearing something rattle. He watched Soap, vaguely lit by the camping lantern, open a pill bottle and then take three of them.

Rodolfo hated the way his hands shook more, the way his mouth salivated, and he looked away, sitting down at the table and opening the box. The pizza wasn’t half bad, he’d admit. Even as a kid… it was pretty good. When Mateo became an animatronic, they rolled out this taco pizza and while it was definitely not Mexican food… it wasn’t too bad. In fact, both he and Alejandro had enjoyed it.

“So, your turn.” Soap spoke up, staring right at him. “You may look put together, but you’re… still here with us. Breaking into a pizzeria and stealing food.”

Rodolfo winced. “Yeah..” He admitted. “I was actually really high when I agreed to do this… It’s… a long story.”

“I’m willing to hear it.” Alex shrugged, sitting next to him and nudging him. “You know… since we’re here.”

Rodolfo blushed at his close proximity. He was only like this when withdrawing… Normally, boys weren’t even in his mind, but when he didn’t have drugs or alcohol… His mind looked for other destructive ways to cope. “I guess.” He nodded, since he knew the other two’s backstory already. Sort of. Well, he apparently didn’t know more than Alex and Soap… he felt bad about asking a cancer survivor why they liked a kids’ pizza place so much. The answer seemed kind of obvious.

Both of the others were staring at him and he found himself trying to shrink into his seat. But… he took a deep breath, ate a bit more pizza, and then he started. “My best friend loved this place when we were kids… His dad was really abusive and the owner of this place would let obviously troubled kids play games for free… And… it was a place to go to get away from the abuse, I guess. I actually outgrew it rather quickly. Then his dad died… And I guess it was a distraction…

He was really attached to Mateo, actually. Neither of us had any friends who spoke Spanish? So… and this was back before he was an animatronic. So… he really liked having something he could talk to that would respond back in Spanish… We were both second generation immigrants…” Rodolfo fidgeted with his fingers under the table, picking at the scabs he didn’t let heal around his nails. “On his fourteenth birthday… He wanted to have it here and I… we… fought? Over it. I just wanted to grow up… This place creeped me out and I… I was sick of being a little kid… So I didn’t go. He was one of the four kids that went missing.”

Rodolfo looked down, not wanting to see the other two’s faces. They must have thought he was horrible. God knows Rodolfo did. “I keep thinking… What if I had gone with him? What if I had just… got over myself and gone? Would he still be here? I don’t know.”

The other two were silent. That was fine… He was used to that reaction.

Finally, he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s stupid. But… I hoped that… maybe I could find out what happened if I came. Maybe… Maybe I’d find him, I don’t know.”

They were still silent and Rodolfo looked at them. Soap’s expression was almost shocked and Alex was looking away, staring down at his pizza. “You… You did it. You made a dude with cancer feel like his backstory wasn’t tragic enough. Congratulations, you are superior.”

Rodolfo snorted, “I feel like cancer-”

“No. I’m in remission.” Soap shook his head. “Damn. I just… the owner paid my hospital bills because I loved this place. I still have a card that lets me basically play for free. It never expires… I feel kind of bad breaking in but… Oh well. But… yeah. I went into remission last year.”

“Is that why you have that ridiculous haircut?” Rodolfo asked, again before he could stop himself, and gestured to the top of his head.

Soap laughed. “Yeah, so… When I had cancer… The only part of my hair that didn’t fall out completely from chemo was… that spot. So, I got it trimmed and kept it like a mohawk. Now… I let it grow crazy a little but… for the most part, I keep it like this. I know it looks ridiculous but… look at me. It’s pretty obvious I was sick… You guys should see my torso under this. It’s… pretty gross. Purple and gray… Surgery scars.. I had lung cancer.”

“Ah.” Rodolfo mumbled, now feeling really bad. Good job, asshole. “Sorry… It’s just…”

“It’s a bit much.” Soap shrugged. “I get it. Trust me. But… who’s gonna tell the kid with cancer that he’s ugly, huh?”

“That’s fair.” Alex finally spoke up, snorting softly. “We’re three peas in a pod, huh? We all have some tragic tie to this place.” He then sighed. “Odd that we found each other, but it makes sense. Who else would want to break in? Oh fuck-” He cursed, suddenly standing. “I left the camera in my car! Shit! Look, I’ll go get it, real quick. You two just stay here. Don’t eat all the pizza.”

“No promises.” Soap grinned and Rodolfo just mumbled that he wouldn’t. They both watched him fade into a vague silhouette, passing through the entrance door thingy and then going to the outside door. Then, he pushed on it and- the door didn’t open.

It was hard to see, but not hard enough that they couldn’t tell that the door didn’t open. Alex appeared to push a few more times before he was backing up and then coming back. “Fuck.” He muttered when he got back. “The doors won’t open.”

“Why not??” Rodolfo asked, another drip of dread rolling down his spine. “You unlocked them, right?” He shared a concerned glance with Soap.

“Well… it’s an old security measure, I’m pretty sure.” Alex winced. “The report I saw… said it was because of the kids that had gone missing. If the system thinks the store has been broken into… it locks down, completely, and won’t open without being unlocked from the outside. So, whoever got in, can’t get out without tripping the alarm somehow.”

“Fuck!” Soap groaned. “So, what? We’re trapped here until morning?”

Alex shook his head. “No. In Price’s office, there’s a place where we should be able to input a code. Then, we have sixty seconds to get out and lock the outside door. We’ll have to use the back door… So… there’s no point in doing it until we’re ready to go.”

Rodolfo was really starting to regret this. “I don’t know, is a picture worth this? Maybe we should just go.”

Soap shook his head. “No. I want that picture. If you two want to leave… fine. I will stay here all night, but I’m getting that picture. I’m… I am.”

Rodolfo stared at him, watching him glare down at the table. Then, he looked up at Alex. “I’m staying, too.” Alex mumbled. “I’ll get the code and let you out but… I’m not leaving. Price’s office should have the incident report about what happened to me. I need to know. I need to know why I can’t remember and my mom… won’t tell me. So, I’m staying.”

Rodolfo furrowed his brows and then he finally turned his head to the stage, where the outline of animatronics could be seen. Dread was steadily dripping down his back, and he would admit that he didn’t like this. But… well, he didn’t want to leave alone. And… he really wanted to find out what happened to his friend. “No. I’ll stay. But can we do this as fast as possible?”

“Yes.” Soap sounded relieved. “Yes, we can. Right, Alex?”

Alex immediately nodded. “Yes. Alright, let’s go up to the stage. I’ll use my phone to get that picture.” He picked up the camping lantern on the table and so Rodolfo and Soap both stood, following him up to the stage.

Rodolfo tried not to tremble as he followed them. That would be mortifying, though maybe he’d just blame it on withdrawal. He knew they had to have caught onto it by now… In fact, it had started to prickle at the sides of his face and he found himself scratching at them, trying to get the prickles to go away.

“They’re so fucking huge.” Soap said as they finally neared the stage.

Rodolfo felt small. The animatronics dwarfed him and that feeling was only made more extreme by the stage which was as tall as his waist. He shrank back, hugging himself. They creeped him out, really bad. He hated them.

Rodolfo jumped back with a yelp as the stage lit up in bright colors and then three spotlights turned on, lighting up the animatronics with stark white light. The lights around the stage were red, blue, and green, and there were stars on the wall behind them.

“Fuck,” Alex was holding his chest, but Soap was grinning. “I guess they don’t turn off the motion sensors at night. I guess they wouldn’t have to.”

“That’s fucking terrifying.” Rodolfo muttered, hugging himself again.

Luckily, the animatronics weren’t moving, just staying in their rest modes, which were perfectly plucked from Rodolfo’s memory. Ghost had a microphone which was raised above his head and said head was lifted to look almost like he was screaming into it. Mateo had a hand out, the other hand on his chest, and he looked to be about to belt out lyrics, his mouth open slightly. And Gaz was holding up a peace sign, bent over slightly, and winking.

The poses were so… human. But so stark. So uncanny.

Alex and Soap had started to talk about something. It sounded like what pose he wanted to stand in. Rodolfo didn’t particularly care about it, just tuning it out and going over to Mateo, having to cross behind them to do so.

He didn’t get too close to the stage, but he stood in front of Mateo, staring up at the animatronic. “¿Por qué eras tan especial?” He whispered. “¿Por qué te amaba tanto? ¿Valiste la pena?” Rodolfo didn’t think Mateo was worth it. He didn’t think that stupid fucking fox was worth losing his best friend.

His hands shook so hard it made his bones ache and he suddenly felt so cold, despite being aware of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Nausea traveled up his body and he closed his eyes, covering his mouth. He needed to keep his food down…

Finally, he opened his eyes, glancing over and seeing Soap and Alex were still talking. Soap was gesturing up to Ghost, and Alex was nodding along, his phone out. Rodolfo shook his head and turned back up to Mateo, looking over him again.

That fox had been in his nightmares, taunting him over and over and over. You let him go alone… He’d have come home… if you hadn’t let him go alone… But now you’re alone… Rudy’s all alone… Singing it over and over.

You let him go alone..

You let him go alone…

Rodolfo ran to a trash can, which was close by, thankfully, and threw up, hunching over it as he did so. He grasped the sides of the trash can, trying not to think of how slimy it felt, and panted. His whole body was shaking, and he just felt so cold…

“Hey, you okay?” Rodolfo lifted up, hearing Alex ask. He turned around, seeing Alex was staring at him. Even Soap looked concerned, though he wasn’t fully staring. Just looking.

Rodolfo nodded. “Yeah. Maybe cold pizza wasn’t the best idea.” He went back over to them, hugging himself again in an attempt to stay warm. “This place is kind of cold, huh?”

“Really? It feels hot to me.” Alex frowned, wiping his forehead. “They turn the AC off at night. It’s a shock the animatronics don’t fucking reek.”

Rodolfo frowned. Oh. He couldn’t feel it at all. Whatever. “So, are you going to get that picture?”

“Yeah, we’re just getting the staging right.” Soap nodded. “I don’t want to have to take too many.”

That was fair. Rodolfo hated having to take pictures over and over. He just let them go back to what they were doing, looking up at the stage, again, and looking over their poses, thinking how funny they were. Ghost was mid headbang, hunched over, Gaz was leaned back, appearing to be singing into his microphone, and Mateo had his microphone to his mouth, appearing to reach for the audience.

Such silly, simple poses. Again, so human, but so stark…

Rodolfo finally tore his eyes away and sighed, looking around the rest of the dining area. He paused upon seeing the large rabbit in the corner of the room. That thing just filled him with dread. It was horrid how large it was.

He’d also seen videos of it moving and it was… too human. It almost reached the ceiling when it stood, and it was based off a velveteen rabbit. Even still, the way it walked was identical to the way his own mother walked which… was supposed to be the point. It was meant to be motherly but it just made Rodolfo nauseous.

He didn’t even like the way it was sitting, slumped over like the actual stuffed animal might be.

The funny part was… He’d used to have a velveteen rabbit. It’d been gotten for his older sister, Liliana, but… she’d hated the thing. So, he’d taken over it, since they shared a room. He couldn’t remember what happened to it…

Rodolfo saw movement in the corner of his eye and quickly looked over, startling when he saw that Alex was helping Soap climb onto the stage. “Woah, woah, what are we doing? I don’t think you should be doing that-”

“Calm down.” Soap shook his head. “They’re deactivated, it’s fine.” He stood once he was up there, going close to Ghost. It made Rodolfo’s heart race, Soap shouldn’t be getting so close.

Soap settled so his back was against Ghost’s torso and Rodolfo tried not to beg him to get off the stage, shaking so hard his vision was getting blurry. He didn’t even think this was a good pose, since Ghost had his head back and you couldn’t even really see his face from that angle, especially with how big the animatronic was.

It dwarfed Soap entirely. Soap barely went mid torso for it.

It was too big.

You let him go alone.

Rodolfo squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths. “It’s way bigger up close.” Soap was saying.

Alex chuckled. “Yeah, they’re fucking massive. It’s frightening.”

Rodolfo hugged himself tightly in an effort to stop the shaking and forced his eyes to open, watching Alex move so he could get a good picture. “Throw a peace sign or something.”

Soap shrugged, doing as told, and then grinning. “Do I look good?”

“Hell yeah.” Alex nodded, also grinning.

Rodolfo felt like he couldn’t breathe, trying desperately hard to not throw up again. He wished they’d hurry the fuck up, desperately wanting Soap off that stage.

Movement out of the corner of his eye.

Rodolfo felt sweat mingle with the dread as it dripped down his back and he slowly turned to look. The velveteen rabbit was sitting up. “G-Guys…” He said, reaching for Alex and staring at the rabbit.

“Hang on, I’ve almost got the picture.” Alex said.

Rodolfo forced a breath into his lungs, continuing to stare at the velveteen rabbit. It was meant to look like Red Velvet cake, a joke. It even looked like it had piped cream cheese frosting on it’s head. A red velveteen rabbit.

But… now it only looked soaked in blood. The stage lights became too stark. They were shining in his eyes. He shielded his eyes from the light, blinking and trying hard to remember how to breathe. This was hell…

You let him go alone…

He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, relaxing when he saw the velveteen rabbit was slumped over again. He’d made it up. It wasn’t real. It was just his drug deprived brain tricking him.

He sucked in a harsh breath and then shook his head, turning back to Soap. “Did you finally get the picture?”

Soap was now hopping off the stage, still grinning. “Hell yeah.”

Alex held out his phone, showing Rodolfo. He didn’t like the way Ghost was staring at the camera. It felt uncomfortable. Rodolfo just shook his head, however, and sighed. “Awesome. Well… that’s one thing down.”

Soap nodded, and then suddenly tripped as he was climbing down, slamming his hands onto something on the stage.

It was very sudden. The animatronics started to move and ice spiked through Rodolfo’s blood, terrifying him. Even Soap seemed startled, all three of them backing up. “Oh fuck. I think I turned them on…” Soap winced. “Why would they put the on button there??”

“That is an odd spot.” Alex agreed.

“Hi kids.” Gaz was saying, staring right at them.

They had motion sensors, Rodolfo knew that, but it was still deeply unnerving. Ghost and Mateo were also staring at them… He cringed back. “Turn them off.”

Soap nor Alex did as told. They just kind of watched the animatronics. “I like them.” Soap grinned. “They feel… human.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” Rodolfo stepped forward to press the button again, to turn them off, before yelping and jerking back as Mateo was suddenly crouched and in his face.

“Hi! Remember me?!” Mateo almost appeared to be grinning and Rodolfo really didn’t like that. He tilted his head to the side and stared right into Rodolfo. His eyes were empty, they held no emotion. Just… massive balls of plastic.

“Remember him?” Rodolfo asked, backing back up to Alex and Soap. He swallowed before continuing, hugging himself. “That’s an odd voice line…”

“They can recognize past visitors.” Soap nodded. “Another security measure, apparently. They hoped that if they saw whoever… took those kids, that they might point them out. It also made them feel more real to the guests.”

Rodolfo bit the inside of his cheek, digging his nails into his sides through his sweater. “Gross.” He muttered. “I don’t like that…”

Alex frowned. “Wait, but have you been here since your friend went missing?”

Rodolfo paused. “No. No, I haven’t… I avoided this place completely. Wouldn’t even drive down this road…”

“Then… how would it recognize you?” Alex frowned. “Wasn’t that security measure implemented after the event?”

Rodolfo… realized Alex was right. Oh, no, he didn’t like that at all. Soap snorted. “Maybe it’s a racist robot. I mean… I know white people who can’t tell Hispanic people apart. White people programmed it… It could be racist.”

Rodolfo wasn’t sure he believed that but… what other explanation was there? “I guess.” He mumbled. “Whatever, let's just turn them off.” He moved forward to press the button again.

“Remember me?” Mateo asked again, his foot moving in front of the button. “I’m here. Remember me? It’s me. I’m here. Remember me?”

Rodolfo jerked back as Mateo reached for him, staring at the animatronic. It almost appeared to be stopping him from pressing the button. “No. I don’t remember you.” He moved over, reaching for the button again and then crying out as his arm was grabbed.

“Alex!” He cried and then Mateo’s arm was reaching around him, pulling him onto the stage. “Alex!”

“Remember me. Please remember me. It’s me. I’m here. Remember me.” Mateo was repeating and he pulled Rodolfo close to him, almost hurting him from the way he was hugging him. “Remember me.”

Rodolfo’s heart pounded in his chest and he kicked and shoved against Mateo. “Alex!” He screamed. Images of Mateo crushing his ribs ran through his mind, sending fear flooding through every vein in his body.

“Mateo… We don’t just grab children. You know the rules, put the poor boy down!” Another animatronic voice rang through the pizzeria and Rodolfo was suddenly released and then he was yanked off the stage.

Alex almost was hugging him close, pulling him back. “Are you okay??” He looked down at him.

Rodolfo didn’t answer, looking at the Velveteen Rabbit, who was now standing. It’s eyes glowed bright pink and it started towards them, almost striding. “Alex, the rabbit!”

“Guys-” Soap said and nudged them both, pointing to the stage where Mateo was now climbing down.

“Price’s office!” Alex immediately said. “There’s an emergency shut down in there! They also can’t go in it!” He quickly pulled them and all three rushed away, to the back.

“No! Don’t run!” Mateo called after them. “Remember me! I’m here! I’m here!”

Rodolfo could hear his footsteps after them, loud and clanky, and Alex suddenly was dragging him harder. They ran down a short hallway and then Rodolfo was shoved into a doorway, tripping and hitting the floor. Soap hit the ground beside them and then Alex was slamming the door.

Mateo stopped just outside the doorway, staring into the window, and Rodolfo panted, staring up at him. “I’m here… Remember me. I’m here.”

Alex backed away after locking the door and all three stared at the door. The shadow of the Velveteen Rabbit suddenly crossed over what little light was coming through the doorway from the lights of the stage.

��Fuck…” Soap panted. “What do we do now?”

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

#remember me cod au #rodolfo parra #alex keller #johnny soap mactavish #five nights at freddy's au #kyle gaz garrick #john price #simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas #captain john price #soap cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii

78 notes · View notes