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dog-and-cat-care-training · 9 months ago

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padfootdaredmetoo · 4 years ago

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Hi!! I was wondering if maybe you could write a Wade x plus size reader? Maybe she’s an ex pro thief and gets put with him for a mission or smth?? I got no idea man just have fun with it aye

Thank you for the request!!!!! Sorry for the wait!

I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be dirty or not so I sectioned that part off in case it's not what you're looking for :)

You are my first ever request! So, thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it <3

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Thieving, being exceptionally attractive while doing it. Wade on his best behaviour, Smut is sectioned off.

You haven't accepted a mission in 4 years.

You got out of the business and left those “friends” and “friend circles” behind you after you scored your dream internship. 4 years and you were running your own team and writing a semi successful blog. It was a quiet life, and you enjoyed it immensely. You liked your team members, and you felt they found you a fair and caring boss. Your cat Mr. Sparkles was a healthy weight and had finally committed to using the litter box.

You don't know why you answered when he called you, you don’t know why you agreed to such fuckery. But here you were pulling out a familiar black box out of the bottom of your cluttered closet. You picked it up and placed it on your bed. The dark colour contrasted with your bright and colourful décor. Something you found oddly reflective, once you moved on from that part of your life nothing was dark. Everything in your apartment was covered by color and patterns that made you happy.

You opened the box. You and Mr. Sparkles looked at the contents like there was a wild octopus about to come flying out of it.

“It was the right thing to do.” You said out loud. “And it's going to pay well.”

Pulling the tight outfit over your curves felt better than you thought it would. You figured that it would cause you panic or anxiety. Instead you felt a wave of confidence looking yourself over in the mirror that hung on the back of your bedroom door. Normally you were covered in bright flowy clothes, that's what you liked. Your whole life was built upon being invisible since you were little. Now that you were in charge every day was a celebration in its own way. However this made you feel sexy, the outfit was sleek and left nothing to the imagination. Pulling your long hair into a tight french braid you were ready to get out there and do some thieving.

You kissed Mr. Sparkles and gave your aloe vera plant a light touch on your way out the window. It was a hot summer night and the air was muggy. These were your favorite kinds of nights to sit out on the fire escape, have some drinks, read books, and watch the city. It was lonely, but enjoyable nonetheless.

You got up to the roof and plotted your course to the impossible house. You misstepped a couple of times before falling into your usual rhythm. You contemplated whether you were doing this because the small piece of art should be with the family it belongs too. Or if you were doing this because you had some kind of Ocean’s 11 complex that kept you hungry for such challenges. It was an impossible place to break into, the floor of the old house containing the art work was covered with laser security. A piece of knowledge that should make your stomach flip, but only makes your heart feel funny.

You got yourself into position on the roof of the low building that was across the street, you took a few minutes to survey and eventually came to the conclusion that conditions were perfect. You made your way to the 3rd floor balcony. You knew of the owner’s, an awfully cruel man and his lover. They were asleep on the 5th floor of the house. Well, city mansion? Whatever, the point is it didn't feel like a home, it felt like something a royal family would keep when they came to visit. Lots of expensive art and velvet curtains. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings framed with fancy crown molding. You did your research in the few hours you had after the job request had come in, there was a - *insert super fancy techno security laser system name here.* And it was said to be unbeatable. No gymnast or other cat-like thief had been able to tango with it. You had been challenged by its precursors but had got out of the game by the time this puppy had made it out on the market.

You picked the lock on the double doors, and slid past the heavy curtains and disabled the basic alarm system for the floor. Surveying the area you saw the lasers slowly dancing like it was a Pink Floyd tribute at the local planetarium. (something you attend regularly) You took a deep breath and got ready to disco your way across the floor to the small framed painting of a sun set. You put a headphone in and set the song *put on a song you would rob a bank to*. You began the journey. People often felt that your size and shape made you incompetent or ungraceful. You learned early on in life not to listen to stupid people say stupid things. You were the best, perhaps because you weren't afraid to look stupid or ridiculous. You bended and snapped, ducked and dodged, twirled and flipped. And just like that you reached your target. The second you lifted it off the wall, the lasers stopped. You pulled your knife and twirled around ready for a fight. What you saw was not what you expected, across the room none other than Wade freaking Wilson was looking at you.. Normally you hated being stared at like that, but he was a “friend” you found particularly challenging to leave behind. The whites of his mask were wide. After making a whole bunch of strange gestures with his hands, he held up a finger motioning you to be quiet. He disappeared towards what you figured would be the staircase going up to the next floor. If he gave you a clear shot at an exit you knew he had trouble with him. So you took your out.

You got back up on the rooftop across the street, you grabbed the bag you left there and secured the painting. You pulled out a large black piece of cotton and tossed it around your shoulders like a shall. This made your outfit look less stealth and more passion for leather/night out on the town. Making your way down the fire escape on the side of the building you saw the target house explode.

I guess Wade hasn't changed any.

You picked up the pace feeling anxious to get to Sister Margrets. Making your way through the city unnoticed, you went into the shitty establishment through the alleyway door. You wasted no time moving through the hallway into the servers entrance spitting you out behind the bar. You kept by the entrance which kept you out of sight, you didn't want to see any more friends tonight. Weasel jumped when he turned around and saw you there looming in the shadows, spilling the drink he had just made.

“Fuck” He quickly remade the drink then moved back to where you were standing. He had a large envelope of cash for which you handed him the back pack. You felt slightly relieved.

“Hey I know you moved on, but thanks for this.”

“No problem”

You turned around and went out the way you came in. Opening the door that leads back to the alley way, you notice a very large and slightly singed body blocking your exit.

“Stay for a drink?” His voice caused something in you to stir. Something you were not going to explore.

“Sorry Wade but no can do” You pushed past him and began walking down the street.

“Pretty pleaseeeee” he said with a sing song voice. You tried not to smile. He caught up to you so he was walking beside you. “If your not a big drinker anymore we could go for diner, tacos!, Sushi, chicken nuggets, you always loved a good chicken nugget” You tuned him out as he kept chattering a list of every food he could remember eating together. You had to figure out somewhere to go as you weren't leading him back to your apartment. Going in random directions, he spoke up.

“I know you live on *Insert cute street name here*”

“What the fuck Wilson?”

“Well you disappeared and I wanted to make sure you weren't being unalived. This means if we head back to yours we can do take out and homemade drinks, which in my opinion is much better anyway. I make the best margaritas in the city.”

You started the walk back towards your apartment. Trying desperately to come up with a way to leave him at the front of the building. The thought of him in your very personal, very colourful, even bordering on childish apartment made you unbelievably anxious. Every time you looked over at his slightly charred body you couldn't help a strange feeling welling up inside you. You got to the front door to the building and turned to look up at him. There was a long pause as you struggled for words.

“It's alright. It was a nice walk.” You could hear the layers of sadness underneath his tone. You were going to tell him that it was a nice walk and that maybe one day when things were better for you they could get that drink. Then you were going to threaten him into keeping everything a secret.

“I don't have stuff for margaritas.” The wrong words left your mouth but for a fleeting moment you actually didn't want him to leave.

“Are you sure?” Hey sounded very serious which caught you off guard and confused you a little.

“Yeah, normally I just drink stuff out of a can” You were terrible at mixing drinks, they were always way too sweet and strong and lead to trouble. Wade gave a big laugh. “Are you okay to pick up the stuff if I get changed?”

“You betcha.” He did a twirl, blew you a kiss, then headed down the street.

You dashed up to your apartment and started to hide your more personal stuff. Grabbing an armful of clean laundry off the couch, tossing it into an empty bin in the closet. You were so busy trying to hide your stuffed animals and random fan art, that you didn't notice him standing in the fire escape landing looking at you from the large open window.

“Damn. This was not what I was expecting.” He said, sounding surprised. “This isn't what your old place looked like at all”

“Uh” Your face got hot and you refused to look at him. “I ah don't have people over so um yeah. You can go now.”

“Nonononononono. This is a huge bit of progress from everything being varying shades of grey and uncomfortable.” Wade took the place in as he made his way to your kitchen. Placing the big brown bags on the counter top, and sliding the blender out from against the bright backsplash.

"Uh I'm going to get cleaned up. Help yourself to everything." You ran into the bathroom and freshened up and were very grateful to be out of the leather and into your summer pj's. They were more on the revealing side but you never found Wade the type to care or be creepy.

Coming out you found him very comfortable whirling around the kitchen. It looked like he had made a giant frying pan of pad thai and the blender was full. Turning around to see you he picked you up and sat you on the counter top like you were nothing more than a bottle of the many sauces he currently had out. He handed you one of your favorite rainbow glasses filled with margarita. Your brain was still trying to calm down from him picking you up like that.

"Thanks" you said with an even redder face.

"No problem, hot stuff" he divided the food into two plates, you led him out to sit on the fire escape with you. It was a sacred space, it felt weird to be there with a real live person. After the most delicious plate of food ever, many drinks, and laughs about the good old days things quieted down leaving a thick tension between the two of you. You realized you owed him an apology of sorts.

"Wade, I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper goodbye. I just had a life of running and I couldn't risk anyone fucking me over again."

"It's alright babe. I understand why you did it." His voice was low and sad and it made your heart hurt. You didn't want the night to end.

"Thanks for keeping my place here a secret."

"No problem. Do you think mayyybe now that I know about your situation we could do this again sometime?"

"You have no idea how nice that would be." You really meant it having him around was the most fun you'd had in a very long time. You didn't have to pretend or beat around the bush about anything with Wade. Nothing was too dark or silly or messed up.

"Well I guess this is my cue." He made to stand up but you grabbed his knee without thinking.

"Uh if you want to. You could also stay for a while." He turned his head to the side, bright eyes looking you over. "You could take a shower and I've definitely got a shirt and some boxers I could lend you." His eyes got wider. "They're mine. They're really…. comfy…" you would never understand how he made you so embarrassed.

"Uh, not sure about that… it just…" he motioned to the rest of his body.

"I've seen your face. It won't bother me" you looked up at him with empathetic eyes, part of you hoping that maybe they came across as bedroom eyes. You gave yourself a mental slap.

"If you're uncomfortable, that's okay too." You said, giving him a kind smile. You could tell there was an internal battle. So you gave him a minute.

"Alright that sounds nice. It's a fucking mess under here tho."

You went into your bathroom and found your gentlest scent free soap and a soft towel. Then into your room to find a giant t-shirt and your biggest pair of boxer shorts.

You put it into a nice pile in the bathroom.

"Okay there's some nice soap, it's natural scent free, made of angel's tears or some shit and a clean towel and clothes in there for you."

Wade shifted around you into the bathroom. "Thanks"

You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your glow star collection that littered the ceiling. You heard the water start running and you closed your eyes. Until your herd some very loud and off key Britney Spears. You couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough he was out and flopped onto the bed next to you.

"Man this is the best sleepover ever."

"If this has been your best sleepover with a chick I feel sorry for you. And her." You joked.

"Sorry enough for a pity cuddle." You know what the look he gave you meant. He was testing the waters to see what kind of night this was gonna be. You couldn't help but feel the need to challenge it.

"We could cuddle… or we could do other stuff then cuddle." You'd thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. But voices weren't loud enough over the sound of your heart beating. He leaned in closer, fingers brushing your cheek.

"You sure that's not a margaritas talking?"

"Very sure." You said eyes locked with his.

"Why now?" It was a good question. One you had to think about.

"I don't think I ever was really myself. Like I was as much of myself as I could be while hurting that much. Now I'm happy and I enjoy things differently"

"Hmmm I noticed that. I think I got to know you more in the past few hours than I had when we were friends. You actually laugh now. At jokes and not just crazy like when things are exploding" he moved his hand to run through your hair and you couldn't hold back a soft moan. It had been so very long since someone had touched you.

You felt his lips press into your forehead. You'd thought about Wade before but he was in a relationship, then she died, and Wade wasn't himself for a long time. You'd figured if you were something he wanted he'd make it clear considering the dude flirted with everyone. You'd always had a secret fear that maybe you went his type. Vanessa was short and very tiny, other than her you were only sure of one other and that was Cable, who was serious, fit, tall, and massive. You were a good height and curvy as all hell. Suddenly you felt self conscious. But then he put his hands on either side of your face tilting your head up to meet his. You opened your eyes and they focused in on his lips. They were so close it caused the air in your lungs to get stuck.

"You're pretty quiet. You sure you wanna try to do other things. We can jump right to cuddling if that's better for right now?"

You looked up to meet his eyes.

"Is that what you want?" You tried your best to have it come out casually.

"Not really."

Your eyes migrated back down to his lips and you shuffled closer. You wanted to kiss him so badly you felt like your body was on fire.

"You can take whatever you want baby"

******************PSA: Dirty stuff below ;)*********************

That's all the permission you needed. You moved in and softly pressed your lips into his, then took things deeper. It didn’t take much for your breathing to become ragged, you were trying desperately to take the kiss further.

Eventually you bit his bottom lip and whimpered, finally he agreed, his hands tightened on your face and your tongues started to battle it out. You wanted to win, so you moved to straddle him. Finally accomplishing some friction between the two of you, you could feel your panties sliding against your wet folds. This only lasted for a few glorious seconds, before he flipped you on to your back quickly moving to pin your arms above your head.

He started moving south leaving a red hot trail of destruction behind him. There was only so much your tank top would allow, Wade seemed very content palming your right breast while biting on the flesh beneath your left collar bone. You on the other hand wanted your goddamn clothes off.

You tried to break his grip and moaned when you realized such a task would only be accomplished by hurting him. He really had you trapped there, a piece of knowledge that only made you want your clothes off more. His grip on your breast tightened and his smirking lips took a long pull on the hardened nub that was poking up benthe the cotton of your top. You couldn't help your back arching. Finally, after paying respects to your other breast, he pulled back to look at you. He squeezed your wrists.

“Stay”

God he was so bossy. Something that divided you internally. A part of you wanted to push it, see how hard he would dig into you, and the other part was desperate to behave and be good. You decided you would be good, for now. He sat up, leaning back on his knees in between your legs. Slowly his fingers brushed across the soft skin of your stomach, then his hands ran up along your torso taking your shirt with them. Feeling his scarred hands trail lightly across you sent shivers through your body. You felt him cup and knead your breasts for a moment before pulling your top over your head. He took a long look at you which made you feel delicious. No one had ever pulled out this side of you before. Kissing down your stomach he stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He took your left leg and used it to flip you over, somehow taking your shorts off at the same time. There you were ass up naked and loving every second of it. His big hands came down to smack your ass, a loud noise of please ran out of your mouth along with most of the air in your lungs. Enjoying the response he did it again then started kneading the flesh.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy.” You felt his hands slide down to grip the tops of your thighs. You arched your back further resting your head on the bed. “Good girl.” The words hit you like a bullet but before you had time to find your footing his hot mouth was all over you wet folds.

His skilled tongue painting some kind of masterpiece, he was touching you everywhere but where you really desperately wanted it. But this seemed to be the way he operated, and you weren't complaining. After feeling like he had been everywhere, he started to circle that tight ball of nerves and you couldn't help but let out a shout. Pleasure was ripping through your body, things were starting to get hot and tight inside you, when all of a sudden those glorious lips closed in and created some heavenly suction. You couldn't stop your hips from bucking, this earned a heavy slap on your right ass cheek.

“Fuck fuck fuckf cukkkk ah” It quickly became too much, your orgasm hit you like a train, whole body tensing up then finally crashing down. Wade kept up the rhythm letting you ride it out. Finally pulling away when it became too much. He snaked his arm up your front to grab the front of your neck pulling you up on to your knees, angling your face so he could kiss you deeply. Putting on a show of how good you tasted. After a long moment of heated kissing, he positioned you so you were laying on your back again. Giving you a few moments to catch your breath.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked softly.

“Yes please.” you answered politely.

“Alright but, it's everywhere. All over me. So doggy style is generally best for this next part. If you wanna do it that way, I'm also just happy making you scream like this too.”

“Wade, we can stop if you need to. But I would much rather you fuck me like this. Or let me choke on you for a while then fuck me like this. On my back where I can kiss you and love you back. Ya feel me?”

He looked at you with searching eyes. You realized what you said probably sounded a bit off. Love you back probably wasn't the right thing to say, but you were operating with limited brain function at this point.

“This normally doesn't end well for me.”

“Hmmm. What part, how do you like to uh finish?” You asked slightly confused. Wade only laughed.

“That's not the problem, I almost got off just from you screaming like that. No, I just want to make sure you actually enjoy it. It's hard to enjoy things when you are looking up at someone who looks like they lost a fight with an industrial paper shredder that happened to be on fire.”

You snorted.

“Wade I never knew you before, but I’ve wanted you since I met you. Okay? There's no spooky feelings here.” Your words seemed enough to convince him. He leaned in for a soft kiss, one that made you want to misbehave. You pulled the shirt up, running your hands across the well defined muscles of his torso, then broke the kiss to pull it up over his head. You didn't give him a chance to be chatty, you resumed the heavy kiss, palming his erection. He moaned into your mouth. Feeling accomplished, you pulled the boxers off letting his heavy cock slap up against his stomach. You couldn't help but break the kiss, looking down you watched your hand slide over his impressive, throbbing length. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but before you could push him back onto the bed, he was already pinning you in place beneath him.

You felt him slide himself through your heat. Finally lining himself up with your entrance, his thumb set a steady pace on your clit as he pushed into you slowly. You were grateful he took his time opening you up. You let out a strangled sound when he bottomed out, you felt so full. He set a slow pace giving you lots of time to adjust, this only made you more desperate and needy. When he finally decided you’d had enough, you felt his hand squeeze the back of your neck as he set into a ruthless pace.

“FUCK” He was too much, his heavy body keeping you in place as your hips rose to meet every single thrust. you wanted to feel him as deeply as you possibly could. His hot mouth was biting into the flesh at the bottom of your neck. The heat inside you started to build and you were near your breaking point.

‘Wade” You breathed in a high, desperate tone.

“Cum for me baby” And just like that you felt it take over, your hips snapped up and your feet cramped up. You could feel your walls clench around him tightly, and you choked when he pushed through them even rougher than before. That thumb on your clit never gave up, keeping you trapped riding out the waves of pleasure. You felt it take him over, letting out a deep growl you felt him fill you. He held himself deep inside you, moving both his hands so his forearms were on either side of you trying to keep his weight from crushing you.

His forehead pressed against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually he moved out of you and he flopped onto his back. You got up and quickly went pee and cleaned yourself up. You grabbed another washcloth and went back to clean him up. You realised that getting up might have been a mistake. Wade was on his side with his eyes screwed shut.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked softly and grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his forehead.

“Better now.” He whispered.

“Sorry for getting up, I should have said something. Can I clean you up?” He gave you a strange look, like he was waiting for you to suddenly disappear. He took the washcloth and wiped himself down, you took it back throwing it into the bathroom. You looked down at him hoping that the voices weren't giving him a hard time. You sat next to him holding his hand, giving him some time.

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

“So about those cuddles?” He asked softly, and you wondered how many times people had hurt him or thrown him out.

You got under the light quilt on your bed motioning for him to do the same. He followed you, laying on his back, you tucked yourself into his side, enjoying his big arms wrapping around you. You gave his neck a light kiss.

“I missed you.” you said softly

“You have no idea how bad I missed being around you.”

“I won't leave again, if you wanted to make this either a regular thing… or a proper thing… if you're into that?” You felt a tight ball of nerves in your stomach.

“I’d really like that.” He kissed your forehead. You thought about all the things you would have to do to make this relationship compatible with your new life. But that was a later you problem, right now you were the best kind of exhausted. You both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you again for the request!!!! <3

#Request #Wade Wilson X Reader #Wade Wilson X femreader #Deadpool #Wade Wilson #XReader

147 notes · View notes

mandoinevarro · 5 years ago

Text

NO REFUNDS

Words: 5.1k :))

Rating: E, baby

Warnings: Smut (surprise surprise), bad words :0, masturbation, a biiiit of praise kink, face fucking, cumplay? let me know on the comments, etc. etc.

a/n: Happy Star Wars day!! The first few lines of this are an attempt at dumb comedy, but humor me a little and you’ll get a reward (smut) along the yellow-brick road

Finally, the lanky kid behind the counter stops air drumming with two chicken bones gnawed dry and trails his dopey eyes from the gloved fist on the table, up a bracer, and along a flexed arm, until they settle on the Mandalorian helmet staring him down and waiting for an answer. The employee removes the music bandeau from around his ears and settles it down, its noise so loud Mando can hear it from where it lays. The kid scratches the whiskers of facial hair growing patchy on his cheeks and thoughtfully nibbles on one of the bones, trying to figure out what one does when a client shows up.

“Uh, what?”

“I need to speak to the owner,” the Mandalorian repeats slowly.

“Oh, uh.” Mouth gaping like a fish too stupid to know it should fear hooks, the kid calmly turns his attention to the four walls of the hardware store, searching for guidance in the fluorescent signs hanging around the room and dictating the store’s rules like they’re ancient scriptures:

NO CHILDREN

WILL BUY STOLEN GOODS FOR LOWER PRICE

NO IMPS

NO REPUBLIC OFFICIALS

NO REFUNDS

NO APPOINTMENT, NO MEETING

“You, uh,” the kid continues, lingering on that last stanza and flicking open a dusty agenda that probably hasn’t been touched since the war ended, “you got an appointment, uh, sir?” He drags a greasy finger down the planner, squinting at nothing and pretending to read the page that Mando can clearly see is empty.

The bounty hunter sighs, holding on to the last reserves of patience that hang precariously on the cliff of his self-restraint, threatening to let go and leave him to his own anger. “No. But she’ll see me.” You better. You better fucking see him. “I was sold equipment here a few days ago, some of it faulty. I need to speak to her.”

The navigator. The fucking navigator. Of all the bunch of overpriced, black market scraps you’d somehow convinced the Mandalorian to buy from you last time, it just had to be the navigator. He still has his old blasters. Pumps are cheap. Even the deflector shields he could’ve done without for a couple of months. But the fucking navigator. The lack of droids on the Crest means that Mando relies solely on the navigator to set coordinates. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of a system, let alone make hyperjumps. Even worse, the model is so old, its glitching isn’t recognized by the control panel, so he had to hover around the atmosphere of this damned planet for three days before figuring out what it was, throwing off his schedule and losing track of two bounties in the process. All because you sold him a damaged version of the one part he can’t do without.

But your gaping-mouthed kid worker seems too unused to visitors to really care about Mando’s request, too entertained nibbling on a bare bone and eyeing the costumer in front of him as a knowing smirk cracks his lips and he says, “I dig it.”

“You…you ‘dig it’? I don’t…”

“The whole, y’know.” He draws circles in the air with the bone, signaling the beskar armor while he wipes the sauce around his mouth with a sleeve. “The, uh, Mondolarian vibe you’ve got going on. Very retro, dude. I dig it.”

Mondo…? Bewilderment overshadows irritation for a second, and Mando focuses all his energy into searching the kid’s vacant eyes for a sign of intelligent life. “I…I am a Mandalorian.”

Fucking stars above, it’s never easy with you. If not your endless teasing, it’s the exorbitant prices, your unwillingness to compromise, or your scurrying around so he’s forced to play cat and mouse with you. Your latest impossible challenge for him to tackle is, apparently, getting a straight answer from the obtuse employee you must have handpicked from a catalogue of idiots to torture Mando. Maker, he’s surprised your store hasn’t gone bankrupt yet. He can’t imagine anyone else in the galaxy putting up with your whims. And he only does it because…well, because…

After dedicating a couple of seconds to crafting the perfect response for what appears to be his very first client, the kid muses, “Well, shit, what do I know.” He flashes a toothy smile as he rereads the dogmas on the walls. “Says nothing about Mondolarians here, but, uh—”

“—Look,” Mando bargains with your gatekeeper, trying to level the exasperation escaping the vocoder, “I only have one faulty part. Let me talk to the owner, and—”

“—Shit. I bet it was the microvalves.” Your staff of one hangs his tuff of hair in shame, swaying it limply from side to side, before staring straight at the visor apologetically. “My bad, dude, I’ve been trying to get them right, but I always fuck them up. It’s hard, y’know? Red with red, white with white. Why not red with white? Or—”

“—No. What? No. Listen to me. You sold me a busted—”

“—I sold you?” the kid scoffs, his eyes suddenly snapping wide and offended, ignoring Mando’s clenching fists, which usually make normal people cower. “Excuse me, mister Mondolarian sir, but I don’t, uh, don’t recall selling you shit, in fact—”

“—Not—not you personally, the store, look, just—”

“—in fact, I’ve never even met a Mondolarian before and you’ve, uh, no right—no right— to judge my microvalves that I worked hard on—”

“Let him in.” Your voice carries its usual amusement as it cuts between the Mandalorian and the kid, breaking off the bickering from both ends and drawing their attention to the melody’s source. You lean on the doorframe leading to your workshop, holding a pair of pliers in one hand and a wrench in the other. Grease is smeared on your face, where teeth bite down on a playful smirk and the twinkle in your eyes speaks of terrible intentions—like always. You tilt your head back to the room behind you. “C’mon, Mando. Let my receptionist work.”

With a sigh, the hunter moves towards the separate room, not before glancing back at the receptionist, who throws him one last disapproving look and wraps the bandeau that never stopped blasting music around his ears.

“Why do you keep him here?” the Mandalorian grunts as you push yourself off the doorframe to move inside your studio.

You shrug. “It’s him or droids.”

Mando trails after you inside the cramped workshop, filled to the brim with piles and piles of sensors and motors and all the other scraps from dubious origins you collect, fix, and resell. He closes the door behind him and pushes a large tube hanging from the roof to the side to walk closer to you.

Facing him, you plummet on your wheeled chair with a sigh, your arms dangling off the armrests, still holding the wrench and the pliers, like you’re the monarch of your little kingdom of junk granting him an audience.

There, Mando finally gets a good look at you, and—much to his annoyance—you’re as lovely as always. Glistening and greasy, you’re still beautiful with oil stains on your skin and fat droplets of sweat trailing your temple. You beam at him from your squeaky throne with that faint grin that attracts nothing but trouble. Maker, no wonder you always manage to talk circles around him. But not this time. This time he won’t fall for your little games. He won’t, he won’t, he won’t. Tonight he’s walking out of here with all of his money, no matter how much you bat your pretty eyelashes at him.

The Mandalorian squares his stance and straightens his back in a futile attempt to intimidate you, strutting ahead firmly and pointing an accusing finger at your face.

“You sold me a—”

“—a busted navigator.” You roll your eyes and push yourself to your legs abruptly before the hunter can get any closer. He stops dead on his tracks. You wave the wrench and the pliers in the air like the conductor of an orchestra. “I sold you a busted navigator.” The vowels are dragged out with an exaggerated tune to make fun of him. “Yeah, I heard you the first four thousand times, Mando.”

Without looking, you drop the pliers to the side. They land dead center on an open storage box. Perfectly. Almost rehearsed. Something clicks. The Mandalorian suddenly finds the missing piece of a puzzle he didn’t know needed solving, and he feels his shoulders deflate and release some of the anger that drove him to your store in the first place.

You peacock closer to him, one foot in front of the other and swaying your hips as you look down to the wrench in your hand. “But, you should know by now,” you murmur once you find yourself only inches away from the beskar, your voice morphing its earlier mock exasperation into the tone you only use whenever you two aren’t talking business. You look up at him, failing miserably at masking the mischief in your eyes. “I don’t do refunds.” You lift the wrench and grin as it taps the beskar breastplate lightly with a tink.

And before you can blink, Mando’s hand flies to your wrist to clutch it roughly, squeezing without hurting you, but with enough strength to force your fist open. Just like he knows you like it. The wrench falls to the floor with a bang that makes you jump. It’s Mando’s turn to smile when he pulls you by the wrist to press you closer against him. The cocky glint in your eyes dulls into confusion.

“I never said it was the navigator,” he informs you lowly.

You tense under his grasp and shift your jaw. “You knew I’d come back,” he continues, encouraged by your grimace. Staring at your feet, you half-heartedly try to wriggle away from his grasp, but he grabs your other wrist instead and holds you flush against the cold beskar. “Okay. I’m back. Now give me my money.”

But his satisfaction is short-lived, because if there’s anyone in the universe who knows no shame, that’s you. So you simply bite your lower lip and move your head from side to side to shake hair and embarrassment off your face. When you look up at the visor again it’s with that brazen insolence that secretly gets the Mandalorian going like nothing else in the galaxy.

“A girl gets lonely in here,” you purr. Your wrists relax, and make no attempt to pull away. “Can you blame me for wanting you back a little earlier?” Your plush lips curl into the perverse smile of someone who’s holding all the cards, making heat rush involuntarily to his crotch. And it drives him fucking insane. He could have you tied, shackled, or bent over, and you would still sneer at him like you had him wrapped around your finger.

At his silence, you wedge a leg tightly between his thighs and massage it against the bulge between. Your gasp in fake surprise when his length hardens at the first hint of a brush, too unused to any sort of physical contact to remain neutral to your bold caresses. He bites down hard on his lip to suppress a moan. He won’t give you the satisfaction.

Mando’s learnt, though, that his restraint only feeds your audacity. Only makes you taunt him more. His lack of response spurs you on, and you crane your neck forward to lick a slow line along the beskar of the chest. You blink at him playfully as you go, stuffing your tongue back into your mouth once you reach the top edge of the breastplate.

You must find it funny. How his ribs expand and contract in anticipation. How he tends to roll and unroll his fists in an attempt to suppress the instinct to throw you on top of the table so crowded by clutter that he can barely see the surface beneath and fuck the smirks off your face. How he always gives in. How he stiffens both scandalized and impossibly aroused every time you introduce him to some newer, filthier act. You must think it’s so fucking funny.

And as much as the bounty hunter wants to shove you back against your crumbling wheeled chair, he knows you’ll only enjoy it more. So he simply lets go of your wrists and steps back.

“I’m only here for my money,” he lies.

The vicious grin grows wider. “Oh, so you’re making me work for it tonight.” You step back and lean against a table with your arms crossed over your chest, purposefully pushing your tits against the cleavage. Mando shifts in his place. Licking your lips until they glisten, you give him a once-over. You study him inch by inch, and an uncomfortable rope knots in his stomach when he realizes that this is how his bounties must feel when he watches them wordlessly.

Your eyes settle on his visor, and a decision seems to cross them as you walk over to sit on your creaking chair. “Or maybe you just want to hear me beg.” You part your legs wide and clutch the armrest with one hand while the other disappears under the waist of your pants. The contour of your hand shifts up and down slowly inside the crotch of your trousers, and your lips crook into a full O as they release a deep, foul moan. “Is that it?” Your eyes are glossy and malignant, trained on his visor. “You want me to beg for your cock?”

His leather gloves ball into fists, trying to coax blood into his head and away from his…well, his other head.

Yet you hold him in place with that sinful stare and the lewd whimpers that you know get him off, and yes, fuck yes, he wants to hear you beg and sob for him all night as much as he wants to clog your throat with his shaft and make you swallow your teasing.

But he can’t let you win. You can’t scam five thousand credits out of him and expect him to throw himself into your arms no questions asked. He wants to put an end to your little tyrannical rule on his cock. And he wants his fucking money back.

So the powerful Mandalorian watches helplessly as your hand quickens under your clothing and you throw your head back in ecstasy. That fucking smirk doesn’t leave you, though. Even less so when your palm picks up some speed and you hear his breath hitch involuntarily at the visual, loud enough to override the vocoder.

“C-come on, Mando, don’t—” Your hand sinks deeper into your pants and you hum at the adjustment. “Don’t you wanna teach me what—what proper cos-costumer service looks like? Huh?”

His cock jumps in his pants when you say his name in a wanton gasp, and Mando can see you’re sweating and moving your hips faster against your palm. He’s so hard it hurts.

Your smile falters and you frown impatiently as the pent-up tension threatens to snap in your body.

“Don’t cum,” Mando blurts before he can stop himself.

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t give you what you want.”

Your movements halt on command, and the hunter almost envies the control you have over your own body to be able to backtrack on the very edge of your release. You hold your hands up in triumphant surrender as you watch the Mandalorian approach and stop just a breath away from your body. He stands tall before you, crowding you with his size and turning down the volume on the nagging voice that reminds him that he’s letting you win.

Eyes on the prize ahead of you, you lick your lips and snake a hand beneath your sit. You pull a lever and the chair plummets a few inches until your mouth is directly in front of the rigid tent growing in his pants. Expert fingers undo his belt and lower his fly, but, stars, nothing is fast enough when Mando already feels the veins of his cock growing thicker and thicker. Skipping all formalities, your hand sneaks inside, cups his balls, and pulls all of him outside. He groans when you grab his shaft and squeeze hard from base to tip, your bare palm catching awkwardly on his equally dry skin. Mando melts into the sensation all the same, but you seem displeased with your palm’s lack of fluidity.

“Fuck. Hold on.” A pair of fingers disappear into your mouth and down your throat as far as they’ll go. You choke on them dramatically and your eyes water slightly, but they shine when the two small intruders drag outside your mouth, pulling a thick string of elastic spit with them and dropping it on his shaft, pulsing with anticipation. You lean forward and look up through your lashes as you unroll your tongue slowly and more gooey saliva dangles from it. It’s too dense to spill onto its target, so you pluck the heavy ropes from your mouth and smear it manually on his cock, while a thread of it hangs on your chin.

“Fuck.” Your tiny clenched fist wakes up every nerve in his body as it drags up and down his shaft, obscene and perfectly lubricated. Mando’s hips buck into its grasp involuntarily, so suddenly that you flinch at the unexpected jolt. It’s a small comfort for him, to see that he can also surprise you. But then you’re giggling again, locking him in place by grabbing the buck of his belt with your free hand.

“Eager,” you remark. You lean forward and place a chaste kiss on the tip that digs into his spine. Maker, it was barely anything, but he’s so hard and your mouth is so close. “Aren’t Mandalorians,” you tease, “supposed to have self-restraint?”

Mando’s only answer is a low groan and a gloved hand that tangles on your hair and pushes you forward. You resist, though, instead wrapping a fist around his base and dragging your hot tongue up his underside, stopping just before the tip. A tortured whimper echoes around the helmet, and the Mandalorian is not sure if you could hear it because his muscles pull tighter, drawing his attention to his cock and your mouth and the fact that the latter is not wrapped around him for some reason. As if you could read his mind, you suddenly engulf him whole. Spit gathers on the edge of your lips as you suck on his length, swallowing around the tip and swirling your tongue around his girth.

“Fuck, you’re so—so fucking g-good at this.” You hum in response, sending vibrations through his shaft that make his knees buckle. He always forgets how good it feels with you. He forgets that you take him perfectly like all your holes were made for him to fuck. That you make his blood run hot with every swing of your tongue and every spasm of your cunt and every insolent remark that escapes your lovely mouth, now busy pleasuring him.

You settle on his head and suck on the bulb, hollowing your cheeks to let him feel the delicious inside of your mouth. Mando grabs handfuls of your hair with both hands, still trying to extinguish little whimpers before they leave his throat. And you can tell. He knows you can tell because determination clouds your eyes as you yank him closer by the belt. You drag your tongue in a circle around the ridge of the head, before dipping into the slit on the tip and finally earning a punched out groan and some beads of precum as a reward. Somehow, you moan and chuckle at the same time, opening your mouth as strings of spit fall to the floor.

“You’re hard, Mando,” you coo, pumping his length while you rub it on the side of your face, “throbbing and so, so hard. You should’ve come to me sooner, baby. You’re desperate.” You suck on the head again, and the Mandalorian’s grip on your hair turns to steel, pulling you into him and no longer asking. Moaning, you let him, taking him as far as you can and wrapping a fist where you can’t reach. Your other hand releases his belt and snakes down to your lap, fumbling with the waistband of your pants.

Somewhere in the swamp of sensations drowning his thoughts, an idea flashes in Mando’s head, and he holds on to it before you can suck it out of his tip. One glove lets go of your hair and quickly grans the hand lowering into your heat to resume touching yourself. His cock still in your mouth, you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a silent question.

“You can’t c-cum,” he explains, forcing words out of a throat that right now only wants to moan, “un-until you give me my—my refund.”

You groan and roll your eyes, taking your mouth off him with a pop. “Fuck no,” you breathe as you pump him faster and harder, almost making Mando lose his resolve. Almost. His hold on your wrist tightens. “It’s store policy.”

“Y-yeah?” You continue sliding your fist along his shaft, as you lean forward and lower your face to start lightly licking his balls. The room spins around Mando, and his grip on your hair pushes you into him until you suck on one ball gently. “Is—is it store p-policy to—ngh—to f-fuck your clients?”

You chuckle against his taint. Your head straightens to set your attention back on his tip, where he’s leaking an almost embarrassing amount of precum. A thumb brushes over his slit, gathering the pearls and bringing them into your mouth to taste him. The way you rub your core slightly against the chair is sneaky enough, but the Mandalorian catches the movements and tugs your hand and hair tighter as a warning. Your shoulders slump. “I’ll give you half,” you offer.

Mando guides your hand lower and curls it around his swollen cock, silently begging for your attention. His hand wraps over yours as he squeezes your fist and drags it along his shaft at a pace of his liking that sets his insides ablaze. “Eighty.” The helmet falls back as he revels in the wet sounds of your hand sliding back and forth his cock and giving him a nice enough memory for when he inevitably goes back to the Crest and is forced to take care of his needs himself.

You let him guide you, cupping his balls with your other hand and swirling your tongue around his darkening tip. Mando’s chest trembles with a long moan at the toe-curling feeling of your warm spit and your clenched fist working so hard for him, until you drop him from your mouth and answer, “Seventy.”

“N-no, I—”

“—Seventy,” you repeat and twist your hand away from his grasp, leaving his seeping cock throbbing and abandoned, “or you don’t cum.”

Fuck, he was close. He was so fucking close, before you turned the tables. Like fucking always. A part of him cradles his already bruised pride, shaming him for—yet again—not being able to hold it together around you. But his cock tugs harder. More insistently. It pulls every fiber in his body and screams at him to give you whatever the fuck you want.

“Fine.” He nods his head once, before his better sense can convince him otherwise. “Seventy.”

A full, beautiful smile that almost makes Mando forget he’s getting scammed graces your plump lips. You waste no time shoving your hand inside your underwear again and moving your arm frantically as you give him a couple of throaty whines. You open your mouth as wide as it’ll go and blink up at him, inviting him to take you however he so pleases. He tangles his fingers on your hair and shoves you against him as you wrap your lips around his cock and muffle your mewls on it.

The Mandalorian starts fucking your face, getting his money’s worth as he moves you back and forth. Your eyes water and you gag with every shove, but you work earnestly for him, hollowing your cheeks and moving your tongue and pulling just about every trick on your toolbox to make Mando’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

And stars, even through your pants and his helmet, he can still smell your arousal. He hears the wet squelching of your fingers working your pussy fast and if he could only get a look. One look is all he needs to cum, he’s sure, one fucking look at your clenching cunt and he’s done.

“F-fuck, l-let me see,” he pants, “let—let me s-see you—see your p-pussy cum, just—fuck—just a mo-moment, please, j-just…”

Tears from all the gagging fall out of your pretty eyes as you open your mouth and stand up, taking your trembling hand outside to fumble with your trousers. Your thumbs are hooked under their waistband and push down slightly before you suddenly stop and stare at the Mandalorian gulping all the oxygen he can get and waiting for you. “Sixty,” you say carefully.

Too intoxicated with you and too focused on the blood beating hard on his cock, Mando couldn’t care less. He doesn’t give a shit about percentages or money or parts or whatever half-forgotten excuse he had to come here tonight. All that matters and all that’s real is whatever he needs to climax, and if it means letting you win, so be it. “S-sixty. Yes. Whatever. Just—just take your fucking pants off.”

One swift movement and your pants and underwear pool around your ankles. Yanking hard on the hem, you manage to pull the right leg off your boot. You don’t bother with the other one, letting it hang on your left leg as you climb back on the chair, spreading your legs and hooking one thigh over the armrest to offer him the best view possible.

Mando’s cock threatens to spill at the sight. You’re fucking soaked. Your folds are blushed and slick and swollen with all the blood accumulated on your cunt. Three fingers rub your aching clit and everything around it with messy strokes, as you stare at the bounty hunter with raw lust and moan for him loud and clear, and this. This is worth the fucking navigator.

As soon as his shaft ghost over your face you lean into it and reach for him with your mouth. Mando takes your head between his hands and resumes his previous brutal pace, his eyesight now directed at the way your cunt spasms and seeps more juices with every circle you press against your lips. And, fuck, you’re taking him like you’re hungry for his cock. Pushing harder and further and faster despite the gagging, you’re making Mando see blotches cloud his vision and feel how his muscles turn into hot, thick magma. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can’t hold it in anymore. His balls start pulling up as a warning and you’re sucking harder and mewling around him.

“I—I…I’m gonna—I—”

Mando can’t find enough words to put together for the life of him, but you nod and manage a chocked “Mhmm” and bob your head to the pace of your quickening fingers and stars oh fuck—

The wave of his climax hits him hard on his back and makes him curl around you. He braces himself against the top of your chair and the change in position makes his cock slip outside of your mouth, but his vision goes completely black and all he can feel is the rush of pleasure crushing his bones into dust. Maybe your name is falling from his lips, but he can’t be sure. The never-ending spurts of cum falling somewhere hoard most of his attention, and he focuses on that thick and heavy release, so rare for him that he puts his mind into savoring every second.

It’s not until the echoes around his ears dissipate that the Mandalorian hears you’re still whimpering. Hunched over you, he opens his eyes just in time to see you gather some of the seed that he spilled on your neck and bring it down to smear it over your bundle of nerves, rubbing it one, two, three, four times, before you’re sobbing long and loud. Your hole tightens around nothing, your forehead resting on his cuisse, and Mando thinks he could get hard again just from the image.

You both stay like that for a while, curled into each other and panting in turns, until Mando gathers all the energy left in his system to pull himself upright and shove his softening shaft back into his pants. It’s only then that he sees just how much of a mess he made: Cum landed everywhere. It hangs thick all over your face, on your neck, on your hair, on your clothes. He blushes darkly and he’s about to open his mouth to apologize, but you sense it. Somehow. You wink and brush off his shame with a smile and a wave of your hand, standing up to get dressed. But Mando’s quicker. He kneels in front of you and gently raises your underwear until it hugs your hips, wishing for a fleeting second he could press a kiss on the supple flesh there. You grab his pauldron for balance to sneak your foot into the pantleg that Mando holds open for you.

For once, it’s he who breaks the silence. “I…I do want my sixty percent, you know.”

“Of course.” You smile sweetly at him, reaching back to your work table to grab a clean rag, rubbing it against your face and neck. “I’ll even throw in some free microvalves for good measure.”

—

Taglist of two so you can keep each other company :) : @rosetophighlander @hellomothermoon

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian x you #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian x ofc #the mandalorian smut #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #mando smut #star wars smut #star wars day #his fucking microvalves that he worked hard on

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enchantedliving · 5 years ago

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We Are All Fans of Juniper Fox

BY CAROLYN TURGEON

You’ve probably heard of Juniper Fox. With her nearly 3 million Instagram fans and personal line of products that include T-shirts, pins, and stickers, not to mention her very own celebrity bio, Juniper: The Happiest Fox, she might be the most famous and sought-after red fox in existence. She even has a full-time personal assistant, Jessika Coker, who manages her social media and various business ventures and also feeds her and her brethren every single day. Because Juniper is too in demand to answer press queries and probably busy lying on her back loudly howling, Coker kindly stepped in to answer the following penetrating questions.

Enchanted Living: How did you come to be Juniper’s owner/caretaker/mama? Jessika Coker: Juniper came from a small family-owned farm where they had a litter of ranched fox kits. Ranched foxes are descended from animals used in the fur trade. They’re not considered wild animals because of the differences in their genetic makeup, and for those born in captivity their options are usually to become a pet or to be pelted for their fur. This family was looking for homes for Juniper and her siblings. When I saw they needed a home, I felt inclined to take one, since I knew how to care for them from past experience at wildlife centers.

EL: What are the joys and challenges with her? JC: Juniper is quite a character and never fails to bring a smile to my face. She is extremely loving, and we have a bond beyond what I have ever had with a dog or cat. Foxes are very outwardly emotional animals and that can be both a good and bad thing. When she’s happy it’s blatant—it’s all over her face. She smiles, makes cooing sounds, wags her tail, and wants to be smothered with love and affection. When she’s upset it’s just as apparent. She will scream at the top of her lungs if the other foxes are bothering her; you can almost look at her and see her brows furrowed from frustration. Being such an emotional animal presents its challenges. With the foxes it’s impossible to make them do something they do not want to do, and any disturbance to their normal routine can throw them off for days. They’re not conventional pets, and the level of destruction they can cause to a home is ghastly. They’re loud, rambunctious, and smelly. Something most people don’t know is that fox urine is so pungent, it’s often used as scent cover for hunters! Having that smell in the house means constant cleaning and candles.

Read the full interview and see more photos of Juniper Fox at EnchantedLivingMagazine.com

#juniper fox #fox #juniper #instagram #nature #wildlife #interview #Jessika Coker

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ranma-rewatch · 4 years ago

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Episode 22: Behold! The 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' Technique

Sorry about taking a week off, y’all, I just had a rough go of it. Still sort of am, but I’m back anyway. We’re still in the middle of the arc that introduces Shampoo’s relative Cologne into the cast, and last time Ranma was hit with something that made changing back nigh impossible, forcing him to be stuck in his cursed form. This week should, from what I recall, be how Ranma learns the technique that will become his signature move. Other than that, I think there’s a festival? We’ll see, next paragraph.

Hey, I was right! There was a festival! Though, that’s not where the episode starts off. It begins where it left off, with the realization that Cologne had done something to Ranma that made it so that his skin was so sensitive to heat. He tries to overcome that by jumping into some water that I will assume is warm or hot, but the pain is so much that he passes out immediately, then wakes up being tended to by Kasumi and Nabiki, who dressed Ranma up in some of Nabiki’s lingerie.

He’s annoyed that they did that, but they’re of the opinion that Ranma should lighten up about the fact his body is stuck in a way he doesn’t want it and embrace acting like a girl. I do not like that. He goes on a walk, and is immediately attacked by Kuno, first as an actual attack and then with romance when he sees it’s his ‘pig-tailed girl’. Akane comes in to help, however.

Shampoo shows up, wanting to help Ranma. She says there is a way for him to be able to get rid of what Cologne did to him, and that way is the Phoenix Pill. It gives whoever takes it incredible heat resistance, and Cologne has one with her. When Akane asks why Shampoo is helping, she says it’s because she prefers Ranma’s uncursed state, and basically calls Akane a perverted lesbian for being okay with Ranma as he is.

Heading to the ramen restaurant that Cologne owns, Ranma finds she is waiting for him, openly carrying the pill he needs around her neck, but he’ll have to take it from her by force. He tries, and fails, a lot. Then he sees the cafe is hiring, and uses that as a way to try and get more opportunities to get the pill.

That doesn’t really work either, though Ranma’s presence as a cute waiter does make the place more popular with men. Eventually, Cologne shows Ranma a secret technique of the Amazons, one that would certainly help him get the pill: titular Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique. It’s basically a hand-to-hand move that involves moving the hands so quickly they can pull out chestnuts from a fire without burning the hands.

Ranma tries learning it with his father’s help later, but it doesn’t seem to be working, even when Cologne stops by to show him it again. The fact Genma can’t do it either is a bit of a factor too, of course. The others suggest Ranma go to the fair to relax, and Akane goes with him. He quickly starts having fun, to Akane’s relief, but then she sees a kid being scammed by a stall out of getting a fish.

She tries to help, but she can’t win the game either. Ranma jumps in, and handily manages to scoop up fish using a net that’s basically nonexistent. The stall-owner, not wanting to actually have to give away a prize, demands Ranma do it again with piranhas, but he realizes he can do it: all that time with Cologne has enhanced his speed, and what he’d need to do to catch the piranhas is basically the Kachū Tenshin Amaguriken (which just sounds cooler than the translation), and he does it.

Now confident, Ranma goes to find Cologne, only to fall into a trapdoor. She sends illusions based on characters from Journey to the West after him, but he manages to chase her out of there and into an enormous public path area. She heads out onto the water, but Ranma uses a stick he stole from a monkey pretending to be the Monkey King to get out on the water. He does manage to use the technique and take what he thinks is the pill, only for Cologne to realize, just before he falls into hot water, that it’s a fake since she was afraid he might master the ability. The episode ends with him vowing to get the real one, and turn back to normal.

So, a lot happened, except also not a lot did. The big thing, obviously, was Ranma learning the Kachū Tenshin Amaguriken, which will be basically his staple move. It works well for him, despite the silly name. Ranma’s always been fast, so giving him a technique built on speed just fits him. This is also basically the first time in the series he’s had to train and level up to face a tougher foe, so that’s neat.

Not as neat is all the misgendering. I know, to a lot of folks, all the stuff about other people wishing Ranma would just act ‘like a girl’ is either fun or harmless, but that’s not the case for me. Like I’ve said before, Ranma’s situation with his curse reads a lot to me like someone as a trans man, as he tries over and over again to insist to everyone that he is, in fact, a man regardless of what he looks like. There have been small moments of the Tendo sisters trying to get him to dress femininely before, but actually putting him in women’s clothes in his sleep just feels really wrong to me.

The front half of the episode was also pretty filler-y, not a lot happened, and the fluff wasn’t even particularly enjoyable. There were also a lot of coloring errors for a few characters hair, namely Shampoo and Ranma’s, as well as quite a few shots were some of them looked off-model, so it wasn’t particularly pleasing to the eyes, on the whole.

All of that said, I did enjoy a lot of the Akane stuff with this episode. Despite griping here and there, something about her being happy that Ranma, who has been run ragged, is able to enjoy himself at the festival, and about her trying to help that kid win a fish, it’s just cute. There were also just a lot of small moments between Ranma and Akane I liked peppered throughout.

This wasn’t really a bad episode, but it wasn’t a particularly good one either. It was a step on the path towards Ranma getting cured of his new ailment, as well as the story of how he learned his signature move. This episode was near the bottom for me, right between the first episode of the series and the third.

Episode 7: Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’

Episode 12: A Woman's Love is War! The Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 15: Enter Shampoo, the Gung-Ho Girl! I Put My Life in Your Hands

Episode 9: True Confessions! A Girl's Hair is Her Life!

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 19: Clash of the Delivery Girls! The Martial Arts Takeout Race

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 17: I Love You, Ranma! Please Don’t Say Goodbye

Episode 20: You Really Do Hate Cats!

Episode 16: Shampoo's Revenge! The Shiatsu Technique That Steals Heart and Soul

Episode 8: School is a Battlefield! Ranma vs. Ryoga

Episode 11: Ranma Meets Love Head-On! Enter the Delinquent Juvenile Gymnast!

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 22: Behold! The 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' Technique

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Episode 21: This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!

Episode 10: P-P-P-Chan! He's Good For Nothin'

Episode 14: Pelvic Fortune-Telling? Ranma is the No. One Bride in Japan

Episode 18: I Am a Man! Ranma's Going Back to China!?

Now, next time we have another new character appearing, and it is once again to be someone we’ll get to know a lot more throughout the run of the series. Next time, we’ll cover “Enter Mousse! The Fist of the White Swan” and perhaps I’ll get new insight into a character I was never originally a huge fan of. See you all then.

#episode 22 #Behold! The 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' Technique #ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #Cologne #akane tendo #anime analysis #anime rewatch

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linneawritesstories · 5 years ago

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My Home is my Castle

Based on a prompt by @givethispromptatry

“Are you sure you wish to live here?” His guide frowned up at the gray stone before them. “This place is said to be full of ghouls and demons.”

“Oh, yes! I’ve always wanted roommates!” He laughed and patted the man’s shoulder as he took his first steps up the castle’s cobblestone walkway.

There are a variety of ways to get a fresh start. Purchasing a purported haunted, cursed castle off a Craiglist ad for cheap was not a common one, but it would work well enough for him.

His guide met him at the local gas station, the only one in the area. Colby stepped out of his truck to shake the man’s hand and learned that his name was Edward. Call him Ed.

Now, Ed was born in this little town and lived there for the entirety of his 55 years. “It’s a bit out of the way,” he warned, pointing out the castle on a map for Colby.

“That’s all right,” Colby replied. He’d known that when he bought the place, though today would be the first time he saw it in person. There had been little effort in the ad to disguise the disrepair it was in, so his expectations were low.

Ed grunted and chewed on his lip. “It’s up a long, winding road. Ain’t no phone service up there, so won’t be anybody to help you if you need it.”

Read on my website, or click below to read more!

Colby shrugged.

Ed sighed and climbed into his own truck, motioning for Colby to follow him. The progress was slow. The road was long and twisty, made of dirt softened by the recent rain. Ed was cautious, and three times they had to stop to pull branches and felled logs out of the road. Colby noticed the way Ed’s eyes darted to the tree line as they worked together to roll a log to the side. Colby recognized it, that edge of fear. The fear of someone who doesn’t know what is out there but suspects he would not like it.

Ed was quick to get back into his truck.

The lights of the town had long since disappeared behind them. This deep, the trees seemed like impenetrable walls on either side, blocking out the watery sunlight. Without warning, the road opened up after a turn. The trees fell away behind them and they were rolling over tall, thick grass that spread out to either side and devoured the road. This was the first of the castle’s defences, meant in the old days to keep enemy soldiers from sneaking up to the castle walls undetected and depriving them of cover.

And there was the castle.

It was small, as castles went. But a small castle still made for a large house. The advertisement said that there were seven bedrooms, plus an additional, smaller room that could be used as a bedroom or an office. There was a dining room, a small ball room, a kitchen, and several primitive bathrooms. However, there had been no actual photos of the interior provided, so Colby would be walking into a surprise.

He parked his truck next to Ed’s in a spot where the grass was shorter and patchier. There was no proper parking area, as the place had been abandoned for so long.

Colby hopped to the ground without bothering to lock the truck. If what he’d heard was right, nobody would come near the castle. It was in no danger of being stolen. Unless, of course, the faeries made off with it.

But that was silly.

Faeries couldn’t drive.

Ed hovered near his truck, trying to appear casual by leaning his arm against the side. But his arm was tense, and there was a sheen of sweat over his bald head. The fear rolled off him.

He had been the only person willing to escort Colby to the property. Even the realtor hadn’t been able to hide her distaste for the place. “There’s just something about it,” she'd said over the phone, and Colby could hear the shudder in her voice. “It’s eerie. I’m not surprised people think it’s cursed. Our photographer wouldn’t even go inside.”

Colby held out his hand for Ed to shake. “Thanks for the escort,” he said, giving Ed’s meatier hand a firm squeeze. “Appreciate it.”

Ed’s dark eyes held worry. “You sure you want to live here?” he asked. He eyed the grey stone before them, from the crumbling wall that acted as a fence for what had been the outer garden to the sturdier walls that made up the main structure. “They say the place is haunted. Full of ghouls, demons, maybe vampires.”

“Do you believe in monsters?” Colby asked.

Ed shrugged and rubbed the sweat from the top of his head. “Not unless I’m standing here, I don’t. ‘Cept human ones.” He shrugged again. “But there’s something about this place that brings out the superstition in me.”

Colby laughed and went to his truck bed, lifting out a suitcase. That would get him through the night. He could unload the boxes and go shopping for supplies tomorrow - it looked like dark fell early around here, and he wasn’t eager to navigate the road on his own in the dark.

“I guess you don’t believe in monsters, seeing as you bought the place,” Ed remarked.

Colby set his suitcase by the wall and went back to pull a cat carrier out of the back of the truck. He laughed again. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said with a grin. “I always thought it’d be kind of fun to have roommates.”

Ed eyed him as though Colby was confirming a suspicion that he wasn’t quite sane. “Well,” he said, pulling his truck door open and hesitating for another moment. “There is an apartment with a vacancy, if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, but me and Popcorn will be just fine.”

The look of judgment sent his way made him raise his eyebrows. Then he realized he was being judged for what he named his cat.

Despite the look, Ed didn’t comment. Instead, he heaved himself back into his truck with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you around then,” he said in a tone that made it clear that he doubted he would.

“Yep. Thanks again, Ed.”

Colby watched Ed’s battered pickup pull away and disappear into the trees. Then he picked up Popcorn’s cat carrier and his suitcase and turned toward his new home. “Well, Popcorn, guess we’d better go see what we’ve got to work with.”

The situation wasn’t as dire as Colby feared. The house was wired for electricity, though it was outdated and did not work. It would be expensive but not impossible to get it rewired. Assuming, of course, he could convince any of the locals to even come out here to do it. Hm. That might be a challenge. But if it was impossible, he would get by just fine without electricity. He had done it before.

The plumbing worked, though he found a nasty surprise in one of the bathrooms. He closed the door quickly to avoid releasing the possum family into the rest of the house and made a mental note to beware of wildlife while he was looking around.

He didn’t want to let Popcorn loose to roam the house until he was sure it was sound.

He found the cleanest bedroom and stripped the bedding off the bed. He had a sleeping bag for tonight, and he could buy a new mattress and bedding tomorrow. Once he made sure there were no holes for Popcorn to escape through, he let her out of the cat carrier to explore the room.

She went straight under the bed and stayed there, which was to be expected. Just because he liked new places didn’t mean Popcorn shared his opinion.

As night fell, Colby set up candles from a box he’d found in the kitchen. There was no lighter included, but he had his own. He sat cross-legged in the centre of the big, barren bed, and he had to admit that the eerie glow cast by the dozen candles around the room gave it a creepy ambience befitting of a haunted castle. He tried to keep still, but it was hard not to squirm in excitement.

Ghouls, demons, and monsters came out at night.

He didn’t have to wait long. Old buildings like this were never silent, but the mundane creaking of wood and whistling of wind was overshadowed by loud, rapid footsteps on the upper floor.

Colby’s face split in a wide grin and he leapt from bed to floor in one smooth motion. He reached into his suitcase for his axe and darted into the hall to meet his roommates.

The dying screams of the possum family told him where to go. He darted through the open doorway to find the creature crouched on the floor, blood dripping from its teeth as it gulped down chunks of possum.

Colby paused in the doorway and leaned on his axe. “Hey there, roomie!” he said as the creature’s head whipped toward him. Hm. His research hadn’t indicated that a werewolf had taken up residence, and yet here one was, glowing amber eyes, bristling grey fur, and long dripping snout and all.

Werewolves weren’t solitary, but Colby didn’t smell any other wolves nearby. A wolf without a pack had nobody to keep it sane.

Too bad, Colby thought. He brought the axe up as the werewolf gathered itself and lunged for his throat. There was nothing human in its eyes. Putting it down was the most humane thing to do.

He severed its head with a thwack, making an expression of distaste as the head thumped to the floor and rolled.

It was normal for a werewolf to regain human shape upon death. This one did not, which confirmed for Colby that it was beyond saving. Too bad. Werewolves had strong family values and made good company.

He smelled rather than heard the approach of his next potential roommate. He glanced back at the hallway to find it empty. Good thing he thought to look up.

Colby braced the now bloody axe on his shoulder as he smiled at the woman clinging to the ceiling. Her pale, bloodless face and dark eyes betrayed nothing but curiosity. Her teeth were almost as sharp as his own, but he had more of them. “Huh, a vampire an a werewolf in the same space,” he commented, looking between her and the crumpled body in the room behind him. “That’s a first.”

The woman’s beautiful, lifeless face took on a pout. “I was here first,” she said. “He was an invader.”

“I see.” He tilted his head. “Don’t vampires need to be invited in?”

She hissed in annoyance. “I was, a long time ago. As long as I don’t leave, I can stay without invitation from the new owner.” She eyed him. “You are the new owner, are you not?”

“That’s right. You’ve got good ears, to hear that even though no one will set foot in the place.”

She shrugged.

Colby drummed his fingers on the handle of his axe and eyed the vampire thoughtfully. He’d told Ed the truth - he did think it would be kind of fun to have a roommate. Life got lonely when you were immortal. Maybe she thought the same. Or maybe she was waiting for him to turn his back so that she could eat him. Never could tell with vampires.

He pointed the axe at her. “I don’t mind if you stay, but it’s gotta be on my terms. No trying to eat me or any guests I bring by, or I’ll chop your head off like I did your friend over there.” He pointed at the bloody corpse with the axe.

She hissed at him again. “He was not my friend,” she said, insulted. “I planned to eat him, but you got here first.”

“I see.” He waved for her to go ahead. “By all means. Just clean up when you’re done.” Would save him from having to do it.

The vampire looked wary, but she dropped to the floor. She was formless and silent, which explained how she had snuck up on him earlier.

It was the scent of blood and dust that gave her away. All vampires smelled like that.

“You got a name?” he asked as she picked her way around him.

She hesitated before answering. “Lois. And you?”

“Call me Colby.”

“It’s not your name?” she asked. It must have been the phrasing that caught her attention.

Colby shrugged. “I’ve had a few names.” He glanced away as Lois knelt next to the fallen werewolf. He wasn’t squeamish, exactly, but there was something about watching a vampire lick blood from the stump where a head should be that turned the stomach.

“I suppose the cat is yours?” Lois asked.

She could smell Popcorn, either on him or in the halls when he’d carried her up. “Yep, and don’t you eat her,” Colby warned.

She rolled her eyes. “Tell that to the ghoul.”

“Where can I find him?”

"Attic, usually, though he may have come out for the kitty.” She paused, then answered his unspoken question with reluctance. “I’ve claimed the basement.”

“And the demon?” he asked. He was already moving down the hallway. Despite his attitude, he was worried about Popcorn.

Her eyes narrowed, but he didn’t feel the need to explain that he could smell smoke and sulphur clinging to the air, telltale signs that there had been demons about.

Lois’ lips moved as though in a sigh, but it was all pantomime. Her lungs were long since dead and could not longer draw in air. “He crawls down the chimney every couple days. We’re kind of... seeing each other.”

“Gotcha,” he said, though he could’ve done without the mental images drawn by that last bit of information. “Enjoy your meal, Lois.”

He could hear her slurping as he walked back to his room.

The ghoul hadn’t managed to gain entry, but it was clawing ineffectually at the protection spell Colby had placed upon the door.

“Excuse me, sir, but that is my room,” Colby said. As he spoke, the ghoul turned its head toward him. It had sunken pits instead of eyes, but Colby still got the impression that it was looking him over. It leaned in closer - it had to be about seven feet tall, its limbs elongated and gaunt. But he felt no hostility, so he allowed its inspection without complaint.

“Who?” it asked in a garbled voice.

“Colby. I own this place now,” Colby replied.

“Live... here?”

“Yep.”

“I live here.”

Colby smiled. “No problem. Just don’t bother my cat, and I won’t bother you,” he said. He had no intention of kicking out any of the inhabitants that weren’t inclined to kill him.

The ghoul looked at Colby, then at the door. It seemed to sigh. “Understood.”

“Great.” Colby dared to approach in order to open the door. The ghoul took a step back to let him by and didn’t charge through the opening, which was promising. Even when Colby paused with the door partially open. “What can I call you?” he asked.

The ghoul looked at him for a long moment. Colby didn’t mind waiting for it to come up with a name it liked.

“Abe,” was what it settled on.

“All right. Good night, Abe.”

“...Good night.”

Popcorn was still hiding under the bed, which was understandable, so she didn’t come out to greet Colby as he closed the door. He flopped out on the bed with a heavy sigh. Hopefully he’d met all the castle’s inhabitants, and tomorrow he could start fixing up the place without any of them trying to kill him. He knew he was the interloper here, human ownership rights or not. He had no intention of bothering them more than necessary in the years he lived here before he moved on.

And he would move on, someday. Moving ever onward was the fate of an immortal.

If you enjoyed this story, you may also enjoy my ghost story, "Poltergeist."

#my home is my castle #short story #short stories #my writing #Linnea writes stories #supernatural #horror #vampires #demons #werewolves #ghouls #a cat #immortality #writers on tumblr

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hardyalise92 · 5 years ago

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How To Stop Cat Spraying Heat Stunning Unique Ideas

Give your cat behaviors that need attention.Yet, many problems adjusting with dogs as well.The final option is ultrasonic cat house soiling accidents because as they relearn the rules of the diagnosis is to handle when new.-- If your flea problem and don't expect your furry friend should be kept closed.

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Cat Urine Grout

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How To Get Rid Of Cat Spraying Smell

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#How To Stop Cat Spraying Heat Stunning Unique Ideas #Cat Spray Prevention

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adventures-at-scotts-nursery · 5 years ago

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Ch. 3 The Siren’s Call

<<First Chapter

<<Previous Chapter

The Siren's Call was one of three bars in town, and in Scott's mind, it was the best by far. It was a cozy place that leaned into its nautical theme with pictures of mermaids and marine life covering the walls and had an assortment of shells and messages in bottles in various locations. Had the bar been on a beach front, it likely would have been a tourist trap; instead, it was situated just off of Fifth and Maple, a short twenty minute walk from Scott’s Nursery and two hours from the nearest shore. It drew a regular crowd and in the few months since Scott had started frequenting the place, he had figured out the natural lulls in the day when he could drink in peace.

"Well look what the cat dragged in!"

Well, mostly in peace.

Trevor was grinning like the idiot he was as Scott took his place at the bar. Dani, the bar’s owner, smiled as she greeted Scott and poured him the usual. True to form, the bar was mostly empty. Aside from Trevor, there were two other people down the bar and a table of two in the corner. The standard crowd for an early Monday evening.

"We were starting to think you didn't like us anymore. You had us worried, man," Trevor said. Despite his outward appearance as a tough guy, with multiple piercings, tattoos, and clothes covered in grease stains, Trevor was a decent guy who was quick to smile and even quicker to lend a helping hand.

"How could I not like you anymore? It’s been a week."

“No text, no call, no warning; you just stop showing up for drinks. What was I supposed to think?”

"Mr. Dramatic over here has been lamenting about how you must have found a new friend to replace us with and how he'll have to find a new drinking buddy," Dani said with a chuckle, clearly entertained by Trevor’s antics. She was a shorter woman with pixie like features; a small round nose and almost unnaturally big blue silver eyes. She wore her wedding band on a silver necklace, though that never stopped her from flirting for better tips

"Seriously?" Scott asked with eyebrows raised as he gave Trevor a look. "Just cause I skipped out on a few drinks? Might I remind you of the time you flooded the apartment in college? How about the time you shaved off my eyebrows or filled my shoes with live slugs? I’ve stayed friends with you through all that; so why would I replace you now?"

"Well now I feel dumb--"

“You are dumb.”

Trevor pouted and looked to Dani for support, who just stared back at him with a grin as if to dare him to ask her what she really thought. With a huff and a shake of his head, Trevor turned back to Scott. "My point is that you’re the responsible sort, you always let me know when you can’t make it out. So what am I supposed to think when you just stop showing up unexpectedly? How could I not get worried about you?"

A twinge of guilt stabbed at Scott; he had been so enchanted by Isaac and getting to know the younger man that he had completely forgotten about anyone else and had even blown off his friend. It would have taken two seconds to let Trevor know what was going on.

"You know you could have texted him," Dani interjected, "instead of crying about your best friend has forsaken you and how you can't bear to go on alone."

“Hey! I did not cry about it!” Trevor protested, which caused Dani to laugh and made Scott feel a little better. “I was proper manly and cool about the whole thing. Like James Dean if he were worried about a close pal.”

Scott chuckled to himself as Trevor got more and more animated as Dani goaded him on. At times like these, it was hard to believe that Trevor was two years older than him. “I got the picture, I’ll do better to let you know if I won’t be able to show up,” he said, then couldn’t help but to add, "you're like a puppy, you know that?”

"Better than being a bear," Trevor retorted.

"Stop pretending you know what that means."

“Soooo,” Trevor said, turning his chair to face Scott, leaning against the bar and propping his hand against his face. “If you don’t hate me and you haven’t replaced me with a new drinking buddy in some other bar, just what have you been doing this past week? You better have a good explanation kiddo."

Scott chuckled at the serious look Trevor was failing to give him; much like an older brother trying to interrogate a sibling instead of simply asking what had been going on. With a shake of his head, Scott took a sip of beer and prepared to tell him all about the wonderful week dinners he had had with Isaac. Though perhaps he would be vague on the details of what happened after the dinners.

“Well--”

“Hang on,” Dani interrupted, holding up a finger to stop him. She stepped back to grab the top shelf rum and pour half a glass; then she set the glass down halfway between herself and Trevor. Then she grinned and leaned against the bar with a mischievous grin. “Alright, sorry about that. Please continue.”

Scott shot a glance at Trevor, as if to ask what the deal was, though he had a wild look in his eye and a stupid grin on his face. It was a look that promised entertainment and that whatever was going on came from a ridiculous and/or stupid idea. Added to the fact that it involved alcohol? Yeah, Trevor was up some sort of idiocy that it was better not to get involved with; though from the way Trevor and Dani both were looking at him, there didn’t seem to be a way to not be involved.

“Ah-- right then. As I was saying, I met a guy last week,” Scott said as a smile crept onto his face. It was impossible to think of Isaac and not be happy. “He’s charming and handsome and we really hit it off. So we’ve been going out and getting dinner and getting to know each other.”

“Nooooo,” Trevor wailed as Dani grinned smugly and held out a hand, demanding he pay up. So they had been betting on what Scott’s answer would be. That made sense. Scott took a slow sip as Trevor tried to weasel his way out of the bet.

“Wait, double or nothing!”

Dani’s eyes narrowed, like a cat staring down at a mouse, as she leaned closer to the bar. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You already owe me $30, do you really want to risk going $60 into the hole over one little bet?”

Stupidly, Trevor insisted he did. They agreed to wager on Isaac’s age with Dani betting he was in his late twenties, and Trevor betting he was in his early thirties. They shook hands and Dani topped off the glass before they turned back to Scott for the verdict.

Scott felt bad for his friend as he pointed at Dani, "she's right."

Trevor howled and slumped onto the bar as Dani wolfishly grinned and immediately held her hand out to be paid. With a frustrated huff Trevor handed over sixty bucks and accepted the rum.

"So, you guys were betting on why I wasn't showing up, I take it?"

Dani nodded and went back to washing up the glasses. "Earlier in the week I mentioned that you were probably on a date and Trevor laughed, saying that wasn't possible. He seemed to think you were stuck on coming up with business strategies to make rent. Well, either that or you ran out into the woods to live off the land."

"I never should have made that stupid bet," Trevor grumbled. He sighed wistfully as he sipped his rum, then grinned and drank some more. Apparently it was hard to stay mad whilst drinking the best rum in the house, even if he did end up paying double what it normally cost.

"I did warn you not to bet against me," Dani said, with a laugh. "I own and run the bar, I hear all the gossip."

Scott raised an eyebrow. He knew that Dani kept a pulse on everything going on in town; she had even known about his shop the first time he had gone to get a drink. It shouldn’t have been a shock that she knew about his relationship; yet it was. “What sort of gossip?”

"Oh, nothing much," Dani said with a twinkle in her eye and a wave of her hand. "I just overheard an excitable fellow talking about a gardener with a big heart and gentle hands. It’s not what I would call hot gossip, only a few people know, just me and his friends.” She paused for effect then added, “how is Isaac by the way?"

Trevor nearly choked on his drink; which would have been a shame considering how much he had just paid for it. "Wait, you know who he's dating? That's not even fair! You cheated in our bet and I want a refund."

Dani stared him down with a hand on her hip and a satisfied grin; which was impressive considering she was a good foot and a half shorter than Trevor. "I warned you not to make bets against me, and yet you insisted. You just assumed you were right and nothing would change your mind. Remember, I told you three times to forget about it and three times you challenged me. If I remember correctly, you 'weren't going to miss a chance to try my best drink for free'."

Trevor grumbled to himself and pouted. Scott might have felt bad for him if he wasn’t so distracted. Besides, Trevor had gotten himself into this mess by not thinking; so it was what he deserved really.

"What did Isaac say about me?” he asked. It was weird and strangely exhilarating to hear what Isaac himself was saying about him. Plus it was a good chance to hear what the younger man really thought about him.

“He talked about how kind and gentle you are and also added that you are 'really hot'. He went on to talk about you at length, it seems you made quite an impression on him." Dani said. “It was a busy day, so I had to keep an eye on a lot of customers, but every time I checked back on Isaac and his friend, they were still talking about you.” Then she winked at Scott and added, “and it sounds like you're a beast in the sheets."

Scott’s cheeks burned as Trevor seemed delighted by this revelation and congratulated Scott by clapping him on the back and calling him a dog. While it was good to hear Isaac enjoyed their nights together, it was another thing to hear those words come out of Dani’s mouth. Unsure of how to respond, Scott decided to finish off his beer and just not deal with it.

Dani laughed at Scott’s response. “So it looks like the two of you are getting rather close. How long before we can start drinking in your honor?”

“I’m not planning on marrying him just yet. Don’t rush me into anything,” Scott protested. He sighed as the image of Isaac in a wedding suit flitted across his mind. He shook his head to clear it. “Though I probably should ask him to be my boyfriend soon. I probably will if we keep going out.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Dani said. She poured him a new glass and slid it across the bar. "So Trevor, word about town is you hired a young woman for your shop."

Trevor lit up and started talking about the new mechanic he hired; describing that she knew her stuff and how life was so much easier having someone else so knowledgeable around. Of course, he made mention of how beautiful she was, but insisted that he hired her based on her skill and nothing else. And the conversation flowed long after the bar started filling up and Dani had to move on to serving the other customers. At the end of the night, Scott made sure to promise not to skip out on drinks without warning any more.

Next Chapter>>

#chapter #scott gardner #Dani Vodika #Trevor Cummings #And at long loooooong last I finally update!!!#sorry for taking so long to get around to this #I was studying for a professional exam and had no time to write #except the exam was cancelled and now I have to take it next year #thanks Covid #The next 2 chapters are written and will be posted shortly

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dog-and-cat-care-training · 9 months ago

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sparklyaxolotlstudent · 6 years ago

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I still haven’t finished with Karma Chameleon, but a new idea ocurred to me. I was going to write headcanons about the miraculous, their powers, weapons and stuff, but decided to have a bit more fun and write it as a semi-crack fic about Marinette having a test of sorts to become the new Guardian.

The tests are relatively easy, at least from Marinette’s perspective... Because she *is* a very clever girl and she deserves the world.

I don’t have everything planned (Only Plagg, Trixx, Pollen, Wayzz, Orikko and Ziggy more or less) so I might take even more to write this mini series.

Also everything is tongue-in-cheek, so don’t expect angst or much seriousness in here.

THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS TO BECOME A NEW GUARDIAN.

It was a normal day in the normal day of normal teenager Marinette Dupain-Cheng, middle schooler by day, super hero by night… although most of the Akuma attacks occurred in broad daylight, but that’s a talk for another day.

Today, Marinette had been enjoying one of those rare free times she very rarely got, when a turtle like being had appeared in her window, summoning her to the secret lair of his master.

Marinette wondered if her ‘adoptive’ grandpa had locked himself outside his home again. Or maybe he couldn’t find the remote. Or was again out of toilet paper.

Marinette arrived along with a red spotted little being that looked nothing like a ladybug.

“Hello?” She called. “Are you here? I brought toilet paper just in case” she announced.

“Come inside, we are waiting for you”

Marinette went inside, where she found Master Fu dressed in what looked like ceremonial robes.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Holder of the Miraculous of the Ladybug, of Creation, Restoration and Good Luck.” He said, all solemn. Marinette felt weird, but also adopted a firm pose. She felt like she was graduating all over again. “As part of your training as a Holder and as the next Guardian, you need to know everything you need to know about the Miraculous, and likewise, you will need to pass the Judgment of the Kwami to see that you are worthy. Will you, of your own will, without anyone forcing you, accept this challenge?”

“I will”

“You will face a challenge of each of the Kwami that are under the care of the current Guardian. Once the challenge starts, it can only de stopped by failing or succeeding. I ask again, will you face this challenge, on your own free will, to become the next Guardian?”

“I will”

“You will face this alone, not as the Holder of the Ladybug, but as Marinette Dupain.Cheng, and as such, the Kwami of Creation, Tikki, can’t accompany you. By the rule of three, I ask you again, Will you face this challenge on your own?”

Marinette was starting to feel anxious about this so called challenge, and all the solemnity of it, it’s not that she wasn’t prepared, but it was so sudden. She however, was ready to accept any challenge.

“I will”

As soon as the words left her, a small spark left her mouth and went to a mirror that she hadn’t noticed before. The spark got into the mirror and it began to shine light.

“The Challenge has been accepted, the trial will begin”

Master Fu led Marinette to the light mirror, and with Tikki wishing her the best (She technically couldn’t wish her good luck, as it would count it as her accompanying Marinette) she stepped inside.

“Are you worried?”

“No, Marinette can with this. I believe in her.”

PART 1. THE BLACK CAT

Marinette landed in something solid, and once the blinding light had receded, she found herself in her classroom.

“Good morning students! Today we will see why Cheese is the best invention in the whole history of the universe!”

“… Plagg?” Plagg was in place of Miss Bustier, wearing little glasses and a green bowtie. He smiled when he saw her.

“Hello Little Bug! Please take a seat!”

Marinette did as instructed, and noticed a miraculous box in front of her. She was pretty sure it wasn’t there before she took a seat.

“AHEM! As the Kwami whose powers you’re most familiar with, besides sugarcu…. Err… Tikki, it fell on me the duty of being your first Challenge. The Challenge of Destruction. And also be a general guide for all this nonsense. Marinette smiled. Plagg was his usual irreverent self, even in this important test. “First of all, please open the box and put on my Miraculous, the Ring of the Black Cat.”

Marinette opened the box and saw a black ring. She couldn’t help but notice that the paw on top was missing. “Wait, what if Hawk Moth attacks while I’m here and you’re here and Chat Noir needs you!”

“Good instincts Little Bug! Don’t worry, we’re in a pocket dimension, it doesn’t matter how much it takes you to fail or succeed on the test, you will left exactly 15 minutes after you came inside. It used to be immediately, but a former Holder of the Fox knocked himself out of the mirror and they had to change it.”

Marinette put on the ring then. So that’s how the ring looked like without Plagg inside. Despite being pretty sure that Chat Noir’s hands were bigger than hers, the ring fit perfectly.

“We need to charge the ring first. And information here, is power. So tell me, Little Bug…. What’s your favorite color?”

Marinette blinked twice, slightly confused. That wasn’t a very hard question… maybe it was just Plagg being Plagg. “Pink?” A little beep and one of the parts of the paw lighted up.

“Very good Little Bug! Next Question. What is my concept?”

“The Black Cat is the Kwami of Destruction, Freedom and Bad Luck.” Another beep and another part lighted up.

“Excellent! What weapon does my holder get?”

“A baton. It can extend itself into a full staff and become two. It’s also the only thing immune to Cataclysm.”

“Hey, don’t get ahead of the test Little Bug… Hhmmm… What does Cataclysm do?”

“A controlled destruction. If the Holder is not thinking in anything in particular, it will destroy anything it touched, making it rot away, however, if the holder has a plan, the destruction will follow a pattern, even if it should be physically impossible.”

“Last one. What kind of person can wear the Black Cat?”

“Anyone, but the best suited are those in need of a bit of freedom, and that are complemented by the destruction and bad luck it might bring.”

The final light on the ring appeared. Plagg smiled. “Master Fu choose a good Little Bug. Now, for the final part, you will transform into the Black Cat, I guess you know the phrase already”

“Plagg, claws out!” called Marinette, doing a little dance while the Black Cat suit formed around her. It was weird how similar and how different it felt to her usual transformation. She felt a bit more agile than as Ladybug, and couldn’t help but notice her vision was a bit clearer. She wanted so badly to turn off the lights to try her nocturne vision.

“Focus Little Bug” She heard inside her own head. Weird. She had never heard Tikki talk to her before. “This is no normal transformation; I still have to guide you in your trial. I’m usually not this aware of what my Little Cat’s are doing.” Marinette wondered what was up with the nicknames. “It’s so it’s harder for me to slip your identity to my Little Cat, Marinette” Marinette gulped. For a second, she had forgotten that Plagg still had an ‘owner’. “Also, Tikki dislikes it, so win-win. Anyway, your challenge is simple. You’re locked up in this room, you can do Cataclysm, but there is no Ladybug that will fix what you destroy. What will you do?”

Marinette thought for a few seconds, before going to the door of the classroom. She opened it.

“Err… yes, that was totally the right answer…. CONGRATULATIONS LITTLE BUG” Marinette smiled at her success. “Now do a Cataclysm on the space between this room and hallway so you can go to your next challenge.”

“Cataclysm!” Marinette yelled and did as instructed, imagining opening a portal while touching the air. She succeeded, and looked like a broken mirror. She thanked Plagg and went inside the next room.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fiction #ml fanfic #ml headcanon #kwami #marinette the next guardian #black cat miraculous #black cat kwami #ml plagg #marinette dupain-cheng

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anxietymymiddlename · 6 years ago

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Lethe ~ Reaching You~

Pairing: Jumin H. x MC4 Summary: Born as a powerful wizard, unable of feeling, a strange encounter and a tempting suggestion will lead him to another world, in a new life, in order to reach her. Will he play the game to the end? Note: As I am not very confident in my English, I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes. I hope that you will enjoy the story anyway. [Prologue]

Day 1

In a world driven by magic, nothing seemed impossible. Especially for those who held immense power. But immense power in that word could be a curse for those who held it. Misuse, either intentional or not, was not rare, but the true curse -as people used to say- was that wizards could not truly love.

That did not necessarily mean that they were unable to harbor romantic feelings; more that they were afraid to do so, or because they were more in love with their power instead of their partner. There were also many cases of wizards who, while harboring these kind of feelings, they were driven mad by them. At east that's what the stories said and people always kept their distance. Were they afraid of their powers or of what they could do with it for the people they loved, who could tell? Falling in love with a wizard was always considered a taboo.

Thus, a romance between a wizard and a human, a case of true love, was rare but marrying out of convenience was not. When he looked at his friends, he wondered if destiny brought them together. If true love was supposed to be so rare for people like them, then it should be probably it. But they what about him then? Just when he decided that he had no use of this kind of a relationship, doubts were filling his mind and then that happened.

Were they right? Was he loosing his mind after all? Day after day, he was visiting the lake, leaning over the water, impatiently waiting to see her. At first, it was pure curiosity, mixed with a subtle attraction, but as the days were passing, he found himself, as he would describe, enchanted. First, it was her smile, then they way she blinked when she was confused. Moments of naivety, the way she was awkwardly touching the tip of her bangs while she was talking to a stranger, even how she wrinkled her nose when she was getting annoyed. Moments, snippets of her everyday life… and how… how he was dying to hear her voice. He was praying every time that he would be able to, since the first time he heard her. And every chance he had to do so, he was afraid that he could not listen to her properly over his heartbeat.

Day by day, he was loosing himself more and more. He was standing there for hours. Even Elizabeth could not distract him. He lost his appetite, but felt a constant weird feeling in his stomach. He wasn't feeling weak but felt feverish all the time. The part around the lake bloomed wildly. To his eyes was the most special place after all.

It wasn't like he was trying to hide it, but this change in him did not go unnoticed. In his rare visits, his friend realized that something was not normal. However, trying to respect his friend, he did not push him to open up, despite voicing his concerns.

Sadly, he was not the only one to notice. Wizards were not uncommon to have an aide, especially if they were widely recognized. In this case, his loving friend was accompanied of a rather troubling one. Caught for mischief and brought to serve as a reform, the auburn-haired mage watched the two men talking from afar. It wasn't hard for him to notice the surprise face he made then they announced their sudden visit or how conflicted he looked when his friend told him that he would be staying there for a while. Though he did welcome him as a guest to his house, he did not look very happy about it.

As the two of them immersed in a conversation, the young mage excused himself from the room, alleging that he would like to rest, but he did not hesitate to leave the castle completely. He curiously walked towards the lake and finally stood over the spot the man was standing when they arrived. A bit hesitant at first, he reached his hand over the water and clicked his tongue frustrated. With his powers suppressed, her was not sure if it would work but he proceeded anyway… Reverse.

He was taken aback. The image of a girl… It was the last thing he was expecting to see, but what surprised him the most was the image of a world he was not familiar with. Tall buildings and strange carriages with no animals, he felt excited. Was it a bridge between the two worlds? He touched the water but his hand sunk in it. Nothing happened. So it was more like a mirror then.

"Oh, she is eating..."

She was munching something crunchy out of a weird back… and though it didn't look very appetizing to him, the girl looked really happy with it. She even did a small victory dance after the first bit. He let a chuckle. Who would look like that while eating something that looked like this? He covered his smile with his hand. Actually, she was kind of cute now that he was looking at her.

"Oh..." the image vanished. He was a bit disappointed.

Now what should he do? The wizard's secret was out of the bag. A link to another world, a strange girl. The mechanics of the world always amazed him, but what was thrilling him the most was the idea of another world, the opportunity to escape from a life he did not consider particularly exciting. Finding a rift and not trying to use it… The Wizard was a strange man. If he had his powers and if he wanted to see a girl to the point of not eating properly because he was thinking of her, he would do everything he could to cross to the other side.

"Luciel..."

Ah, he hated that name. Smile… Smile… He forced one to his face almost naturally. His master was there followed by that man. He looked restless, his long dark brown hair here tied back, his bangs here falling falling messily into his face. He looked restless or was he pissed? What was that man thinking? Falling for an unknown girl while he was good looking and powerful enough to take any bride he wanted. Keeping something like that to himself, shouldn't it be be considered selfish?

"Victor..." "What are you doing her?" "Ah… I just felt like I was needing fresh air." "You should not come here..."

So that man finally spoke to him after ignoring him all this time. The flustered expression on his face brought a strange sense of satisfaction to the young mage. Maybe he could make use of this. He grinned.

"I thought I would find Elizabeth here, but she was with you all along! Come here, Elly!"

He was ready to hug the fluffy, white cat when her owner blocked his way. His onyx eyes looked at him coldly. Elizabeth hid under his purple cloak. He started back, almost challenging for a moment and then smiled widely. It was clear that this man would never want to share anything precious to him, but at the same time he didn't seem to know how it was to loose something precious.

"Come on! Just a hug!" he laughed. "Go-away," he hissed. "Ivan..."

The stern voice of his friend made him back down. The look on his face softened as Victor shook his head in disappointment. He looked down, a bit embarrassed and then picked up his cat softly, not before giving him one last warning look.

"Victor, as I said, you are welcomed to stay at my castle as long as you wish… But this is my special place. I don't really want an outsider walking around freely." "OK… Ok… There is no need to worry… It's not like I will steal your girl!" he said.

He almost regretted saying that. As much as he was hoping for a reaction, he could not expect one like that. He took a step back nervously. This man's glare felt so empty… It was... frightening. Were they the eyes of a man who was ready to do everything for the things he thought he owned?

"Elizabeth is clearly yours after all," he continued.

The man paused for a moment as he heard these words. It seemed that he realized that he had overreacted for no reason. He looked at the red haired man silent for a moment, the lowered his glare and then gazed at his cat who was meowing in his hard. His fingers run through her white fur gently. He let a weak smile.

"That's a fact. Elizabeth will never betray me," he muttered, the cat meowed in response. "Victor… No matter how much I like you, I'd like you to keep your aide in check. Well then, I bit you goodnight. I'll make sure your rooms will be ready for the night."

He turned his back to them and left.

"So cold," he commented but stopped after seeing Victor glaring at him. "I know, I know… my bad," he held up his arm condescendingly. "Please, don't rill up trouble," Victor warned him before following his friend to the castle.

He stood there. His smile had vanished.

"It's not like I was trying to!" he cried. "It's not like I was trying to..." he repeated and looked at the lake. "But I can not promise anything..."

Note: I thought that the use or the names Victor and Ivan were not confusing for use. I thought I used use different names for the magic world. Victor somehow felt appropriate for V. Also his character design kind of reminded him Victor from Yuri on Ice and I thought it suited him. As for Jumin, I found out that the name meaning was similar to that of the name John, but I went for the Russian Ivan anyway, instead of keeping the J. Somehow it sounded more fitted for a wizard.

That's it. Thanks for reading!

#jumin han #jumin #mysme jumin #mystic messenger #jumin x mc #mysme seven #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme

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fandom-imagines-stories · 7 years ago

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Day Off

Tenth Doctor x Reader

Words: 1395

Warning: A ridiculous amount of fluff ahead.

Summary: You make a bet with the Doctor that he can't have fun without the TARDIS or space traveling of any kind. He accepts your challenge and the two of you spend the day doing actual human things. What could go wrong?

Notes: Nothing much for this one… hello! (One thing though, I’ve never been to London, so some locations are going to kind of be based on places I’ve been in the U.S.)

Imagines Masterlist

“Where to today?” The Doctor inquired, pressing buttons and pulling levers all over the TARDIS. You leaned against the rail, watching his enthusiasm with amusement. You, however, were exhausted and in the mood for a nice long day at home. You loved traveling with the Doctor and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the universe, but there were some days you just wanted to kick back, relax, and catch up on your favorite show on the telly.

“Do you think we could just stay at my place today?” You wondered. His face fell into a frown.

“Is everything alright?” He wondered, walking around the console to you. You laughed and nodded.

“Everything’s fine. I just thought, maybe, we could take a day off or something.” You shrugged.

“A day off from what exactly?” He wondered, his face scrunching up the way it did when he was trying to figure something out.

“I just thought we could take a break. You know, do something fun without being in mortal peril.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He exclaimed and you snickered.

“You know, I bet that I can be just as much fun as you without the TARDIS.” You challenged. He raised a brow.

“Oh really? Let’s make a wager, shall we? We can spend the entire day doing your dull human things and if I don’t have even the tiniest bit of fun…” He thought of what the stakes could be and grinned, “I get to pick the most ridiculous outfit out of the TARDIS wardrobe and you have to wear it for an entire day, no matter where we go.”

“And if you have fun?” You asked.

“Then you get to pick an outfit for me.” He held out his hand and you took it with confidence. He winked at you. “Alright, Earth Girl. Dazzle me.”

This was going to be harder than you thought. After traveling through time and space, normal things just didn’t seem as interesting. That didn’t stop you from planning a day full of different things, all you hoped the Doctor would enjoy. You’d seen the inside of that closet and you were not going to let him win.

“I was thinking we could go out for breakfast and spend the morning exploring.” You explained and he watched you with his famous smirk on his lips. Truthfully, he knew that he would have fun anywhere as long as he was with you, but he thought he’d indulge the bet and was eager to see what you had in store for him.

Breakfast was at your favorite cafe just down the street from your apartment. He kept up the facade of frowns and bored sighs as the two of you ate while you walked around. It was a beautiful day, with people bustling about, cars zipping by, and the next stop on your little adventure coming just around the corner.

“Is this what I think it is?” The Doctor grinned, but quickly faked a scowl.

“Well, you love creatures of all shapes and sizes, so I thought it might be fun to hang out with some furrier friends for a change.” You took his hand, beaming as you walked into the pet store. The man at the register greeted you with a big smile.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hey Ollie.” He came around the counter and pulled you into a bone crushing hug. The man was the size of a lumberjack and he had a big heart to match. A lot of the animals in his shop were rescued puppies or kittens whose owners wanted to get rid of. You actually used to work here, before you met the Doctor. You’d told Ollie all about your adventures- he was into the whole space and time thing. Very few things phased him, actually, some of which included curly fries and haggis.

“Why are we in a pet store?” The Doctor asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. You shrugged and gave him a mischievous smile.

“I thought we could… check the new recruits and make sure that they’re okay for families to take home.” You flashed Ollie a grin and he rolled his eyes.

“You can just say you want to play with the puppies.” He opened up the back door and you were greeted by the sound of countless barks and meows. “Follow me.” You smirked back at the Doctor and took his hand, pulling him back with you. His eyes lit up. He was a sucker for the cute and fuzzy. There was a small room where people could meet the animals before they bought them.

“So? What do you think?” You asked. He shrugged.

“Not bad.” Ollie brought in a small chocolate lab and a black and white kitten. The Doctor couldn’t hide his enthusiasm as the cat crawled up on his shoulder. “Hello there.” He grinned and pet the kitten as you played tug-of-war with the puppy.

“That smile betrays you.” You pointed out. “You, Doctor, are having fun.”

“I’m not confessing anything.” He argued, but his expression definitely gave him away. The two of you continued to play with the adorable creatures, Ollie occasionally bringing in another pet. By the end, the Doctor was almost reluctant to leave without taking all of the animals back to the TARDIS. He shoved his hands into his trench coat pockets and turned to you. “Where to next?” He asked as you called a black cab.

“Well, I figured we should do at least one touristy thing today.” The two of you got in the cab and he asked where you were going. You gave the Doctor a smirk. “The London Eye.”

You felt like you were on top of the world. Sure, it was nothing compared to the feeling of stepping into a different time or onto a different planet, but it would suffice. The Doctor stood beside you, neither of you saying anything. Just taking in the view.

“So…” You wiggled your eyebrows. “Ready to admit defeat.” He chuckled.

“Nope.” He stuck out his tongue at you and you groaned in irritation. He was impossible. As the compartment started to come back down towards the ground, you felt like you were running out of time.

The last thing on your list was simple. Spending the night back at your apartment, binge eating all the junk food you could find, and watching old sci-fi movies while lounging on your sofa. You laid your head on the Doctor’s chest as an explosion took over the screen. You grabbed a handful of peanut M&Ms and stuffed them into your mouth. Honestly, all of the planning had made you exhausted and it was beginning to be difficult to keep your eyes open. The Doctor had an arm around your shoulders as you hugged his torso, snuggling on your sofa and not really paying much attention to the movie.

You yawned and let your eyes flutter shut, listening to the constant beating of his hearts. He sighed blissfully and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

“You win.” He whispered and you smiled in victory. “I must admit, I wish we could have brought one of those kittens back here. The TARDIS could use a pet.” You laughed.

“Maybe next time.”

“I’m not coming out.” The Doctor shouted. You crossed your arms over your chest, impatiently tapping your foot.

“We had a deal.” You yelled back. He peeked his head out of the door.

“I look ridiculous!”

“You’re the one who came up with this deal in the first place.” You shrugged. He sighed and stepped out. You burst out laughing. You’d chosen a pair of bright red plaid pants, a patterned shirt, and a fur vest.

“How long do I have to wear this?” He whined. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Oh come on now, I think you look handsome.” You snickered. He shook his head but couldn’t help but smile.

“You are going to be the end of me.” He leaned down to press his lips to yours. You pulled away from the kiss giggling like a schoolgirl. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” You laughed. “I just can’t take you seriously in that outfit.”

“Shut up.” He laughed as well and pulled you back in for another kiss.

Yes, that is a total reference to the outfit from Decoy Bride. You’re welcome

#david tennant #the tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #doctor who imagine #decoy bride #cute #david tennant and kittens

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thebookiemonster14 · 7 years ago

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PITCH WARS: Boost My Bio (or not)

So this is a little different to what I normally post, but it’s for a Twitter challenge called Pitch Wars, where you can submit your manuscript to an experienced writer/agent/editor for mentoring! (if that sounds like something you’re interested in you should totally check it out!)

my twitter [< link here!!!] is @/bookiemonster14 if you wanna check it out!

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT DOING PITCH WARS THIS YEAR. I thought that I might do it back when I finished Draft 3 of my MS, which I will be calling FIREBOOK on this post, but then I got a million ideas for Draft 4 and also I’m starting uni in September and I’m JUST SO BUSY so this is just to make friends!

So, without further ado. . .

ABOUT MY MANUSCRIPT - formal

In an alternate London, a date on your arm reveals the day you will die. Most think this is thanks to destiny, but in truth a group of state-sponsored assassins called the Fates collect these dates then kill the owner when it comes around.

Ezra is a death-fearing teenager and brother to Verity Vynson, the leader of the Fates. He knows too much about the Fates, and his cowardice paralyses him into accepting their murderous ways - until he falls in love with one of his targets.

“People like us, we live life with no strings attached. If you do make any knots, you have to cut the rope yourself, no matter how painful it is to watch the other person fall.”

ABOUT MY MANUSCRIPT - informal

4th draft M/M speculative fiction, V For Vendetta meets They Both Die At The End

It features. . .

a Slytherin protagonist!

a (named) bi protagonist!

an emotionally repressed protagonist!

(it’s not just me i promise)

a conceptual twist on the “assassin falls in love w. target” trope

lots and lots of moral ambiguity

a story that focuses on choosing to live against all odds

people being set on fire

a dysfunctional family

me viciously retconning homophobia out of the church

a kind of old England on fire aesthetic

the main character developing and understanding PTSD

is safe captivity better than uncertain liberty?

Characters:

EZRA VYNSON. Reluctant government worker who quashes his doubts about the Fates in favour of keeping his head down and doing what has to be done. The greater good is not a concept he understands. Here is a thing he wants: to stay out of trouble. Here is a thing he fears: death or discovery – he’s not sure which one terrifies him more.

JUDE LYONS. Devoted to church and not much else, though that’s because he won’t live long enough for other things to be worthwhile. Here is a thing he wants: meaning. Here is a thing he fears: that life holds none of it.

VERITY VYNSON. Ezra’s sister and highest ranking member of the Fates. Only knows loyalty from her head; her heart stays cold and tieless. The definition of lawful evil. Here is a thing she wants: to do what needs to be done. Here is a thing she fears: failing at her own role in the game.

and more!

Inspiration for FIREBOOK. . .

a buzzfeed quiz lmao

the great library series by rachel caine

reece king’s face (aka my no1 ezra fc!)

the entire black parade album

buzzcut season by lorde

ABOUT ME

hi i’m an awkward 18 year old who loves food & cats & adam parrish

the only straight i am is straight-up annoying

i’m a mancunian and very very proud of it

it’s physically impossible for me to write an unproblematic protagonist

i’m studying english language and politics at university in september!

somehow i’ve become obsessed with love island over this summer

i’m mildly synesthetic

i started writing FIREBOOK in autumn 2016 and i’m on draft 4 now but have also completed 5 1/2 other ms since draft 1 of it

#writing #lgbt books #booklr #writeblr #writeblogging #pitch wars

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orbemnews · 4 years ago

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A Push to Move the Golf Course Atop a Native American ‘Stonehenge’ NEWARK, Ohio — The third hole here at the Moundbuilders Country Club is a tricky par 4: The green is protected by a six-foot-high mound that almost completely encircles the hole and requires a deft chip shot to clear if your approach shot goes awry. “It’s a blind shot,” said Randol Mitchell, the club’s head golf professional, after driving his ball a good chunk of the hole’s 435 yards. “You have to watch out for those mounds.” The topography of the course is built around the mounds, which were prescribed by the cosmology of the Native Americans who created them approximately 2,000 years ago as a way to measure the movement of the sun and the moon through the heavens. But now the club, which has leased the land for more than a century, is being asked to relocate so that the mounds can be properly embraced as an archaeological treasure, a move club members understand — they have preserved the mounds for generations — but one that they say will be difficult for them to undertake unless representatives of the state kick up the ante for the cost of creating a new golf venue. The $1.7 million amount the state’s representatives have proposed under eminent domain is up from an initial offer of $800,000. But the club wants $12 million. The dispute heads to the Ohio Supreme Court on Tuesday. The historical import of the site is clear. The U.S. Department of the Interior has already selected the land for nomination as a UNESCO World Heritage site, as part of a larger proposed bid to recognize some of the similar sites in Ohio, known as the Hopewell Ceremonial Earthworks. Many of the golfers say they embrace that importance, too, even if they have indelicately nicknamed one eight-foot mound “Big Chief.” The club has a scrapbook that tracks the history of the earthworks, known as the Octagon Earthworks, back to their creation. The clubhouse features a painting and photographs of the mounds. Golfers are barred from driving carts over them except on paved paths. Still, if one were to encounter a ball perched atop the ancient earthworks, there is no ban on whacking at it with a 3-iron. “On many golf courses, water, woods and sand create natural challenges,” David Kratoville, the president of the club’s board of trustees, said. “Here, it’s the mounds.” There were once hundreds of major earthworks built by people of the Hopewell culture, which refers to the moundbuilding groups of Native Americans who lived in North America from about 100 B.C.E. to 500 C.E. But their value wasn’t recognized until recent years, and many were destroyed. Created one basketful of earth at a time, using pointed sticks and clamshell hoes, the mounds at the golf course are part of the broader Newark Earthworks and widely embraced as an astronomical and geometric marvel. Once every 18.6 years, if you stand atop the course’s observatory mound and look up the line of parallel mounds toward the octagonal area, something spectacular happens. When the rising moon reaches its northernmost position, it hovers above the octagon’s exact center, within one-half of a degree. The alignments are no less sophisticated than the arranged stones at Stonehenge, experts say. Members of the Hopewell culture likely intended the earthworks, which can only be fully appreciated from above, to show their moon and sun gods that they understood their movements, said Ray Hively, a professor emeritus of astronomy and physics at Earlham College in Richmond, Ind. The effort might have been an attempt to connect with or communicate with the powers which appeared to control the larger universe, said Hively, who discovered these alignments with a philosophy professor, Robert Horn, in the 1980s. In 1892, Licking County and the City of Newark, about 40 miles east of Columbus, allowed the state to use the land as an encampment for the Ohio National Guard. But after the camp closed, they reclaimed it and leased it to the club in 1910. A noted golf architect, Thomas Bendelow, who designed America’s first 18-hole public golf course, Van Cortlandt Park, in the Bronx, laid out a course that by 1911 had turned the ancient moon markers into errant shot adversaries. “The ancient Moundbuilders unwittingly left behind the setting for as strange and sporty a golf course as ever felt the blow of a niblick,” an article about the course in the January 1930 issue of Golf Illustrated proclaimed. The course itself, with a slope rating of 119, is medium difficult, though no one would ever confuse it for Jack Nicklaus’s Muirfield Village Golf Club (slope 130), which sit 40 miles to the west. Mitchell said the mounds are a more formidable obstacle than they at first appear. “It’s hard to shoot what you normally shoot here,” he said. “Even though, on paper, it shouldn’t be that hard.” Efforts to fully recognize the significance of the mounds as more than unusual golf hazards date back roughly two decades to a period when a bid to build a new clubhouse, whose foundation would have dug into the mounds, was denied. At that point, a group led by local professors and Native Americans organized a protest campaign — and some residents began questioning whether the course should exist at all. Then, as now, the club’s unwillingness to make way for worldwide recognition of the site drew criticism. “We wouldn’t want a country club on the Acropolis,” John N. Low, a citizen of the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi Indians and the director of the Newark Earthworks Center, said in a recent interview. “We don’t want a country club on the Octagon.” Club members have long argued that the criticism is unfair, that the holdup is caused by an unwillingness to respect that the club has some history too, and that it could not continue to exist at the amounts being offered to give up its lease. “Everyone would love to portray us as rich fat cats,” Ralph Burpee, the club’s former general manager, told The New York Times in 2005. “Well, this is Newark, Ohio, which pretty much precludes rich fat cats.” Kratoville described the club’s roughly 300 current members as belonging to “a blue-collar country club.” “Our members are people like plumbers,” he said, “and they come out for a day and clean up sand traps and plant flowers.” The owner of the property today is the Ohio History Connection, a statewide nonprofit organization that contracts with the state to oversee more than 50 historic sites. The nonprofit has leased the property to the club since acquiring it in 1933 and hosts four open houses at the club each year, which before the pandemic included guided tours of the mounds. The property is also open to the public on Mondays or when the weather is unsuitable for golf. The rest of the year, visitors must view the mounds from an elevated platform near the parking area. The History Connection would like to convert the site into a public park and submit it for recognition as a World Heritage site, as a place of “outstanding value to humanity,” alongside others, like the Taj Mahal and the Grand Canyon. “We feel an obligation on behalf of Ohio taxpayers to responsibly protect and interpret the site’s historic value,” Burt Logan, the History Connection’s executive director and chief executive, said. “And we hope we’ll finally be able to do that soon.” But without full public access to the site, federal officials have said a World Heritage nomination would be impossible. The Moundbuilders’ lease runs through 2078. And though Kratoville said the club was willing to move, the History Connection and the club were millions of dollars apart. In 2018, the History Connection took the club to court in a bid to acquire the lease via eminent domain. Two lower courts have ruled in the History Connection’s favor, and now it is up to the Ohio Supreme Court to consider whether the nonprofit has the right to buy out the remainder of the lease. The History Connection, formerly known as the Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Society, last used eminent domain about a century ago to acquire several acres of earthworks 100 miles south of the Octagon site. The country club is arguing that the History Connection did not negotiate in “good faith,” which is required before a taking under eminent domain, and that the public purpose being served — an expanded program of research, education services and preservation — could be accomplished without ending the lease of a major employer. Zachary J. Murry, an Ohio lawyer who specializes in eminent domain cases, said the court may be unwilling to take on the role of deciding which of the competing public purposes is better because policy determinations are typically made by other branches of government. But if the court did assume that role, one question would be, he said, whether operating as a public park and the prospect of becoming a world-recognized wonder was a sufficient rationale to warrant the taking now, when the recognition has not yet been granted. “This ‘conditional’ necessity seems problematic,” he said. If the club does move, Kratoville said he was unsure whether the Moundbuilders County Club would keep its name. But it would certainly not try to recreate the mounds, he said. “You can’t do that,” he said. “It would be a different course.” The Supreme Court is only tasked with deciding the eminent domain issue. If the History Connection is found to have the right to take over the lease, compensation would be hashed out at a later date in a lower court — an amount Murry said would ultimately likely fall somewhere between the two appraisals. Glenna Wallace, the first female chief of the Eastern Shawnee Tribe of Oklahoma, who considers the moundbuilders her ancestors, said the dispute goes beyond monetary value. World Heritage recognition for the earthworks — and full public access — would play a crucial role in reframing the way visitors think about Native Americans, she said. “The sophistication required to create this shows my ancestors weren’t savages,” she said. “This needs to be open to people every single day of the week, every single day of the year.” Source link Orbem News #American #atop #golf #move #native #Push #Stonehenge

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