#Malcolm Tent

[transmissionsfromthebattlefield]

DEVOtion, Day One

DEVOTIONAL. I called it “a bunch of nerds in a room” last year, and I stand by my previous classification of this excruciatingly nerdy event. Keep it wack, Cleveland.

But indulging in nerdy activities also allows one to see some impressive musical acts, engage in fascinating conversation, and see friends old and new that you’ve been waiting the whole year to get all in their faces calling them what they are: “NERRRRDS.” In short, it’s one of the most weekends of the year.

Fridays at DEVOtional are usually held in the tavern of the Beachland Ballroom, yet so many tickets sold this year that they had to move it to the main room. It was truly surreal. Yet it worked like a charm, and if anything, it just extends the excitement of Saturday, so if it’s what we gotta do to get all those nerds in that goddamn room, I’m good with it.

A good pal of mine, Malcolm Tent, truly opened this year’s installation with a set of “unwanted DEVO songs.” He’d been advertising it on Facebook for at least a week leading up to the event, and it definitely lived up to the hype. While I expected an acoustic set from the times he’s previously played DEVOtional, he instead unleashed a slew of mind-crushing electronic loops straight out of the rubber factory as he gestured the lyrics to “I Desire” like twisted spoken word. David Kendrick, who drummed for DEVO, frankly obliterated the skins for the last half of the set as Malcolm shredded his yowling electric guitar with a loose drumstick. It was beautiful, and dare I say it was the best set of the weekend. But we’ll get to Fight Milk in a bit.

Malcolm was also the one who recruited me to create the art for the back of an album exclusive to this DEVOtional, DEVOted. It’s an intentionally bootleggy compilation of live tracks from past years, and it’s pretty damn DEVO all around. I’m proud of how my back cover turned out, and I’m glad I was able to lend a hand.

The BIG news was this year’s most esteemed first-time attendee, Mark Mothersbaugh himself. I remember the state of disbelief I was in when I saw his name on the DEVOtional flyer when it was first made public. Just about everyone who has ever gone to a DEVOtional had been going back and forth about Mark’s not being there for years, and he finally decided to give it a shot. There he was on Friday night, taking videos of bands on his phone and excitedly talking with his loyal followers. When I reminded him that I fake-punched him in New York last May by waving my fist at him, he took my wrist and yanked it at his chin and made me actually sock him. I could actually feel it in my fingers for a few minutes afterwards. During one of the bands I looked across the room and saw him take a giant bite out of the sleeve someone’s copy of oh, no! it’s DEVO. After the weekend was over I got to see photos on Facebook of him with other people’s phones in his mouth. He. Got. CRUUUUUNK. And it was glorious.

Max got to nerd out to him about Mark’s brother Jim’s old school electronic drum kit from the seventies, and Mark filmed him doing it, so that footage exists on Mark’s phone. Ah, technology.

Very serious.

The Akronauts, who mixed energetic DEVO covers with originals, followed Malcolm. They brought the fun and the funky basslines. Poopy Necroponde, who turned my brain inside out last year, followed, though this year they probably got closer to blowing my ears out! I’m glad my ears got the break they deserved after this weekend, especially from Morgan PC’s hardcore de-vo squelches and voiceboxes! Both bands really bought the fashion, with white jumpsuits and neon blue berets respectively. The latter’s bass player remains one of the coolest women in existence with her stage presence alone.

I completely missed Weird Paul Petroskey’s closing set, which I’d been highly anticipating, because I was too busy having a conversation with an old school University of Akron alum outside, so I bought some of Paul’s CDs to make up for it. That was a reoccurring theme of the weekend: missing things because I was too busy being engaged in gripping talk with cool elders.

For such a shakeup, it ran smoothly as ever. Every act was energized to the max, and there was really was plenty of great conversation to have, whether it was with old friends, new friends, or Mark Mothersbaugh hopped up on Bloody Marys. It was a pretty damn great prelude to the jam packed Saturday that followed.

Also, look at how cute we are!

[wrinkleintime]

enterprise text posts: featuring trip (and friends) in Situations

[sunlightmurdock]

The Odyssey | 1.0 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Bradley spends the night. Venice changes things.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, explicit pictures, making out, arguing, deception, 18+ minors dni, wc: 5.2k

…

“Sure,” There’s this underlying feeling that he should feel more awkward about this than he does. If he thought too hard about it, he would certainly start to consider the more embarrassing side of the predicament he has found himself in. “If you want.”

When the main focus of his day, for the past four years, has been sex in its various forms, it comes to be such a natural topic, that sometimes Bradley forgets that it’s a taboo. Well, he had been able to forget, until he came across you.

He must be out of his mind. Something to do with the phase of the moon, or his sleeping patterns, or… just the way you’re fucking looking at him. Your skin flushed with heat. He can see you’re warm without touching. Those soft sounds you made for him are fresh in his mind.

You’re sitting on the bed in front of him, one knee crossed over the other in your sweet, patterned wrap dress, staring up at him with eyes teaming with curiosity, and shame. So much, all at once. He can see you, sitting there and making it so complicated, frightening yourself.

It’s all so simple, really. He just wants to make it simple for you.

He starts by clearing his throat and shooting a glance downward at his tented jeans. “You don’t have to touch—“

“I just want to see… one… up close.” You tell him, heat spreading across your cheeks as you lift your gaze to look him in the eye. The sound of your own desires out loud is something that makes you shudder. You pull back slightly, and shift against the bed.

Bradley’s eyes dart downward again, at the pried open zipper, torn loose belt, and the straining bulge in his jeans, then presses his lips together in a moment of silent consideration.

With you, he has never been so unsure of himself.

“How long have you been engaged for, again?” He asks you, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. Your eyes widen just slightly. Not because you’re a woman being reminded of her infidelity, something else entirely. Something about Malcolm, Bradley just knows it.

“Alright, alright,” Bradley sighs, considering briefly how a person should go about this. His art classes come to mind — he stood naked pretty freely then, this is no different to that. Except he wasn’t supposed to be hard in those classes. “Don’t feel like you have to do anything.”

You push yourself upright as he steps off of the bed and squares his shoulders slightly. Hands settled politely in your lap and your posture perfect, Bradley can’t pretend he isn’t a little bit thrown off. It doesn’t change anything.

Sex and curiosity are natural forces, and neither one are something to be ashamed of. He feels like he’s convincing himself of that more than anything.

Your attention is caught by the light from the lamp catching on the gold of his necklace as he stands up a little straighter, and then promptly torn away as he pushes his jeans and boxers down in one slow movement. And there it is. In your peripheral, you’re expressly aware that it’s there, in all of its aggressiveness. You fight not to just stare.

Following the line down his sternum and across the taut, tanned skin of his stomach, across plains of soft brown hair, your eyes grow wide once again. Then, you squint. He watches you fight to control your expression.

The question is written, quite clearly, all over Bradley’s face. He’s wondering how you have managed to be in a relationship for as long as you have, without seeing a penis in the flesh. But you have. You’re not that naive — and Malcolm isn’t that pliant.

You inhale slowly, staring at what is directly in front of you. Bradley’s body is unassuming under those ill-fitting clothes, but not once he’s out of them. Far from it, in fact. Another time, you might have spent more time looking at the big picture, exactly how Herculean Bradley’s body looks. For now, it’s hard to focus on anything but what’s between his legs.

Bradley hasn’t ever felt this fidgety with his clothes off before. Your gaze on him makes him nervous — and that’s weird — he can’t remember the last time a woman made him nervous. Actually, he can, but that was a long time ago.

Your eyes look dark in the dim illusion of the dust-brushed lamp, and the streetlights outside. A thatch of neatly-trimmed dark hair sits across his pelvis, following down from the line of his navel, sitting perfectly between the two deep V’s that trail from his hips.

There’s a moment before you remind yourself to feel some shame in the unabashed way you’re staring at him like some kind of drooling loon. Blinking, you lift your chin and look him in the eye, pressing your thighs together.

He isn’t looking at you like there’s something wrong with you. After observing the almost perverse way you were studying him, he’s watching you with nothing in his eyes but faint amusement.

You know instantly that he wouldn’t hold this against you. Anything you chose to do, or not to do, he wouldn’t feel any differently about you either way. You’re certain. That doesn’t change anything. You sigh and lean back on your palms.

“You’re circumsized.” You note.

His mouth twitches as he pulls his jeans back up to cover himself again. “It was all the rage in ‘53.”

Your brows scrunch together just slightly, watching him buckle his belt. “You’re older than Sports Illustrated, you know that?”

Bradley seems to think for a moment. He can’t pretend to have been familiar with Sports Illustrated in his childhood more than seeing it being read by fathers of friends that he had.

“How do you know when that was? — Didn’t peg you as a fan.” Bradley reaches around you for his shirt.

“I wrote a piece on it in my Freshman year. It was my first Ivy League perfect score.” You tell him, but when he turns, you aren’t smiling. His mouth pulls down at the corners as he sinks fo his knees in front of you, brushing his fingers softly over your cheek. “My father tore it to shreds. He was so angry about what I had written.”

Bradley sets his shirt on the ground and squeezes your knee softly. “What was it about?”

“Daddy has been an investor in the magazine since 1961,” You explain to him, your mouth finally twitching up into a small, less-than-amused smile. Bradley’s thumbs circle soft patterns along your thighs. “I wrote a case study into the swimsuit issue, and the argument that it presents women as a product for consumption. He was furious. I thought he was going to throw his dinner at me.”

Bradley’s face changes. He doesn’t like the way you’re telling him this with a smile on your face. But, he isn’t going to start an argument about your father tonight.

“Which side of the argument did your essay fall on?” He asks, lifting his chin to look at you. You smile at him, and shrug your shoulders.

“I thought it was a dirty magazine then, I think that it’s a dirty magazine now.”

Bradley huffs out a small sound of amusement and lets his head fall forwards to rest against your knee. “One of these days, I’m going to get a real answer out of you. You know that?”

He wants to know more, and the idea for once doesn’t terrify you. Your mouth tugs at a smile as he kisses your leg softly.

“Will you still stay tonight?” You ask him, lifting your chin to look up at his face. He makes a soft sound of consideration, then pulls a face. “Please?”

“Okay.”

It’s strange, and you know that Bradley would think so, that you have never shared a bed with a man overnight before. Back in Ithaca, you’ve got a spacious off-campus room in a three bedroom apartment that your father pays for and never visits. Malcolm could stay over ever night for all anyone else knows.

But, you have never invited him to.

It would be cruel to make Bradley sleep in his clothes, you know that too. So, when you come back from the bathroom with the taste of peppermint toothpaste on your tongue, and slip into bed beside him, you try to be prepared for it.

It’s not so bad. It’s a mild night, the window is cracked and there’s a chilled breeze passing through the room. Bradley’s bare arm is warm as yours grazes it. Reaching out blindly, you flick the bedside lamp off without opening your eyes.

Beside you, Bradley’s mouth pulls at the corners.

“Are you going to stay over there all night?” He asks into the dark. He hears you fidget, your skin brushing against the sheets.

“Yeah.”

He snorts a soft chuckle and turns onto his side, draping a heavy arm across your middle, curling his fingers around your hip. Your muscles spasm and your middle goes rigid as he drags you unceremoniously closer to him, leaving you with no choice but to consider how he feels without his clothes on.

Arms straight, practically statuesque, your attempts to remain still fail as the knuckle of your ring and little fingers graze the white cotton of his boxers.

His warm breath fans across your shoulder as he pulls you closer, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “Relax, honey. It’s just me.”

His palm splays open across your front, his bare chest firm against your back. Calvin Klein white cotton boxers are loose, and breathable, and through the dark your mind instantly takes you back to what you saw earlier.

Wetting your lips with your tongue, you close your eyes and will yourself to settle. Behind you, Bradley doesn’t seem to be having the same struggle. You can hear his breathing growing deeper, his weight leaning into you just a little more.

The Polaroid picture. His thick thighs bracketing Natasha’s naked chest. Her lips parted into a perfect circle. You think of how he made you feel earlier, him grunting into your skin as his hand worked under the thick denim of his jeans.

“Why’s your heart beating like that?” Bradley mumbles into the curve of your neck, practically making you jolt out of your skin against him. “Hey, hey… are you alright?”

His hand strokes softly at your arm as he lifts his head and tries to lean forward to get a peek at your face.

“Mhm,” You squeak softly, closing your eyes and pressing back against him. “I’m fine. Goodnight.”

His lips quirk through the dark of the room as he hugs his arm tight around your middle, turning his face into your skin and kissing softly at your neck.

You don’t wake with the sunrise, or with the sound of an alarm. Instead, you wake with a tingling in your legs, and skin against your cheek. Your thigh is slotted between Bradley’s, he’s got one arm cradling you to him, and he’s snoring softly in your ear.

Even with a soft groan, and the attempt to stretch your arms, Bradley doesn’t budge. His warm chest rises and falls against your cheek, the smell of his skin drawing you in like a lullaby. Sleep threatens to come for you again, but you can hear birds chirping. It’s got to be time to get up soon.

He must be on the verge of consciousness himself, hugging you closer, turning his nose toward your hair, nuzzling into your skin.

“Bradley?” You hum. Nothing but birds chirping, breeze from the city outside. “Bradley?” As you nudge him, there’s nothing again.

Pushing against his chest, you wriggle free of his grasp and prop yourself on your palm. He blinks, face pulling into a frown as he lifts his head to look around him.

“What’s up? — What time is it?” He mutters, his voice deep with sleep as his brown eyes try to focus through the morning light. You don’t know, and you make no effort to check. Instead, you lean forwards and kiss his lips. One soft peck, your palm bracing against the hot muscle of his chest.

He hums out a pleased noise, following you onto your back and pressing his weight against you, challenging you with a deeper kiss. Bradley kisses you again, just as soft. Building into it with gradually modern generous pecks. His hands bunch at your nightgown, taking advantage of his new shorter length to shove it up around your waist without issue.

Suddenly, it doesn’t matter what time it is anymore. Or that he never rejoined the group last night. Nothing matters but the way his weight feels on top of you, his warmth grounding you into the mattress, his taut stomach pressing against your soft skin as he slots his thigh between yours.

There’s something familiar about it, creeping at you like a chill. His hands are strictly stuck to the safest parts of your body: your thighs, your waist, your face. He’s kissing you so passionately that you’re dizzy with the sense of him, and he’s so gentle with his hands — but there’s a discomfort itching at you that just won’t leave.

Then, the alarm clock on the bedside table rings out loud. He pulls back with a soft breath.

“I… I should go.” He realizes, trying not to commit too much attention to his half-hard cock pressing into your thigh. You swallow softly, trying to do exactly the same.

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon.” He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. As he busies himself with getting dressed, you’re certain that you should be overcome with shame of the things you’ve gotten up to so far. The feeling just doesn’t come. Some grand delay, or perhaps you’ve turned a page, but you can’t find it in you to mind either.

The itinerary for the day is changed by Natasha’s sudden appearance, just like everything else has been. With her and Doctor Mancini being in town, Bradley seemed to think that their insight would be useful for the group. As he walks into the lobby ten minutes later than he should be and spots her standing with her arms folded, looking at you like dirt on her shoe, he starts to think that he was wrong.

“Ah, here he is! — Good Morning, Bradley.” Pasquale greets with a grin, patting Bradley’s shoulder as the professor joins the group. “Well, we’ve already gone over the briefing and we’ve got a lot to see today. Let’s get going!”

Bradley agrees with a nod and gestures for the group to walk ahead of him. The sun is already high in the sky and warming the city, the breeze is slow today, barely there. It’ll be worse when they move further inland after this.

He pushes one hand into his pocket and sweeps his damp curls back with the other. Ray-Ban caravans and a t-shirt that would only fit right if he was a size bigger, sports socks peeking over the top of his eye tops. He dresses younger than thirty-three and he’s always been gorgeous.

Natasha walks by his side, staring at the back of your head with contempt. Cute outfit you’re wearing. She wonders if the man who put a ring on your finger would like it.

“So, did you take her virginity?” She asks coolly, meaning it with every ounce of venom with which she had spit it. She hadn’t really taken great comfort in hearing the way your peers had mocked you last night. Just because you apparently won’t put out for you fiancé, doesn’t mean you are immune to Bradley’s charms.

“No.” He answers, lengthening his stride. He doesn’t care to learn which one of them told her about you.

“This is a new low. I can’t believe you’re being this stupid.” She shakes her head, crossing her arms firmly over her chest as she walks.

All at once, Bradley stops walking and rounds on her. She wobbles, her expensive loafer dipping between the cobbled floor and making her wobble. “Me? — What the fuck were you trying to pull with those pictures?”

When he’s up close, standing under the summer sun and staring at her, it’s so easy to pretend. Looking into his eyes, he never hurt her. She never hurt him. She’s still his girl, they’re still planning to spend the afternoon laying in bed, reading.

It’s the only time that she doesn’t miss him.

“You know how this goes. Things in Como — we didn’t — I had more that I needed to say.” Bradley leaves every year hating himself for letting her get away, and it’s the only thing that brings her solace. She’s just supposed to watch him move on?

“That’s your problem, Nat, you don’t know how to talk to me until we’re naked. This isn’t healthy.” He bites back, unfazed as a crowd of Belgian tourists turn to stare wide eyed at the two of them.

“Don’t tell me what’s healthy, Bradley, you’re fucking one of your students!” She snaps, her voice practically a low snarl. Still, she has the decency to have lowered her voice. He forgets — she’s classy now.

“I’m not fucking her.” Bradley, truthfully, doesn’t have a leg to stand on. You tried to sleep with him and he told you no, but only because you weren’t ready. If you were, he can’t pretend that he wouldn’t have.

“Please. I saw the way you ran after her.”

“My sex life is none of your business. Does Luca know you’re here because I am? — Did he forgive you yet?” September through to May, Bradley thinks a lot about the time he spent loving Natasha. Guilt wracks his entire being. He finds himself furious for the time he cost her. And yet, standing in front of her, this conversation always winds up being the same.

Her eyes widen. He promised not to bring last summer up. Last august, when Bradley visited after his students went home, and Luca caught the two of them in bed together. He had almost left her.

“Does that poor little girl even kno—“

“Don’t call her that.” Bradley sighs, rolling his head back towards the old roofs and clear skies. The idea makes him so uncomfortable. It’s easy to forget, when he’s not looking at you in the backdrop of your college town, that you’re much younger.

“Does she know what a vindictive prick you can be, Bradley?”

Yes. She spent half of the trip so far arguing with me. Bradley doesn’t give her the real answer. He hasn’t in a long time. There’s a pause between the two of them. Venice doesn’t slow down for anyone. The city bustles around them while Bradley turns his gaze back down towards her.

“I’m sorry. You know that I’m sorry.” He says quietly. She stares at him. He can see it in her face that she’s fighting not to stand and scream. Instinct drives him forwards. It’s muscle memory as he reaches out and takes her face in his hands. “But we can’t keep doing this.”

Her jaw flexes against his palms, anger burning through her the way that smoke fills rooms. Effortless, all-encompassing. Hard to stop.

“You should tell her now,” Natasha practically spits the words towards him. She doesn’t pull away from his touch. She only ever has once. She, one day, will again. She’s sure of that much. “That it’s always on your fucking terms. Give her a chance to get out while she fucking can.”

With that, she pulls away from him and yet again, he watches her go.

Bradley keeps his distance. He watches Doctor Mancini, a man who knows exactly who Bradley is and somehow, loves him even after, teach the class all morning. He doesn’t dare look at you, in those short, rolled up blue Levi’s shorts. Not until that afternoon, once you’re tucked away into a quiet study room in the Marciana Library.

You sit opposite him with one knee bent and your foot resting on the edge of your own chair, watching him quizzically. “Are you going to be this quiet all afternoon?”

He shoots a look across at you, his chin resting on his palm. Then, he looks back down to his work silently.

“Fine, I guess I’ll fail.” You huff playfully, sitting back in your chest and crossing your arms over your chest. This time when he looks, his eyes flicker down to your chest in that cute green tank top. He knows you’re taunting him. “It’s a real shame… to have come this far, and to just be abandoned…”

“Cut it out.” Bradley scoffs, taking his glasses off and dropping them into the centre of his page. He turns in his seat and looks across at you, suddenly cold.

“Alright, say what you want to say. The anticipation is killing me.” Your mouth twitches into a grin as you sit upright in your seat, scooting it across the aged wood to grow closer. He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, the sun shining through the light blue fabric of his linen shirt as he stretches his arms up and rubs harshly at his face.

“There’s something I need to tell you — something I did,” When he drops his arms down again, his eyes are focused on the chip in the years old floorboard, his fingers curling around your knee. You’ve never seen him this remorseful. “I want you to hear it from me.”

Blinking, you nod at him. You’ve never seen him look quite so scared.

“When we met, Natasha and I were both twenty-two. I was fresh out of the Navy, and Natasha was in her last year of university here,” He hasn’t ever been this fidgety before. He stares at the floor of the library, like his sole purpose is to count the grains in the wood. The sole of his sneaker taps out of rhythm.

Opposite him, you wonder exactly how his brain operates. There’s no need, really, for him to explain himself to you. Tomorrow, you’ll leave Venice and you will probably never see Natasha again. Yet, he seems to really want you to understand.

“She was one of the only people in town that spoke English, and she lived right downstairs. For the first two months, she just let me follow her around — I didn’t know what else to do,” There’s no way on Earth that Bradley can explain to you the way that he was feeling when he first got to Sorrento.

He was twenty-two, he had just left the Navy. His grandmother had died three weeks earlier. He was alone in the world, with no idea what to do with the rest of his life. He was angry that he had made it back from the war — furious that he had served for a further two years after that.

“She pulled some favours for me, I spent six months taking different classes around the country, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Came back, and decided that I wanted to do with mine, whatever she was doing with hers.” The more he tells you, the more you can feel his guilt dripping through his words and saturating the air.

The room goes thick with quiet as Bradley sweeps his curls back and tousels his fingers through them. His hands can’t seem to find peace, never stilling as he immediately sits back to dip a hand into his pocket and reach for his cigarettes.

This is the kind of situation that requires you to be quiet, you know that much. It’s not of conversation. He’s clumsy enough with his words, stumbling through them, losing his train of thought, that you don’t dare interrupt. You watch him pluck one from the pack and set the rolled stick between his lips.

Flicking open the top of his silver lighter, he ignites the end and inhales. Briefly, his eyes flicker up to yours. He hates talking about this.

“She wanted to be an archeologist. I was more into the literature side of things, but it worked. We connected. We moved in together three weeks after I got back.” He tells you. You give him a small nod. It ticks over into the afternoon, and behind you a church bell starts to ring loudly.

He clears his throat, “But her father was paying for all her studies, her rent — everything. On the condition that when she was done studying, she would come back home and she would marry whoever he told her to marry. So, then she started her masters, and she was going to get a PHD. It felt like that day wasn’t coming.”

Bradley spares you of the details. How much he loved her, loved their life together. The lemon tree in the courtyard behind their apartment, and the way the sun cast shadows across their bed in the early morning. The way Natasha would smile at him.

“Until she was about to finish her PHD, and her dad says he picked a guy, and a date, and a venue for the wedding. Only — I had proposed first. We were engaged, and… as far as I saw it, we were just waiting until she graduated to tell her father.”

He proposed to her. They were engaged. Somehow, you just can’t picture it. You can’t picture the cynical fate-denier in front of you getting down on one knee and asking the woman that he loved to spend the rest of her life with him. The revelation draws nothing but a deep breath from you.

That’s not how it went, anyway. He didn’t have an expensive diamond, he didn’t get down on one knee and propose in front of your entire family. The two of them didn’t celebrate with champagne in crystal glasses. The way Bradley proposed was nothing like the way Malcolm had.

No, Bradley had proposed without a ring, laying in the grass in the park near their home. She had been laying in his lap and reading to him. He thinks about that day often.

“She didn’t see it the same way?”

Bradley rubs a rough hand across his jaw and closes his eyes for a moment. Even now, with the power of hindsight on his side, he doesn’t understand why she couldn’t just see it the same way he did. He had done it all alone. She wasn’t even willing to try.

“It’s a hard field to break into, especially if you can’t support yourself. There isn’t always a lot of money in it. She made the decision without me, and I was angry. She was going to marry this stranger, live off of her father’s money for just a little longer… then, we could be together.” Bradley scoffs almost bitterly and pinches at the bridge of his nose, like it gives him a headache just to remember.

“So… what did you do?” Whatever it was, it can’t have been that bad. You’ve seen the way she looks at him. He lifts his chin, takes the cigarette from between his lips, and looks at you.

His shoulders are heavy, his lips downturned. He looks older when he’s serious like this, more mature. He inhales deeply, and follows it with a burdened exhale. Ash from his cigarette falls to the floor, settling in the space between his sneakers.

“She was at the beach one morning, and someone knocked at the door, so I answered it,” He answered wearing nothing but a pair of still wet shorts, dusted with sand and saturated with salt water from his swim, his towel draped over his shoulder. He had gotten home a few minutes before, he had a class to get to later. “It was her father, looking for her. He freaked out when he saw me, asking who I was. I told him.”

He sets the cigarette back between his lips and inhales deeply. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of smoke filling the room.

“…You told him what?”

“I told him everything,” Bradley’s voice is quiet now, so filled with shame that the weight is dragging his words down. “That we had been living together for four years by then, that she wasn’t ever planning on coming home. It wasn’t my place. I could have lied, but I didn’t want to.”

You close your eyes for a moment, and think of your father. Of what would happen if he ever found out that you let Bradley spend a night in your bed. Then, you swallow softly and bite at the inside of your cheek. “What did he do?”

Bradley swallows thickly. It feels so much worse to say it out loud. “He never spoke to her again.”

There’s no real answer to grace him with. For certain, you know that your father never would have spoken to you again. You know that he would cost you everything, just like he had her. He seems to think that you would like to know more — your silence makes him start to tap his foot again.

“She married the guy, she dropped out of school, she left me, but it was too late. Her father was just angry at us for lying to him. He… died last May.”

Pressing your lips together, you exhale through your nose and blink at him. “He didn’t speak to his own daughter for four years?”

“I cost her the rest of her time with her father, and the career she could have had — because she was going to leave me.” There it is; what he was so ashamed of. The admission of guilt. Purpose in what he had said to her father.

Still, there’s something that makes you scoot forwards, the wooden legs of the chair scraping across the floor as your hand reaches out and your fingers curl softly around his wrist, “You didn’t know that he would react that way.”

Bradley stubs the cigarette out on the back of the lighter and sets it down. He leans in close, his knee setting between yours, his eyes growing warmer as he leans in. “No, but I knew it would hurt her and I did it anyway.”

You let him stay just as close. The cigarette smell lingers between the two of you. The sunlight catches that diamond on your finger and his gaze flickers downwards briefly. When he looks back up, you’re as serious as he has seen you, with none of the anger that usually accompanies it.

“I understand.” Your nails are a pretty blush colour, perfectly polished. They look out of place tucked into his large palm, your thumb stroking across the back of his hand. His eyes search across your face, his brows drawing slightly together.

“Which part?”

“I understand why you wanted to hurt her. I get why she wants to hurt you,” You tell him, the smell of his cologne lingering between the two of you, willing you to ignore the smell of the burnt tobacco. You close his fingers around yours, holding his hand between both of yours. “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.”

It’s all true, every word of it. But it’s deceptive nonetheless. If Bradley had ever tried to ruin you the way he did to her, you’re certain you wouldn’t treat him with the same kind of kindness that Natasha does.

Bradley hums softly. The late June heat settles between the two of you, prickling at the back of your neck. Reaching down, his fingers curl around the leg of your chair, dragging it closer again. His knee sits between yours.

Your mouth twitches, hinting at a smile as he leans in close and swipes his thumb across the bone of your jaw.

“You feel like getting dinner with me tonight, honey?”

…

Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @thecitysgraveyard @sugarcoated-lame @kmc1989 @cherrycola27

[random-sparks-98]

Sunlit Gotham ALTERNATE Plot Point

Justice League Meets Camp Half Blood (Batman's POV-ish)

The Batplane lands in a field nearby some tents. Superman and Wonder Woman are already talking to a handful of teens wearing Ancient Greek battle armor. Other teens work around the makeshift battle camp, sharpening weapons, preparing traps, and tending to the wounded.

“We have some scouts spying on the other army.” A tall blonde teenager informs the three adult heroes. “They should be coming back any time now.” 

Superman cocks his head to the side and glances out towards the trees across the battlefield. 

“Three teenagers?” He asks.

“Yeah, three of our counselors.” The teen - Malcolm, as he introduces himself, says.

“They’re sprinting this way.” Superman begins to hover slightly, “And they’re being chased by something big.”

Whipping around, Malcolm sprints towards a table that holds a mirrored shield on it. He pulls it close and demands, “Show me the stealth team.”

The shield’s surface ripples and as it clears it shows an aerial view of three teens sprinting through the forest. The shortest member is repeatedly making a hand signal as they run.

Swearing under his breath, Malcolm calls out, “Miranda! Get Ready To Activate the Vine Trap!”

A handful of teens sprint out, carrying packets of seeds. They scatter the seeds around and run back to a safe distance away, hiding amongst nearby bushes to stay out of sight.

The group of three break through the trees, running straight towards the new group. The teen in the lead holds a scroll in their hands as they sprint straight towards the scattered seeds. The other two are close behind. 

Exploding out of the trees comes a large snake-like creature. It roars and spittle flies everywhere, burning away the grass where it lands. It’s intent on chasing down its prey.

“By Hera, that’s a Drakon.” Diana whispers in horror

As the monster gets close enough, the hidden teens do something and the seeds begin to grow into vines. They grasp the Drakon and it bucks, trying to throw them off. 

A member of the trio turns around to watch and lets out a cheer as the Drakon stills. Then the giant head snaps up, its eyes glaring directly at the teen. They freeze, and the other two sprint past. The shortest member skids to a halt and turns back towards their friend just as the Snake HEAVES upwards, snapping the vines.

“Connor! Move!” They sprint back towards the frozen teen - Connor - and tackle him out of the way as the snake dives into the ground where they had just been. 

Pulling him to his feet, the smallest teen takes off sideways across the field, dragging Connor behind them as the snake turns and gives chase.

The two shout back and forth as they run, waving their arms wildly before Connor nods and takes the lead. The other one makes sure to follow exactly where he steps.

“Holy shit.” Malcolm mutters from where he stands, “They’re going for the minefield.”

“The what?” Superman asks, concerned.

A different teen comes to stand beside Malcolm, he has a green flannel thrown over his bright orange t-shirt. 

“Gods dam-it, Sky. You idiot.” He swears under his breath.

“Kayla!” Malcolm barks out, “Get the chariot and get them out of there!” 

A girl with dyed hair shakes her head wildly. “The pegasi won’t go near a Drakon. They just won’t do it.”

“Shit. We gotta get them out of there. 

The Drakon hits the minefield.

A Concussive blast sounds out, quickly followed by another, and another. The ground shakes and the two teens stumble but continue to sprint.

“They’re not gonna make it.” Malcolm mutters.

“They’re gonna make it.” The other blonde counters.

“They’re not gonna make it.”

“They’re gonna make it.”

“They’re not gonna make it.”

“They’re gonna — SHIT They’re not gonna make it!”

One last blast knocks the two teens off their feet.

A gust of wind is all the notice the spectators have before Superman is back, both teens in his arms. He’s trying not to make it obvious, but Batman can tell he’s looking at the shorter teen in shock.

Both kids stumble to the ground as Clark puts them down and immediately the blonde in the flannel approaches them, glowing gold. 

After a few moments he leans back slightly and asks, “Can you hear me now?”

They both nod.

“Good.” He looks satisfied for a moment before his face morphs into a glare. “THEN WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?”

“Oww, do you have to shout?” The shortest one hisses.

“Skylar. Ann. Richardson.” He grinds out.

Oh no. Bruce think’s desperately, Please tell me that’s not why Clark was looking at them in shock.

“Of all the Stupid Stunts that can be pulled you choose to lead a DRAKON into the MINE FIELD????” The kid is still ranting.

Skylar pulls off their helmet to reveal an alarmingly familiar face. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” She asks pointedly.

“That’s Not The Point!” Flannel shrieks. “You Almost Died!”

“We always almost die.” Connor points out.

“Do not start with me, Connor Stoll.” A finger is pointed at his chest.

“Will.” Sky leans forward and grabs Will’s hand. “We’re fine. I’m fine. We’re ok.” She glances up and balks slightly at the sight of Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman standing before them.

Blinking a few times she opens her mouth again. “….On second thought, maybe you should check me for a concussion… I think I’m hallucinating the Justice League.”

Chuckling slightly, Diana reaches out a hand and pulls her to her feet. “You are not hallucinating, young one. We have recently discovered your existence and are here to offer whatever aid we can provide.”

“Oh.” Skylar says faintly. "Cool."

[nyxhaven]

Seeking A Warm Body (gale x gn reader smut 18+)

On a frigid and rain-soaked night in camp, Tav's thoughts turn to the possibility of sharing a tent with their charismatic fellow traveler, Gale, purely for warmth. As the relentless downpour intensifies, Tav contemplates the unspoken connection between them, wondering if their camaraderie might evolve into something more. With a surge of courage, Tav approaches Gale's tent, seeking solace from the bitter cold, and in the cozy confines of shared warmth, they discover that sometimes, on a night as raw and unpredictable as this one, the line between friendship and something deeper blurs in the soft glow of lantern light.

Amid the persistent drumming of raindrops on the canvas tents, Tav sat by the flickering glow of a campfire, shivering slightly as the chill of the night seeped into their bones. They stared into the dancing flames, lost in thought. Across the camp, Gale, their adventurous and enigmatic companion, was huddled under a separate tent, their silhouette barely visible through the rain-smeared fabric.

Tav's thoughts wandered as they considered the idea of sharing a tent with Gale. It wasn't unusual for travelers to bunk together for warmth on such a cold, wet night. The rain had been falling steadily since the late afternoon, turning the camp into a mud-soaked quagmire. The campfire, though valiant in its efforts, provided limited respite from the pervasive dampness.

Tav stole a glance towards Gale's tent. Was it mere practicality that kept them apart, or was there something more? Gale was known for their cheerful demeanor and their charismatic tales around the campfire, but Tav had sensed something deeper in the glances and smiles exchanged between them. A connection that went beyond the camaraderie of fellow travelers.

The rain intensified, its pitter-patter on the tent turning into a persistent hiss. Tav felt a shiver run down their spine, and with each passing minute, the idea of sharing a tent for warmth became more appealing. They took a deep breath and gathered the courage to approach Gale's tent.

As they unzipped the flap and entered, the dim light from a lantern revealed Gale huddled in a bed roll, reading a weathered old book. Startled, Gale looked up, their eyes wide with surprise.

Tav cleared their throat, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's getting really cold out there, and my tent feels like an icebox. Would you mind if I joined you for a bit, just to stay warm?"

Gale's face broke into a warm smile, their eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course, Tav, come on in. It's a tight fit, but I think we'll manage."

With a grateful nod, Tav zipped up the tent, now only realizing gales magic hes used to make the inside of his tent much larger then it looks on the outside and they settled in close, the warmth of the bed roll providing an instant respite from the bitter cold. The rain continued to pour outside, but within the cozy confines of the tent, Tav and Gale found them selves face to faces their noses grazing each others. Gale couldn’t help himself from smiling.

“you look very pretty tonight tav.” gale states holding his breath in response.

“thank you Gale, you’re always so kind to me. you’re not half bad looking either.” Tav jest getting a laugh from the both of them.

gale reaches over him, leaning himself close over the top of Tav. tav can feel his breath on their ear as he dims the latern down. “let’s make it more comfortable, is this nice?” gale says low and softly.

Gales voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“stay as many nights as you wish in these walls.” Gale replies cupping tavs face, the water droplets on Tavs eyelashes fell to their face when they blinked. still damp from the elements gale wipes the water droplets off their cheeks. Gale noticed Tavs eyes for all they were illuminated dimly by the lantern. Gale chewed on his bottom lip. his hand slid back and begins to rub Tavs earlope softly. His hand slids its way down the side of Tavs body, stopping at his waist he pulls Tav in. Their bodies pressed close in the bed roll. “by the gods you are cold, You shoulda come in sooner.” Gale says caringly

Gale leans into kiss Tav pulling them in there lips meeting. Gales kiss start soft, and careful. Quickly they become sloppy and deep with passion. Tav doesn't see gale like this, possesive, he has your attention and doesn't want to loose it. Tav follows the tango with gales mouth, giving in to his urges. Gales hand explore Tavs back finding the small of it, pulling Tav into him, placing his leg between Tavs. Gales fingers find the hem of their shirt pulling the wet clothes over Tavs head exposing their bare chest. Gale immediately places kisses down their chest like he's claiming Tav all for his greedy self. Tavs hips grind against gales thigh placed between their heat. Luckily for Tav their pants are already partly wet as they are already wet with excitement.

Gales finger play at the waistband of tavs pants. Wanting to get the wet leather off their soft skin, he unbuttoned Tavs pants. Almost whining into the kisses begging Tav. Tav pulls the soft velvet tunic of over gales head. “Take your pants of Gale” tav whispers against his soft scruff.

Gale lifts his hips and pulls his trousers and briefs down kicking them off to the side of the tent somewhere. Tav follows suit balling up their wet clothes throwing them back into the cold. Now both naked gale lays over Tav holding himself up, looking down at them Gale reignites the passionate kissing.

“I want you Gale.” Tav says softly.

“Im all yours already, you just didn't see it.”

“Please just go slow, I haven't done this in a while.” (pov switch)

“No need to worry when you are in my arms.” Gale says kissing your lips. “Just watch me, now spit.” Gale says holding his cupped hand below your chin. Meeting his desires, he adds his own saliva to his hand before leaning back using his spare hand he pushes his hair out of his face painting, the gale that stood before you was not the gale you saw in the daylight with your companions, no, Gale was nothing but a acolyte ready to worship his God. Wetting his cock with the handful of your spit he using the remainder of your slick to wet the skin around your hole. You feel the calloused fingers of the scholared wizard tease you before slipping his middle finger into you, slightly pulling it out before reinserting it.

“You alright?” Gale checks in. You nod as your breath hitches as you tighten around his knuckle. “Wonderful”

Gale slips another finger into you stretching you out before setting a steady pace watching you pant, studying you like an ancient tome, learning where you like to feel his long fingers explore inside you. Pulling his fingers out he holds them up to his lips. Making eye contact his sucks yours and his juices of his fingers. Grabbing your ankle and setting it on his shoulder his pulls your hips into him. He places the head of his large dick on your hole. “Youre gonna be so good for me, I'll go slow, just breathe.” you realize how just how thick the girth of gales cock is as it rest, ready to enter you. Gale slowly prods the tip inside you, stretching you hole around the length of Gale. The heat of the moment fills the tent, the thunder in the back round rolling as Gale brought himself out and buried himself back again inside you.

You let out a flurry of deep breaths and gales name. Luckily the rain beat the canvas tent shielding your mess of joined moans from your companions sleeping in tents just feet away. Gales dick thrust into you finding the spot that makes you dig you nails into his arm. Gales pelvis slaps into your ass as he holds your leg up against him allowing him to enter deeper into you. Your walls tighten around him, looking up, gales hair falling into his face, his neck and pecks beaded with sweat. He has an intense look on his face as he focuses on making the person he's with feel pleasure. Feeling his full length in you brings the wave of your orgasm rushing in. Letting out a loud moan gales name makes its way to your lips you ride the waves of pleasure from your orgasm. Gale removes his cock pumping it over your center releasing a large load across your stomach. Gales hips buck into his hand as he leaks his final bit of semen.

Gale grabs his tunic he had thrown on he ground and cleans you up nicely and gently, tossing it back aside Gale settles back into the bedroll and holds you in his arm. He traces his finger over your skin as you listen to the rain and thunder. Gale whispers sweet nothings praising you for how good you did before dozing off ready for the next day. Thankful for the warm body Gale provided on a rainy night.

A/N had the day off enjoy this quick one shot, lemme know who to write next pls! I'm thinking probably halsin 🐻🍯

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

The Birdcage

Jurassic Park: It's Ironic, by Meig of A-Dinosaur-A-Day

What follows is a retelling of the Jurassic Park story, mainly based on the 1993 film, with portions of the original novel used to supplement the story. The main point of divergence occurs when the park is unable to find workable nonavian dinosaur genetic material for cloning, since - as in the real world - dna degrades much too rapidly. Instead, the park consists only of extinct dinosaurs that can be brought back - birds from the last 2.5 million years. What happens after that is, as Ian Malcolm would say, an emerging pattern.

Infinite thanks to beta readers @plokool, @killdeercheer, and @otussketching! And extra thanks to @i-draws-dinosaurs for the killer logo! Happy 30th anniversary of the JP Film!

Link to the masterpost of chapters

Chapter One: Magallanes Basin, Chile

It was frigid at the dig site, with sharp winds battering everything they could, knocking over rocks and tools and even people. Some folks were shouting over the wind, while others were hurrying to protect precious material. The chaos was almost too much to deal with, but Donald Gennaro had work to do, and needed to consult with the dig site leader, Juanito.

Dig site leader was, honestly, not descriptive enough. Juanito Rostagno was one of the most respected paleontologists of South America, and he oversaw all the dig sites run by International Genetics Technology Incorporated, otherwise known as InGen. And it was precisely because of his competence and knowledge that Gennaro had made the trip so far south.

Magallanes Basin was as far south in Patagonia as you could get, near Tierra del Fuego. The freezing winds and icy temperatures prevented it from being inhabited in most locations, with only a few population centers popping up here or there. The dig site was near the sea, among the rocky crags and crevices, far away from the more famous Patagonian steppe. Snow was common, which made the dig perilous – at any point, the material could be lost forever. As it was, a miracle must have prevented the material around them from being swept out to sea.

“Hola Juanito!” Donald greeted, finally finding the scientist among the others, reaching out to shake his hand as he tripped over a few rocks.

“Hola! Bienvenido!” Juanito shouted, gesturing for Donald to follow him across the rocky terrain. He was dressed in khakis and a thick flannel shirt, not bothering to wear a hat for fear of the wind blowing it away. Donald had lost his own hat about fifteen minutes ago. But among the researchers and workers dressed more similarly to Juanito, Donald felt quite out of place in his business suit.

“So Hammond is back at the island?” Donald asked, trying desperately not to trip over another rock. In the distance, a group of penguins walked by the workers, to their delight as they attempted to talk and interact with them. Donald had been brushing up on his knowledge of local wildlife, and was pretty sure they were Magellanic Penguins, a small variety similar to the African or Humboldt. They were really very cute. Sometimes he could really understand the appeal of Hammond’s vision.

“No, he had to go back to California early. He sends his apologies,” Juanito explained, grimacing slightly as the pair made it to one of the sturdy tents tucked away against the side of the mountain. It was significantly warmer here, both protected from the wind and supporting a small space heater.

Donald bristled but kept his voice even as he responded, “We are facing a twenty-million-dollar lawsuit by the family of that worker! And you’re telling me Hammond can’t even bother to see me?”

“He wants to be with his daughter, she’s getting a divorce,” Juanito said, picking up a bone fragment and examining it.

“I understand that, but we’ve been advised to deal with the situation now. The underwriters feel that the accident has raised some very serious safety questions about the park. This makes the investors very very anxious. I had to promise to conduct a very thorough, on-site inspection.”

Juanito looked up from the bone, frowning at Donald.

“Hammond hates inspections, they slow everything down.”

Donald fought the urge to laugh as he responded, “Well I need to or they’ll pull the funding. That’ll slow him down even more.”

“Juanito! Juanito!”

Both men looked up to the tent mouth to see a young graduate student waving them outside. Donald grit his teeth and followed them, bracing himself for the wind as they ambled down the hill towards a more secluded spot. The rocks were tucked against the mountain, with a pit a few feet deep so hidden Donald almost fell into it.

“Qué tenemos aquí?” Juanito asked the student, as they both began talking in rapid Spanish. Donald had learned Spanish, of course – hard to consult with a company that did most of its business in Latin America if he hadn’t – but he still could not follow the native speakers as their words flowed seamlessly like rivers between them. He could pick out the occasional world – something about a skull, dirt, and a new specimen.

“A ver muéstrame, muéstrame,” Juanito finally said slowly enough for Donald to pick it out, following them down into the pit carefully. Donald tripped into it, as he had almost predicted, steadying himself against the side of the rocks.

“Watch your footing!” Juanito warned as they came into the main center of the pit.

“If two experts,” Donald continued, determined to move past the fact that he couldn’t walk down here, apparently, “Sign off on the island, the insurance guys will back off. I’ve already got Ian Malcolm, but they think he’s too trendy – they want Alan Grant.”

Alan Grant and his research team had been early consultants on the project, though they never really knew what they were consulting about. Now they were just on Hammond’s digsite payroll – always looking for that one in a million chance that, maybe, his original dream could still happen.

“Grant?” Juanito snorted, “You’ll never get him out of Montana.” He picked up a skull fragment and looked at it excitedly, calling for the students around him to come over to examine it with him.

“Why not?” Donald asked, irritated.

“Because Grant’s like me,” Juanito explained, smirking, “He’s a digger.”

“Well what about Spinoza, down in New Zealand? She was hired for consultancy when the project changed direction.”

‘Changed Direction’ was the official wording for the major speedbump that had nearly thrown the entire enterprise out the window. Even mentioning it made a small frown appear on Juanito’s face. Donald didn’t like even mentioning it, given how much of the original investment had been lost chasing impossible dreams. They had kept as much of that original idea as they could, of course – even continuing to consult with Grant, Sattler, and others, when their work was no longer particularly relevant – but there was no getting around it. Hammond’s big dream had to be downsized. The laws of nature were against him.

“Spinoza?” Juanito continued, “Maybe. I do know she returned to the States recently for a conference, so she may actually be available. But she’ll insist on Grant and Sattler coming, too.”

“Why?” Donald asked, eyebrows raising towards his receding hairline. He had not even understood why they kept them on the payroll.

“Because she’s Grant’s former student, and none of them know that Grant and Sattler are no longer our chief experts,” Juanito snorted, “This is the price of all our secrecy, is it not?”

Donald sighed, “I suppose. So, what, in the middle of this lawsuit and the investors getting nervous, I’m supposed to fly down a whole spread of experts, regardless of their actual relevance, to check out this park?”

“Sattler is still relevant,” Juanito pointed out, “And beyond that, Grant is one of the strongest researchers in behavior we have. He will still be helpful. If you can get him to leave.”

“Any idea how I can do that?” Donald laughed.

Juanito helped his students start to prepare the specimens before them for transportation. He turned to look at Donald, frowning.

“Well...” Juanito paused, taking a deep breath and looking Donald straight in the eye, “Funding for us diggers. Nearly impossible. As always.”

Donald sighed.

It always came back to money.

“Since he couldn’t be bothered to join this meeting, I’ll have John sell it. His boisterous enthusiasm and cavalier attitude towards money will make it more enticing, anyway,” Donald said.

“Certainly is a better salesman than you,” Juanito laughed. Donald couldn’t help laughing with him.

“Unfortunately I cannot come with,” Juanito continued, frowning apologetically at Donald, “After all, look what we have here.” He gestured to the new material, which looked just like more bone scraps to Donald. But he wasn’t an expert.

“Think that’ll be a new species we can add?” Donald asked.

Juanito shrugged, walking back up out of the pit and helping Donald with him, “Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Donald wasn’t confident enough that the project would move forward to answer.

[agaypanic]

PLEASE Are you still doing requests for Reese Wilkerson from Malcolm in the middle? If so ermmmm can I request a goofy little smut 😊

Don’t feel like you have to tho!!! And if you’re not comfortable with it it’s okay!!!! I love your writing sm!<3

Sleepover (Reese Wilkerson X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Late nights with Reese make you both giggly and needy.

A/N: this feels kinda rushed but idk

CW: p in v intercourse

***

It must have been around one in the morning when you woke up. You heard some knocking on your window, which was strange because your room was on the second floor. You were startled at the dark figure trying to get in, but soon relaxed when you realized who it was.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You laughed as you opened the window for your boyfriend, allowing him to crawl into your room. “You’re lucky my parents aren’t home, Wilkerson.”

“That’s the whole reason I came, N/n.” Reese teased, wrapping his arms around you and giving you a kiss.

“Aren’t you grounded?”

“Yeah. But when has that ever stopped me from coming over?” You giggled a little, knowing it was true. Somehow, Reese was at your house more than his own when he was grounded.

“So… What do you wanna do?” You asked, looking up at him a bit tiredly, with your chin resting on his chest. A hand fell to rest on your hip, a thumb slipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“I can think of a couple things.” But you knew there was only one thing on Reese’s mind. And despite your slightly sleepy state, you were more than happy to comply.

Reese made you feel dizzy with the kisses he planted on your face and neck. Slowly, he guided you backward until your legs hit the foot of your bed. You let out a squeal as you fell back onto the mattress, Reese barely having enough time to put a hand on the bed to keep himself from falling on top of you. You couldn’t help but laugh, which quickly turned into a sigh as Reese’s head dipped down to nibble at your collarbone, which was exposed by the loose shirt that you had stolen from your boyfriend during one of your previous sleepovers.

The hand that wasn’t holding Reese up trailed down your body, cupping the place where you were needing him most. You moved against his hand, trying to find friction and relief.

“No teasing, Reese, please.” Usually, Reese would ignore your pleas. He liked to get you worked up until you couldn’t fathom taking anymore. But he must’ve been just as needy as you were, because he complied and started tugging off your shorts. You tried sitting up to remove your shirt, but he pushed you back down.

“Keep it on.” He demanded softly. When your shorts were off, Reese spread your legs apart, giving each of your thighs a quick squeeze. “Don’t move.” Then he walked away towards your dresser. 

You whined at the loss of his touch, doing your best to not squeeze your thighs together for relief. Reese quickly came back with a foil wrapper. The sight excited you, even more so when you noticed the tent in his pants. You reached out and palmed him through his sweats, and he welcomed the touch with groans, shutting his eyes tight and throwing his head back.

Suddenly, Reese grabbed your wrist, taking your hand off of him. You frowned a little, wishing you could touch him. But Reese brought your hand up to kiss your knuckles before dropping it.

“If I let you do that for another second, I would’ve come in my pants.” The confession had you giggling, which made him smile.

Not wanting to go through the work of stripping you both completely bare, Reese yanked down his pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight in front of you, but you supposed you could suck his dick another time. The two of you were too horny to hold off any longer.

When Reese finally had the condom rolled onto himself, he focused on you. Once again, he cupped your pussy, and you mewled at the feeling.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby.” He whispered, although he didn’t have to since you were alone. “Did thinking about me and my dick get you all wet?”

You weren’t used to this slightly condescending tone from Reese, but you loved it. You nodded, grinding on his hand. He quickly pulled your panties to the side, revealing your glistening lips. Reese swiped his thumb over your clit a few times while he grabbed himself, lining up with your entrance before pushing in.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back into the mattress. You were lucky that you had the house to yourself, because you don’t know if you could keep your voice down while Reese started thrusting into you.

“Oh, god, Reese.” You drawled, eyes rolling back as his cock started grazing that sensitive spot inside of you. He grabbed your legs, maneuvering them so they were over his shoulders, allowing him to pound you even deeper than you thought possible.

“Doing so good, N/n.” He panted, watching your body bounce with his every thrust. Something about seeing you in his shirt, getting fucked out of your mind, made him speed up his pace. “So fucking good.” A hand went down to feverishly rub your clit, making you squeeze his cock.

“Keep doing that, keep going.” You whined. “I’m so close, Reese. So close.” Your words encouraged Reese to fight through the exhaustion he was starting to feel.

“Come when you’re ready, baby. I got you.” 

Soon enough, pleasure coursed through you as you gushed all over his cock. Your pussy spasmed, squeezing Reese so good that his orgasm quickly followed yours. He tried to ride you through your orgasms, his hips slowing their pace. 

He panted, moving your legs off his shoulders and leaning forward to rest his head on your clothed chest. You petted his hair, trying to catch your breath.

“That was really good.” You said, voice somewhat raw.

“Yeah. I think I almost fucked you dumb.” Reese muttered. You jokingly hit him before pushing him off of you, rolling the two of you around so you were straddling him, cock still nestled inside of you. 

“Shut up.” You laughed, electricity running up your spine from the new position you two were in. But both of you were too exhausted to go another round.

For now.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank @theogirlovermattheogirl

[tending-the-hearth]

god i'm thinking about how "the stolen chariot" takes place post-"titan's curse" and how that's a turning point for percy and clarisse's relationship, and how clarisse probably saw straight through percy's facade and saw exactly how he was treated during that time at camp and how sad and lonely he probably was because grover was tripping over himself around the hunters and chiron was so focused on thalia and annabeth was gone

and that leads me into thinking about the head counselors again and how maybe, in their own ways, they gave percy little things to show their support. moments of help, little gifts.

silena sitting in the pegasus stables with percy, holding onto his arm and being a big sister presence to him. not talking, just being there for him, giving him some semblence of stability

beckendorf dragging percy off to test new weapons he made in the arena, turning it into a game that had a smile spreading over percy's face for the first time in days

travis and connor sneaking coke and candy into camp for their honorary brother, leaving it in the poseidon cabin with little cards that had the corniest jokes written on them

clarisse spars with percy more, pulling him to the arena when she sees the stormy look in his eyes, when he can't think about anything else but how frustrated he is

lee pulls percy into the medical tent to test his healing abilities with water, because it's been an obsession for the apollo cabin since percy arrived, and he can't help but make percy laugh with his eagerness

castor and pollux convince their father to let up on percy, just a little bit, to let him have a looser curfew, letting him sit out by the lake for as long as he needs, sometimes sitting with him in the quiet

katie leaving little plants in the poseidon cabin, little succulents and flowers that are easy to care for, something small that makes percy's eyes light up every time he gets a new one, and he lines the windows of the cabin with them

malcolm, bless him, is so aware of his sister and percy's crushes on each other, and takes it upon himself to make sure that his sister's best friend doesn't waste away, and he's the one who makes sure percy eats and sleeps and stays healthy.

and clarisse will deny it until the day she dies, but percy knows that she's the one setting everything up. it was her suggestion, though the other counselors know they'll get fried if they say anything.

and he doesn't say anything, not until after "the stolen chariot", when he and clarisse are sitting down for a burger, and he brings it up quietly. and clarisse just huffs and rolls her eyes, and percy's heart warms so much at the fact that, despite the winter being the worst one of his life, he was surrounded by people who loved him and supported him.

(annabeth definitely gives hugs to all the head counselors when malcolm tells her, because they kept her seaweed brain going)

[facewithoutheart]

Today in fics I’m never going to write but keep thinking about: Baz getting hit with amnesia shortly before the events of WS and being told he’s dating some guy with wings and a tail who never gets off the sofa. And he’s like, “Yeah I don’t see it,” which is kind of heartbreaking but also kind of a giant release of pressure for Simon because, “Oh he doesn’t know what I’ve lost,” and they become tentative friends. Baz of course loves Penny and they nerd out trying to figure out what’s caused Baz’s amnesia. There’s no real incentive for Baz to get his memories back except, “They’re my memories, Simon. Don’t you think I’m owed them?” To which Simon just smiles sadly and misses the way Baz used to call him Snow. But it’s fine! Honestly! Simon keeps downplaying what they had. Telling little stories like, “Oh that’s the time you spelled my laptop shut nbd,” and, “Yeah I got locked out in the cold all night but the stars were really pretty,” and Baz is like… and you dated me??? But there’s also moments where Simon explains he broke Baz’s nose and tried to out him as a vampire, and Baz just doesn’t get it, them, at all.

Except… okay so maybe it hasn’t escaped Baz’s notice how attractive Simon is. And there are moments when he gets off the couch that he’s shockingly funny, and sweet. He sometimes slips into quiet but Baz has started to piece together what’s happened and maybe that makes sense. It’s not like he has anything to say, either. “What would I have to offer in conversation, Simon? I barely even know my own name.” And they sit together on the sofa and watch television. It’s… something.

Insert a bit of Baz spiral with Baz wondering, “is this what made me fall? Is this?” As he keeps looking for the spark, the reason, the moment he fell for Simon Snow.

I’m not sure what the conflict is here. Maybe Baz overhears Dr. Wellbelove talking to Simon about the Mage? Maybe there’s a Fiona intervention? A Malcolm one? But at some point there’s some big argument where Baz confronts Simon and they’re screaming at each other and then Baz bursts into laughter. And Simon’s like wtf Baz but Baz can’t stop laughing because of course this is it. Of course this is when he falls for Simon. When they’re screaming at each other.

But it’s not that, is it? It’s every time Simon smiled, and every time something on the television made him laugh and Simon’s first reaction is to look at Baz. And it’s how he teases Penny and hasn’t pressured Baz to get his memories back. Just accepts him as he is. Helps him hunt. Maybe yells at Fiona to back off when Baz doesn’t get his memories back fast enough. It’s how Simon Snow is alive, alive, alive, he’s full of life and that’s when it all comes rushing back. All of his memories falling like rain all over Baz; not a flood but a cleansing. It’s not overwhelming to love Simon it’s never been and having this outside perspective on who Simon is and what he’s been through independent of Baz’s issues has reminded Baz of what he’s fighting for.

Baz finally stops laughing. He walks over to Simon, presses both hands to his cheeks, says, “Snow,” then kisses him. And of course Baz hasn’t called Simon “Snow” this whole time so Simon knows Baz’s memories are back.

Ok and insert more angst: Simon immediately pushes Baz off and walks out their door. Because it’s been easy letting Baz in hasn’t it? He didn’t know what Simon lost. Who he used to be. He finally understood, didn’t he? The arsehole… ever since Baz lost his memories he knew better. He knew what Simon had always known: that Simon is nothing. Not the Chosen One, not even a mage. God not even Normal. Just a chewed up bit of empty space with wings and a tail. A freak. Wasn’t it nice, getting to know Baz without any of that history? Without any of the pressure? I mean sure sometimes Simon wanted to pounce on him and snog him senseless or hold his hand when the movie they were watching got scary. And Baz kept doing things for Simon like getting him the brand of cider he likes best and making sandwiches for him when he forgot to eat. And spending time with him without huffing about how Simon was wasting his life and not looking at Simon like he could see who used to be there: someone. Someone who mattered. And that’s what it’s gonna be now, right? More pointed looks and disappointed smiles and knowing, always knowing and never saying that Baz is too good for him.

Didn’t he know Simon Snow was meant to be alone?

Oooh okay maybe Simon just like, rage runs back to the flat and slams open the door and is like, “How dare you?” But he’s not even sure what he’s saying. He’s not even sure what he’s thinking. All he knows is that he wants Baz, any version of Baz, even the one who thinks he’s wasting his life because of course he’s missed that. He liked sitting next to Baz and watching shows and not feeling any pressure but god the way he felt when Baz was screaming at him. Simon’s got wings but he never feels like he can fly without Baz, next to him. Pushing him.

Because if Simon is alive alive alive it’s only because Baz makes him want to be. Baz has always been Simon’s reason, even when things were…

And then Simon’s kissing Baz, and Baz is kissing back, and maybe Simon can keep this. Maybe he can choose this.

Maybe he can try.

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Alto/Landgraab

Separate paths

2 days later. It was still quite early in the morning when Vita was already back in the kitchen. Because one of the side effects of pregnancy, whether positive or negative, is being hungry, no matter what time of day. She hadn't had anything like this for almost 17 years. And she almost forgot how annoying these mood swings could be.

Gerhard and his wife also got up early. Then today is the day they will move into their new home. It was still possible to find an intact house. They ate breakfast in silence together with the others. But afterwards they had to exchange a few important words.

Gerhard spoke to Vita. “We had our disagreements until the end, but… We still want to thank you for giving us a roof over our heads when we were in need"/ ‘well, we like to help others when they need help, don't we?’. He looked at her in disbelief, by now it was hard to tell whether she was being ironic or not. “I'd rather not say anything about that now. I was looking for something useful for us yesterday and found another intact house."/ ‘Oh, I'm glad to hear that’.

“Oh, you're pleased, Vita? You've been as obnoxious as ever in the last few days…”. Vita thought back to the one night and the conversation between her husband and the stranger on the other end. It had a positive effect on her mood. “I apologize for my behavior, it might be partly due to pregnancy or… Oh, I just hope you'll feel better then. “/. Vita's behavior was also something new for Gerhard at that moment.

Holly didn't want to miss the chance to say goodbye either. “It's a bit of a shame that you want to leave, but… I understand your decision…”. Nancy smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “It wasn't meant to be a permanent solution to stay here. Thank you for looking after Malcolm from time to time, it wasn't a matter of course, I didn't want to take away your youth"/ ‘it's o.k., i had enough time and I'm very happy with Ethan’/ ‘he's a good boy’.

The men also had one last chat in front of the door. And Nick's head was working. "I'm... I'm sorry." Gerhard looked at him almost incomprehensibly. "What? What are you apologizing for, huh? For having to be your henchman for the last few months? Or for the fact that your opinion always carried more weight than the others'? I'm certainly not staying here because of an apology"/ "You don't have to."

“Then you don't need to start showing anything like remorse now, okay?"/ ”hh, I don't want that either, I… My God. You'd better tell me if you want to work as a doctor again"/ ”What? How am I supposed to do that? I'm in diagnostics and I can't work without the necessary equipment”. Nick looked at the floor for a moment and nodded. “Yes, that's true, of course. But… Maybe you'll think about it again soon.”

Gerhard turned and headed for the door… “It's just… I know you were passionate about your work. And now that Dr. Wolff is pausing for a while because of her pregnancy, you could do other things in the hospital"/ ”It's not even a real hospital, Nick. A small doctor's surgery and a military tent, that's not enough and it's cold as fuck there too.”.

Nick took a deep breath. “Yeah, I know. Well, maybe that can still be changed…"/ ”Let it go, Nick. You've wanted to change things so many times and you haven't. . I'll be on my way now with my wife and son. “/ “OK, then… Good luck for now. And if you do need anything…"/ ‘What I need at the moment is rest’. Gerhard walked past him and disappeared into the house to get the rest of his things and leave with his family.

Gerhard was glad to have freed himself from Nick's hands. Sure, he was never a prisoner in their house or anything like that, but he no longer held the same views as Nick. “And I really have my own room?”. For Malcolm, the whole thing was a new chapter as well. “mhm, yeah, “/”can I have an ant farm then? Holly always thought they were disgusting"/ ”we'll think about it, but you have to take good care of them. We don't want them running all over the house"/ ‘o.k.’….The new house was further away, but they were happy to put up with the long walk.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of this Part @greenplumbboblover🙂

[pocket-lad]

Hear me out, in the tent scene what if Nick Van Owen found Adelaide in the Trex scene / waterfall scene (Sarah comforts Kelly). And he’s suddenly just over protective of her, holding her against his chest whispering “it’s ok, it’s ok”

Your wish is my command.

~

Nick’s muddy, gross hands opened up, but the air was still just as damp outside of his grasp as it had been on the inside. Specks of water from the roaring waterfall in front of them flicked at Adelaide.

She trembled as she took it all in. They were lost, cold, and scared. A man just walked into the jaws of a T-Rex and died. Ian was out there. And she didn’t know if he was coming back.

Nick looked down at his hands. He couldn’t believe he was holding a whole living person in them. In all his years of, well, life, he’d never seen anything like her. As far as he could tell, she was just like any other person, only infinitely smaller. And now she was his responsibility, he guessed. At least until Malcolm came back. If he came back.

“Where is he?” Adelaide whispered, her voice barely audible over the rushing water.

She was shaking like a leaf, but Nick didn’t know what to do. Should he…comfort her? She wasn’t a child. But also, she was scared. But also, they were all scared.

After a painfully awkward pause, Nick finally rested one of his thumbs on her shoulder, hoping it offered something in the general vicinity of comfort.

Adelaide’s shoulder buckled slightly under the pressure and she flinched away from the sudden contact. Nick was strong. She followed through with the motion and ducked away in shock.

He pulled his thumb away. She stared at it, looming above her head.

Oh. He was trying to comfort her.

“It’s okay,” he said placatingly. “It’s okay.”

“I know,” Adelaide snapped, then returned her attention to the waterfall. Watching. Waiting.

Nick sighed. The borrower was starting to turn blue from the cold, and she was shivering more than ever. She’d make herself sick if she worried any harder. So, he brought his hand to his chest and cupped the other one around her, holding her close.

Adelaide instantly wiggled around, trying to find a way out. She needed to be able to see out, she needed to see if Ian was coming, she needed to be able to defend herself. She banged on his chest, yelling at him to let her out, but he held fast.

As the seconds dragged on, her hope started to dwindle. Her best friend was gone. They never should have come to this crazy island and she never should have left his side. And now she was stuck in the hands of Nick Van Owen, maybe forever. Adelaide started to cry.

She felt Nick’s voice more than she heard it. It rumbled in his chest and into her own body as he repeated his words from earlier. “It’s okay, it’s okay,”

All the tension slowly drained out of Adelaide’s body and she let herself sink into the little divot between his palm and his chest. The heat that radiated off him was pleasant, maybe even a little calming. The repetitive phrase wormed its way into her head. It’s okay…

Adelaide could almost say she was asleep when Nick suddenly yelled, “It’s coming back!” She just about jumped out of her skin as the voice enveloped her, but with the way he reflexively held her even closer in his panic, she couldn’t budge. Not that she wanted to move, especially if the T-Rex was coming back. Adelaide was frozen.

But then nothing happened. And then Kelly shouted, “Dad!”

…Ian????

Adelaide resumed her struggles against Nick’s massive hand, pushing and scolding. “Hey!...Hey!!!” she called, and the hand finally pulled away.

A little dazed but overall fine, Adelaide turned to see Ian standing there. Wet, out of breath, and probably hurt, but definitely alive.

She nearly leapt out of Nick’s hand, but Ian’s was there first. He gathered her up and gave her a once over, and Adelaide absently registered Nick talking in the background. “Hey, I said it would be okay, didn’t I?” he said in that stupid, smug voice of his. She ignored him.

But he was right. Ian was here. They were all here. It was going to be okay.

[philaet0s]

Six Sentence Sunday

But I still haven't learnt how to count to six

Parents Snowbaz

Baz

From here, I can see the glee in Daphne’s eyes, which are fixed on Rose. 

And I can see that my father is still standing by the door. He’s completely frozen, and the expression on his face is unreadable. I tense immediately. I thought he had… accepted all of this. He was happy for us when we were expecting, he…

Has tears in his eyes.

Fuck.

“Dad?” I say, tentatively.

He sniffles. “Merlin. This is.” He balls his hand into a fist. It looks like it’s shaking. “You… I’m sorry, I didn’t expect I would…” He falls silent, his lips reducing to a thin line. One of the tears rolls down his cheek.

I leave Simon’s side.

Natasha/Malcolm

Malcolm

Polly takes a breath, then begin speaking again, in Italian this time. “For fuck’s sake, Malcolm. Mamma’s going to murder you.” 

She shakes her head as she turns back around, then starts the car.

“Mamma’s not going to murder me.”

Actually, I do believe that mamma is going to murder me. I simply can’t agree with my sister. 

“Oh, she is. You didn’t tell her you were bringing the Mage’s daughter home. She would have taken out her fine crockery. She would have spent three days cooking. You know she’s extra about hosting people, and you didn’t tell her who your guest was. Terrible mistake.”

“Look, it’s not like I can do anything about it now. Or like she can. I’m sure whatever she’s planned to host my girlfriend is perfectly fine. She always does too much.”

“There is no too much!” Polly says, mimicking our mother’s accent.

I bury my face in my hands. I’m sweating, and it’s not even hot today.

Other random WIP

Baz

“Oh?” I ask, interest in my voice. He did not want to come tonight. I didn’t expect he’d find company. 

“Yes. A lovely woman.” He makes his way to the bar, behind my back. On the opposite side of my body from Simon. “I shall order something, I promised her I’d bring her a drink.”

“I think I just heard five straight men exploding in the distance because you’re buying drinks to a woman you have no intention of fucking.”

Thomas laughs. “She’s here with her wife, I doubt she wants to fuck me either. She works in a lab, and she’s telling me all about her job, it’s quite fascinating,” he explains. He turns to Simon, lowering his voice as if he was telling him a secret. “I know nothing about sciences, so I believe she’s talking to me like I’m a five-year-old, but it’s still rather nice.”

He does order something. Both Simon and I stay silent the whole time. I think Simon is too unsettled by the situation to say anything as long as Thomas is here, but he’s not leaving, which is enough for me. I would hate for this moment we were sharing to end prematurely because my boyfriend decided to show his face.

[tuxedo-rabbit]

Hey, just wrote a little angsty drabble about Simon's childhood, and a memory that sets up his relationship with Leandra later down the line. He's like around 12 in this.

Magic Serves What is Best in Me

Simon listened to the wind whistling through the trees.

He was supposed to be asleep. It was hard though, with the twins snoring next to him. They’d been traveling for half the night, they had only stopped a few hours ago when Bethany had complained that her feet hurt. The twins weren’t as used to walking long distances as Simon was.

It was his fault they were having to learn.

Simon sat up, suddenly sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. He crept over to the tent flap, and pulled it open, just enough to look out at the family’s haphazard campsite. Mother and Father were still awake. There was no fire to sit around of course, too eye catching Father had said, instead Simon saw his parents sitting together on an old log. Even in the dark, Simon could tell they were arguing. They were trying to be quiet at least.

“This is the third time he’s lost control Malcolm,”

“It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose!”

“The point is he isn’t doing it on purpose! That’s what makes it more dangerous!”

Oh. Simon’s stomach dropped. Of course they’re arguing about me again.

He and Carver had been play-fighting by the creek this morning. He’d purposefully been sticking close to his brother because the butcher’s son, William, had been picking fights with Carver lately. Simon was trying to be a good big brother.

When William had shown up, all Simon had meant to do was scare him off. But then William had punched him, and then Carver had punched William, and then it had turned into a full-on fistfight. Simon was just trying to get the two of them to stop. And they had. Carver and William had both hit the ground hard. Simon still wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but it was obvious enough that it was magic. William had hit something when he fell, a rock maybe? He hadn’t gotten back up again. Carver had started crying.

Father had found them, and father had fixed things. Father was always good at fixing things. He’d healed William, though the boy had still been sleeping when they fled the village.

Simon glanced back into the tent to check on Carver. He seemed alright. Thank the Maker. Still snoring away, seemingly without a care. Simon hadn’t meant for the spell to hit him. He hadn’t meant to use his magic at all.

It was, as Mother had said, the third time since his magic developed that he had accidentally revealed the family’s secret. It was the first time he’d accidentally used magic on the family.

“Magic is dangerous, Leandra. You knew that when you chose to run away with me.”

“Yes, but we have a family now. We need to keep the children safe.” Mother’s voice had a raspy quality, as if she’d been crying. Simon was always making his mother cry.

“What’s that supposed to mean? We’ve talked about this. Leaving keeps us safe.”

“All I mean is,” Mother’s voice caught on something, and she took a breath and tried again, “Malcolm you’ve tried your best. But we have two other children to worry about. It might be time to think about...to think about what the best option for all of us is.”

Simon felt the air leave his lungs. Mother couldn’t mean--

“Please tell me you aren’t suggesting we send him to a Circle.”

“Malcolm, please just listen,” Father interrupted her, “No. The answer is no. We aren’t doing that.”

Simon saw the shape of his father get up and storm of into the trees. He heard his mother’s soft sobs.

Eventually, the camp became quiet again. And Simon sat silently in front of the slim opening of his tent, watching the stars, and thinking about how long it might be before Mother won this particular argument. And what he might be able to do to convince her he could stay.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 1

Humble Beginnings and Weirdly Colour-Coordinated Aliens

This is Alexandra Duchelli, or Alex. Welcome to this legacy challenge simlit story, where we try to experience as much as possible. Right, Alex?

“Awesome, legacies are so much fun! Big houses, amazing clothes, great adventures! I can’t wait!”

Uhm, Alex? You’re a founder. You don’t have any money, remember?

“Oh. Crap.”

Yup. So you better start earning some money so you can get a roof over your head as soon as possible.

“I don’t even have a toilet!”

There’s a bush.

“… Right, better get going.”

After Alex grumbles through the first chords, we try the city to see if we can get some tips.

Poor Alex isn’t having much luck, and mostly receives smug looks from stuck-up townies.

Giving up on the tips for now, Alex goes to the karaoke club to brush up on her singing skills as well. You can’t be a singer-songwriter if you can’t sing.

This is also a great time for you to socialise, Alex! You should try meeting some new people.

“Some of these townies are a bit too friendly!”

Oh shush, stop complaining.

“Seriously, can I go home? Everyone in this city is weird!”

Oh come on, you’re just overreacting because you’re embarrassed that someone saw your attempt at swiping a drink. Maybe stay on the right side of the bar next time?

“No, I’m serious. There’s a man and a small girl outside just… staring… at a brick pillar.”

… Fine, you can go home.

“I’m not sure this is better.”

Shush, we need to get enough money that you’re allowed to get a job. And the tips are too slow.

“Isn’t it a bit counter-intuitive that I need to earn money before I can get a job?”

I don’t make the rules, Alex. Besides, I’m busy worrying about the aliens.

“The aliens?”

Yes. Apparently, the aliens are flocking to Oasis Springs, and somehow they mostly manage to be beautifully colour-coordinated. It’s honestly a bit unsettling.

Anyways, we need to find you a husband, This is a legacy, after all. How about this handsome fellow?

“Uhm… he seems a bit bookish. What about that hot guy over there?”

Oh honey. That’s Don Lothario. He’s bad news, you won’t get anywhere with him in a legacy, he’s non-committal. He’d be great as one of those enemies you’re supposed to get, though?

Alex catches up with the neighbours and even scores a dinner invitation to the Caliente house.

Nina: “Oh yeah, Don lives here too. Mom moved him in, she claimed she thought he would be a great fit for me or Dina, but I think she really wants him for herself. Anyways, no one is getting anywhere with him, he’s completely useless.”

“Alright, I’ll give up on Don. I guess I’ll find someone a bit less…occupied.”

Alex, who are you talking to? You should be in bed, or, I mean, tent, those skill points take energy.

“Oh, I just met these guys. This is Johnny and Malcolm. Apparently they’re brothers but there’s a lot of drama going on in the family.”

“Eww, can I have something else to eat soon?”

I mean, sure, you can buy all the food you want, but then it’ll just take longer for you to get a job, and thus to get a husband and a roof over your head?

“Dammit!”

As we head to the museum, I wonder. Is throwing up on a canvas art?

We also need those handiness skills, so Alex starts some woodworking.

Meanwhile, I am distracted by the amazing choice of shoes here.

Alex, wasn’t there a vase there, just a second ago?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”

And so it continues on, with dumpster meals…

… voice training…

… more dumpster meals…

… and more impeccably clad aliens.

next

[mirkwoodshewolf]

No Following; Planet of the apes fanfic Chap. 12

*Author's note*

Now that I'm back from my mini-vaca at Hershey Park, I can once again start posting for this story again. Now I've officially ended the DOTPOTA movie and so after I post up the last chapter I've got for ya'll today, you will see events that'll play out between DAWN & WAR. But be prepared, for once War starts, I'll really be pulling on the ANGST for this story.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

___________________________________________________

My head was spinning with too many thoughts that night so I didn’t really sleep at all.  Just lay there in my tent with Toboe’s head resting over my stomach and my hand stroking through his red fur.  His ears soon perked up as he woke up and let out a curious grunt before peeking outside the tent.  I crawled after him and stood over him and saw a sight I’d never thought I’d never see again.

A bond between Man and Ape in a positive light.  Alexander and Maurice were both sitting side by side while Alex was reading to Maurice his graphic novel.  Pointing out each word slowly and telling him what ‘hanging out’ meant.  Maurice seemed intrigued by the word as he began grunting and waving his arm about.

It brought me back to the days when Caesar was a young chimp and I was teaching him how to read.  He always got so excited when it came to reading and learning new words, sometimes you’d have to wrestle a book away from him.  I smiled at the sight as I scratched Toboe’s ear and he let out a few pleasured grunts and huffs.

If only people could see that any animal, no matter what they are aren’t just mindless beasts. But intelligent, gentle creatures whose soul can reflect your own.

I patted at his side and he allowed me to come out first before following me.  Maurice and Alexander soon looked up at me and I gave them a soft smile.

“Don’t mind me, just needed to stretch myself out.” I reached up to the sky as some of my bones began popping back into place.  Maurice then signed to me.

‘Caesar is allowing you until nightfall to finish your work.’

“Tell him thank you for us. And succeed or fail, we’ll leave and never come back. As agreed.” I told him.

“What did he say?” asked Alexander.

“We have until nightfall to finish up with the dam. So we better get started now.” Everyone soon got out of their tents and we all gathered up the tools and equipment we needed this time to get the generators working as well as the pipes running that were now accessible thanks to the apes and Toboe who cleared out the debris.

We arrived back at the dam and we all got to work until nightfall came.  Currently Ellie and I were standing on top of the stairway that lead down to the tunnels where Malcolm was preparing to start the pipes back up in order to switch on the power, while the rest of the guys were triple checking to make sure the hydro’s were ready to go.

“We’re lucky we got as much time as we did today.” Stated Ellie.  “Even if this was all for nothing, we can at least tell Dreyfus we tried.”

“It won’t matter in the end.” I told her.

“Lin.”

“You know what humans are really like Ellie. At the first sign of trouble or at the thought that we’ve lost control, we retaliate with violence and rage. That’s what sets us apart from the apes. At least they have a semblance of peace and will only attack if provoked. Humans, we don’t need a reason to kill, to rape, to seek out war. We just do it because we can.”

“What happened to you to make you think this way Lin?” Ellie asked me.

“Let’s just say…..there’s a part of me you wish you never met. And I hope you never do. Or the people who turned me into the woman I am now.” Before Ellie could say anything else, the loud humming of the hydro generators surrounded the entire dam.  The continuous humming and whirring sound gave all of us hope but we still waited another few minutes for something to happen.

However after two minutes of continuous running, there was no doubt about it now.  We got it working.  Soon the overhead lights above started flickering for a bit until finally they stayed on.

“It worked.” Gasped Ellie.  “It worked!” she then ran off to go call Malcolm.  My throat went dry as I hoped that the power would eventually reach the city and that Dreyfus’ threat of a war would be forgotten.

As the sky grew darker, we soon received word from the ape scouts that there was light shining within the forests.  Caesar along with some of his trusted apes guided us down the mountain and back onto the main road where we came upon the old gas station.  The entire place lit up with power. 

By god it was a miracle.  Kemp and Alexander raced inside the gas station and while Alexander was looking around inside to see what remained inside, Kemp went straight to the old record player that was by the register and began looking through various records.  We watched as he picked one out and placed it into the record player.

The speakers briefly gave a feedback sound before the gentle strums of an acoustic guitar sounded off playing a song.  It was a country song and even though I wasn’t a huge country fan, it still felt good to hear music that wasn’t the Star Spangled banner. Ellie and Malcolm could hardly believe that they were finally hearing music again, Foster smiled widely and began doing a little dance while inside Kemp and Alexander cheered and started dancing with each other.

As the artist’s voice continued to sing the song, Caesar urged his horse from the front entrance of the gas station towards us.  He soon stopped before Malcolm and Malcolm said.

“It worked. Well, at least here it did, we’ll know when we get back to the city.” Caesar looked back towards the repowered gas station, his green eyes shimmering against the lights before he turned back to Malcolm and he told him.

“Trust.” He extended out his hand to Malcolm and he accepted Caesar’s hand.  Toboe looked up at me, his ears softly twitching at the sound of the music playing.  I scratched his head before standing on the other side of Caesar.  He then turned to me and I said with a grateful smile.

“Thank you. We really couldn’t have done this without you and your people’s help.” My heart sunk as tears built behind my eye lids but I refused to let them out.  I won’t let the final moment between Caesar and I be one with tears again.

I soon felt his finger slowly lift my chin just like he did when we said our goodbyes all those years ago.

“Follow.” He said to me.  I tilted my head before he touched my bicep and pulled me closer to his horse.  I looked up at him and he gave me a look as if he were telling me to get on.  I adjusted myself before mounting onto Caesar’s horse, scooting up until my chest met with his back.  He turned back to Malcolm and said to him, “Follow.”

His horse soon moved forward and Malcolm and the others followed shortly behind us.  But just as we left the gas station, I took notice of how Toboe briefly stopped before racing off in a whole new direction further down the road.

“Toboe? Toboe!” I called out.  But he didn’t return to my command.  Caesar turned to me wondering if he should stop but I figured the pup must’ve found a rabbit or something.  Had been awhile since he’s eaten and since he couldn’t hurt any of the apes, his hunger must finally be getting the better of him now.  “It’s fine, he’ll be fine.”

‘You are sure?’ he signed to me.

“He’s gotta learn on his own right? And I gotta give him room to grow into the wolf he is. Let’s continue onto camp.” Caesar nodded and we proceeded onward.

Now I had thought we’d be heading back to our camp to pack everything up so that we could head for the city to check and see if power had been fully restored all the way to them.  But Caesar surprised all of us when he took us to his home.  We first got off his horse before helping me off and lead me in first followed by Ellie, Malcolm, Alexander, Foster and then Kemp.

The apes all looked at the new members who had never been here before with curious eyes and anxious gibbering.  Caesar lead us towards an incline near his family nest and helped me and Ellie climb up it safely until we reached the top of it.  As soon we all got to the top Caesar pointed outward and said to us.

“The….lights.” and there it was.  The San Fransisco skyline.  Jesus I had almost forgotten just how beautiful the city was when it was lit up at night.  My breath was taken away by the sight of it all, oh if only Will, Caroline and grandpa were here to see this.  Soon mine, Caesar’s Malcolm’s and Ellie’s attention was drawn upward to the sound of a baby chimp gibbering.

We looked up and there stood Caesar’s wife Cornelia standing and walking like nothing had been wrong with her.  Ellie you did it again.  I felt Caesar’s hand take mine and he gave me a soft nod as he smiled warmly at me.  He then lead me further up the incline to where Cornelia was and as he walked up to her he signed to her.

‘Feeling better?’ Cornielia nodded as Caesar cupped the back of her head and the two lovers pressed their foreheads together.  I almost felt like third wheel but that’s when both Ape King and Queen turned their attention to me.

‘Hello.’ I signed to Cornelia.  ‘My name is Lin. I’m a fri…..’

‘My sister.’ Caesar then signed.  My heart skipped a beat, old feelings of being referred to as Caesar’s older sister came flooding back as Caesar continued to sign to his wife with a warm smile, ‘Lin is my big sister. She was the one who played the violin for us.’

Wait so—Cornelia was at the San Bruno shelter too? Cornelia walked up to me, cradling the baby in her arms as she looked at me softly hooting.  The light from the torches reflected her warm green eyes before she placed a hand behind my head and pressed my forehead to hers.

She hooted lovingly as her hand continued to hold my head to hers.  I closed my eyes and accepted the offer and I even placed my hand behind her head.  After we separated she signed to me.

‘Thank you. And I remember your music. Gave me comfort when I was taken to human lab.’ I looked at her empathetically and signed.

‘I’ll take credit for the concert. But the healing all goes to my friend down there.’ I signed to her.  The baby chimp soon caught my attention as it reached out to me wanting me to hold him.  Cornelia then transferred her baby over to me.

I was nervous at first but she was adamant as she helped me hold her baby in the correct manner.

‘Deserve to meet youngest nephew properly.’ Nephew? Wow….I softly laughed as a sense of pride stirred inside of me that I hadn’t felt since the first day Caesar was brought into my life and uncle Will and I stayed with him in that steamy hot bathroom.  The baby took a hold of my finger as he curled against my chest and I looked to Caesar and said to him.

“Reminds me of you when you were first born. Clingy and adorable.” Caesar let out a huff as he signed with a cross look.

‘Don’t embarrass me.’

“I’m your big sister it’s my job.” I teased mockingly to which both Cornelia and I laughed as I transferred the baby back to his mother.  Caesar then lead the three of us to another part of the incline as Cornelia and I got better acquainted with each other.

‘You still perform music? I’d love for my sons to hear it one day.’ She signed to me.

‘Unfortunately I haven’t played music in the last 10 years. So many bad things happened to me and I….lost the music within me.’ I signed to her.  She hooted sadly.

‘Never truly gone. You once said that to us. Even though ape not be able to produce music like human, music still lives on inside you.’

“I knew I shouldn’t have given you guys such an important lesson in music. Getting my own words thrown back at me is not cool.” I verbally said.  Soon our attention turned towards a familiar young male blue-eyed ape.

He looked past me to his mother and signed as he looked at her in shock.

‘Mother…?’ the two of them walked towards each other and Cornelia reached out and lovingly stroked the back of her eldest son’s head.  Before he went in and tightly embraced her, the two of them rocking back and forth as Cornelia stroked her son’s head.

I could understand what this young ape felt, the last time he saw his mother she was at death’s doorstep and now to see her in picture-perfect health once again, he must’ve been so relieved to know that his mom was going to be okay.

After they separated, Cornelia gestured over to me and she told her son.

‘Go meet your aunt Lin.’ The young male ape looked between his mother and me skeptically.  Cornelia let out a firm hoot before pointing at me again.  The young male chimp slowly walked over to me and he looked me right in the eye.

‘You stopped man from killing me at river…..why?’ I had a feeling that’d be the first question he’d ask me.  I remembered the confliction on his face after that day, after his father and Koba fought at the dam.  But before I could sign back to him, a loud gunshot pierced the night air.

We all turned and I saw how Caesar was holding his left shoulder, just barely above his heart as he remained still.

“Caesar?” I softly called out to him.  He didn’t answer, only fell forward before disappearing into the dark abyss below the incline.  “CAESAR!!!! NOO!!!!” I cried out as I dove over the edge of the incline desperate to find him.

A panic soon rang out as the apes all cried out, Cornelia’s heartbroken cries shattered my heart as I desperately tried to find Caesar’s body but he was nowhere to be seen.  No, no, no he can’t be gone! He just can’t be gone! I won’t lose him again! From the light of the moon I soon saw a familiar shape resting on top of a log.

A colt M4A1 rifle.  My whole body went numb before I let out a rageful cry.  I ran down the incline and frantically searched until I found Malcolm and the others.  I saw nothing but red as I raced towards them and tackled Malcolm to the ground.

“WHOA LIN!” Ellie exclaimed.

“LIN WHAT THE HELL!?” cried out Foster and Kemp.

“WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS CARVER!?!?” I roared in Malcolm’s face.

“He-he’s down at the trucks where we left him. He….wait did he…..”

“Caesar’s dead! He’s dead because of you! BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T SAY NO IN BRINGING HIM!! IT’S YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT!” I roared as I slammed him into the ground repeatedly (much like Caesar did to Koba yesterday) but just before I could punch his face in, I felt a hand grab my wrist and when I went to turn and attack whoever it was that stopped me, my other wrist was grabbed and I was now staring into the eyes of Maurice.

He grumbled and pulled me off of Malcolm as the panicked apes finally brought the weapon into the light.

“HUMAN. GUN!” exclaimed a young male voice through his hoots.

“Run.” Maurice said as he looked to all of us.  Malcolm and the others immediately went running out of the colony.  I went to go after them but Maurice held me back as he cupped my face.  ‘Must not engage. Save yourself first. Koba will find you and kill you.’

“HUMANS. KILL. CAESAR!” Koba’s voice soon roared.  I turned and saw as the scarred bonobo began rallying all the apes to him as he held the very gun that was used to kill Caesar. “BURN. APE HOME!!” I finally took notice of how their sacred home was now turning into nothing but flames.  “GO! GET THEM! APES MUST ATTACK. HUMAN CITY!” I turned to Maurice worried for his safety when he told me.

“Run nightingale.” His deep, rumbling voice sent shivers down my spine but I obeyed his order and raced out as Koba’s voice continued to roar in anger and rage.

“FIGHT BACK! COME, FIGHT FOR CAESAR!!” I raced out the backway and through the darkness I could hear the sounds of all the apes running after me.

Running would be pointless at this point, I needed to find a place to hide.  I ran and jumped over boulders and hills to try and put more distance between me and the apes until I finally found a good tree trunk to hide under. 

I leapt over the tall roots and buried myself into the trunk of the tree and watched as all the apes hopped over me and raced on ahead to find Malcolm and his team, as well as head to San Fransisco to begin the war between Humans and Apes.

I held my hand over my mouth and nose and tried to keep as silent as I possibly could as the endless amount of apes continued to run past my tree.  The roots shaking as dust and dirt sprinkled down on top of me.

The only thing I could do was hide and pray that none of them turned around to search the roots.  I spent another sleepless night waiting until I heard the last of the apes leave the forest completely.

[colormepurplex2]

Flowers of Fate | Epilogue: A Story Written In The Stars

↳ UnseeliePrince!Yoongi x Human!f.Reader (ft.xUnseelieGuard!Jungkook x SeeliePrince!Jimin x WoodNymph!Namjoon) ⤜ Strangers to Bonded Mates ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 504 ⚠️ Self-reflection and feelings

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Monica

It’s been six months since you disappeared—one-hundred eighty-five days, to be exact.

After the first few months, Monica still hoped you would show up and say, ‘Surprise! Miss me? Sorry for worrying you’. But you didn’t. You haven’t. She’s finally coming to terms with the fact that you probably won’t. She still says probably because Malcolm insists she still needs to have some hope.

It was with hope that Monica went to the Samhain celebration at Bowhill House two days ago. She searched every vendor, food booth, and tent flap she could. But, still, you weren’t there. And now, she won’t be there either.

Malcolm moves through the bakery, ensuring everything is unplugged and ready to move into storage. “Ready tae go, love? When’s the flight again?” he asks after flipping off the lights in the back.

“Yeah. Our flight is in an hour. Are you sure your mom doesn’t need anything before we leave? It’s a long flight. She won’t be able to reach us until we land tomorrow morning.”

He gives her an amused smile. “I am sure. Ye worry too much aboot her.”

“She’s your mom, Mal. Of course I will worry about her. You’re her only son, and you’re about to move to the U.S. with a woman you only met six months ago. I’ve seen the looks she gives me.” Monica’s brow pinches, remembering how poorly his mom took the news when they told her Malcolm was shutting down the bakery but not just that, he was also going to be moving to the other side of the world with her.

He shrugs his big shoulders. “She’ll be braw once she realizes she can come visit and enjoy the warm weather. Come on, let’s go.” He grabs her hand and starts toward the shop door.

“Oh, wait! I forgot something. Hold on.” Monica pulls her hand from Malcolms and dips behind the front counter, looking for the silk bag she shoved to the back in a moment of frustration. “I meant to grab this earlier but…got…distracted. What the hell,” she says, her words coming out slow with confusion. When she tucked the bag under the counter, it only had her flower crown from Beltane in it. Now, though, it feels significantly bulkier. “Mal, did you put anything in this bag?”

“Bag? I dinnae kin that was even there.”

Her heart races as her fingers tug at the drawstring on the bag. She turns the bag over and shakes it out onto one of the cafe tables. “Oh my god,” she sobs, grabbing the circlet of fresh, beautiful flowers that tumbled out with the one covered in dried greenery and starchy petals. “She was here, Mal. This is hers!”

“Mo, look,” Malcolm says, brushing aside some of the crumbly petals on the table.

With trembling fingers, Monica picks up a tiny, worn leather notebook with pages of scribbled writing sticking out. In familiar, flowing script is scrawled a few short words across the front.

Tell my story ♡

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