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keywestlou · 2 years

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COW KEY MARINA

COW KEY MARINA - https://keywestlou.com/cow-key-marina/Steve Thompson wrote about Cow Key Marina. I never heard of Cow Key Marina. I've only been in Key West 30 years. Impossible to know everything. So I did a little homework this week preparatory to writing today's blog. Not easy. I found only one person other than Steve and Cindy who ever heard of the place. We begin with Steve's writing. Note it speaks of the 1970's. The Cow Key Marina was like nothing I had seen. It had chickens and a pump leaking gasoline. We always stopped there for fuel when on Phil's boat. If you saw the bar, you'd think it was a joke. The plywood floors looked like waves at sea. And low ceilings with no windows concerned me. It was so unusual, it's where a movie was made. It brought celebrities to town called, "92 In The Shade." Peter Fonda, Warren Oats, Burgess Meredith, Guy di la Valdene, and Jim Harrison were on a roll. Partied with Margot Kidder and Elizabeth Ashley like there was no tomorrow. It was Tom McGuane's first movie and actually a flop. If they had filmed themselves at night while partying, it would have gone to the top. So the Cow Key Marina remained the same for years. Old Roy at the bar sold us one dollar beers. It's all fixed up now like every tourist store. We all miss Roy and we don't go there anymore. I began my quest this past week on the internet. Sure enough, a Cow Key Marina was to be found. Limited information, information nevertheless. Spoke with Steve how to find the place. Actually located on Stock Island. Took a while. The Marina is located at the far end of Fifth Avenue. Address 5001. Steve described a shitbox. What I found was beautiful. A small clean active marina. Tiki hut sales shack. Showers and dressing rooms. And a restaurant. Two guys working the quiet marina. The restaurant/bar closed. It was obvious the restaurant/bar was not of yesteryear. Not the one described by Steve. This one was newly remodeled/rebuilt. Lovely deck. View magnificent. Reminded me of a dressed up Hogfish or Geiger Key. Smaller, however. The thought occurred Hogfish and Geiger Key were smaller 30 years ago. Bobby Mongelli expanded each over the years. Especially by adding tables in every nook and cranny. Parking sufficient. More than either Hogfish or Geiger Key. Then there is the road available to be utilized as with those two restaurants. One of the tiki hut workers was 30ish. Chatted with me. Told me the restaurant would be open in a month. Other persons I talked to as part of my inquiry said they were told the same thing 6 months ago. The fellow was not too bright. Never heard of Peter Fonda. Or his father Henry for that matter. Just kept repeating the place would be open in a month. Steve told me his 1970 days found chickens and rabbits galore running around. None visible on my visit. He described the place as a dump. No more. His experience began with the Chart Room. Everything begins with the Chart Room. Shooting was over at 4 in the afternoon. Stars and crew ran to the Chart Room. Tom Cochran bartending. Steve and his friends quickly became friends with the likes of Perter Fonda, etc. Partied at the Chart Room and Cow Key Marina with them. Steve telephoned yesterday morning to advise he had found the movie. 92 In The Shade had been released in 1975. I watched it. Steve said the crummiest movie he has ever seen. I agree. Without a doubt, the absolute worst. Mentioned it to Jean Thornton last night. Turns out she watched it years ago. Totally agreed. Watch it, however. An experience. The bar in the film doesn't look bad. I refer specifically to the bar and stools themselves. Nothing else. The movie was a box office failure. Someone described the movie as a "weird deadpan portrait of outsiders and oddballs living in Key West." An apt description. Roy the for real bartender at the Marina is actually in the movie. He plays himself. A restauranteur I am not. However it appears to my inexperienced eye that the Cow Key Marina restaurant/bar is a gold mine waiting to be discovered. It needs Bobby Mongelli or someone like him to reopen the place. Enjoyed a lovely meal and company Friday night. The evening began as planned with Jean and Joe Thornton at the Chart Room. We were joined by Laura. A friend of Jean's. Laura lived in Key West years ago. Rented a house for the month of December and is revisiting. A most interesting woman. A Virginian. A Washington lobbyist. We dined at the outside deck at the Pier House. The cold wind beating on us. Stone crabs the main course. Outstanding! I rarely get out these days. Enjoyed the evening and company tremendously. Syracuse played Notre Dame in basketball at Notre Dame at noon yesterday. What a game! Syracuse was back! Its record a poor 3-4 going into the game. Notre Dame 6-1. Syracuse won by a point 62-61. It was that kind of a game. Close throughout. Could have gone either way. Glad it went Orange! Joe Girard returned to form. He played very very poorly the past 3 games. Jesse Edwards was a center to be envied. It's Christmas time in the City! Key West brightly lite for the holiday. I am a Christmas softie at heart. Love it! Enjoy your Sunday!

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cathrrrine · 3 years

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The Devil's In The Details

Originally from my AO3

SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader

Chapter 3 - Little Angel

The sound of rain pattering against the roof of the car almost lulled you to sleep, so you turned up the music, hoping to wake yourself up a little with the upbeat tune playing on the radio. Your fingers tapped against the wheel, enjoying the rhythm of the song.

In front of you was the sleek, black 67’ Chevy Impala that you knew like the back of your hand. How could you not? You basically lived in it for more than half of your life—it was a home for you and your brothers because it was the one constant you had in your lives. You still remembered it’s every nook and cranny and the way the leather seat felt under your skin. If you closed your eyes you could still hear the hum of its engine.

You were following them from behind to drive to their bunker. A day ago you never even thought you’d say that you were going to meet your mom for the first time since you were two years old.

Steve knew about your past. You’ve laid all the cards on the table somewhere along your relationship. He knew about your brothers, your hunting life, the kind of monsters you’ve encountered. He was no stranger to the life you lived before you were an Avenger, so when you told him that your mother was brought back to life, he wasn’t that surprised.

Although he was shocked and in disbelief for a moment, it didn’t take too much to convince him that what you were saying was true. So, here you were with a bag packed if you had to stay overnight, on your way to meet Mary Winchester.

“Be careful, angel face. Call me as soon as you get there and call me if anything happens.” He had told you before you opened the door of your car. “Promise?”

“I promise, babe. Don’t worry about me.” You smiled as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m the one who should be worried. What if James gets his nightmares again?”

“Hey, hey. It’ll be fine. It’s not like this is the first time it will be just the two of us.” He chuckled, looking down to James who was hugging your leg tightly. “Right bud?”

“I’m gonna miss mommy.” He pouted, and you couldn’t resist the urge to bend down and pick him up, setting him on your hip.

“Mommy’s gonna miss you too, pumpkin.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. “Take care of daddy for me, okay?”

“Will you be gone a long time again?”

“No, it won’t be long, baby.” You assured him, but a small part of you wondered if that was going to be the case. You hoped what you said to him was true. Spending a long time away from your baby seemed like a nightmare. “Before you know it, I’ll be here to plant kisses on your cheeks again.”

He giggled, “Okay, mommy.” He grabbed your hair in his tiny fists, making you scrunch your nose up in fondness. After handing him to Steve, Tony and Natasha went over to hug you, knowing that what you were about to face was anything but easy.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”

“You know the drill. Call me if you need me.”

Their support meant everything to you. In the whole six years of knowing them, you’ve begun to think of them as family.

You slowed the car down as you turned to a narrow intersection, and you hit the brakes as soon as the Impala in front of you came to a stop.

The place you were parked in front of fit the word ‘bunker’ perfectly. It wasn’t anything flashy or shiny, just a concrete building on a small hill that was covered with patches of dry grass and soil.

You pressed the button that stopped the car engine—thanks to Tony, everyone on the team was suited with high-tech equipment—and stepped out of the car, walking towards your brothers who had done the same.

“This is the bunker, huh?” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket, already feeling the chilly breeze.

“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy like your tower. But we make do.” Dean replied with a sharpness to his tone, not even bothering to make eye contact. He strolled off to the entrance and you followed behind, keeping your distance.

When you stepped in, you took in all of it with a wave of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. You observed the layout of the building; the metal railings in front of you, the high ceilings and the tiled walls. There was a octagon-shaped table with a built-in map on the glass surface, a number of cushioned chairs surrounding it.

You gawked in awe, it wasn’t anything you had expected. Part of you was jealous that your brothers had found the bunker after you had left, but there was a bigger part of you that was elated that your brothers had made it into a home of their own.

You could tell they did so. You recognised a few of their own stuff scattered here and there throughout the room; Sam’s jacket draped over a chair, a coffee mug on the table, a pair Dean’s sunglasses that he had worn since he was 20 near it. It was all just little things, but they were personal items that made it obvious that the space belonged to them.

The three of you had spent so many years living from motel to motel that having a consistent place to go back to every time seemed like heaven. You already knew how that felt like, and you were glad they did too.

“Yeah.” Sam whispered from behind you. “I know.” He saw the glint in your eye when you looked around the room.

You pursed your lips, not knowing what to say.

“Mom’s in there.” Dean pointed through an archway, you looked through it and saw a row of tables lined up. “She knows we brought you.”

You gulped, nervous and excited at the same time. You could feel your heart throbbing in your chest. I’m not ready for this.

“She’s waiting, Y/N.” Sam put a hand on your shoulder, albeit a little reluctantly. “It’s okay.”

Your feet dragged itself to walk down the stairs and through the archway, finding that it was a library room as soon as you saw the bookracks that lined the walls. It was a well-lit space, with a number of magnificent pillars standing in between the bookracks and the tables.

“Y/N.”

You whipped your head around to see a blonde woman with familiar gray-blue eyes, the same ones you’ve seen in your reflection. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of her. It seemed like a dream to see someone you’ve only ever seen in pictures in the flesh.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her lips curled up into a small smile as she tried to make light of the situation. Mary took one step towards you. She wasn’t sure what was going through your head, she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but all she wanted to do was scoop you up into her arms and embrace you in a bone-crushing hug.

“M-mom.” You stuttered, tears welling up in your eyes. You were at a loss for words. “Hi.”

“Oh, my little angel.” She ran to you, unable to contain it anymore. You let her wrap her arms around you as you nuzzled your face in the crook of her neck. “You’ve gotten so big. Look at you!”

Mary missed her daughter. She wasn’t too glad to hear that you had broken off from the family and didn’t stay in contact with Sam and Dean. Even though she was more than happy to be with her sons, her heart ached at the absence of her only daughter at their reunion, not knowing if she’ll ever get to see you at all.

“I missed you, mom.” You exhaled a shaky breath into her shoulder, arms still wrapped around her like you were clinging on for dear life. She was well aware how meaningful this was for you. For her, it felt like it was just yesterday that she was tucking all of you in bed, but it had been more than thirty years since you last saw her, and that hurt her very deeply. It was emotional for her too, and a little bit strange, but she couldn’t deny that what you were going through was different from what she was feeling.

“God, you’re not so little anymore. I can’t believe it.” She pulled away, wiping the tears off your cheeks with her hands and kissing the top of your head. “I missed you too.”

“I don’t think you know this yet,” you beamed when a thought popped into your head. “I’m a mom now, too.”

“Y/N! That’s amazing.” Her eyebrows shot up, a big grin starting to grow on her face. “You know, I’ve always wanted a grandchild, but this feels weird considering the fact that I still think you’re two years old.”

You laughed, tears still flowing greatly down your cheeks. “Do you want to meet him?”

“Of course, honey. More than anything.” Then she started to wonder, “Do I...get to meet the father too?”

“Yeah, yes please.” Another breathy laugh escaped your lips again, the joy bubbling in your chest was too much to be contained. “His name is Steve Rogers. He’s a great guy, mom. You’ll love him.”

“What about your baby?

“James. He’s three!” You chortled, face beaming with pride. “I have so much to tell you, Mom. You have no idea.”

She brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “I’m here, Y/N. You can tell me all about it.”

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the two men seated on the chairs in the room next to you had been listening quietly to your conversation. Sam threw a look at Dean, a stern gaze that was so bone-chilling, it even made Dean shift in his seat.

“He’s three Dean. She has a three year old son.”

“So?” He tried to look unbothered.

“Don’t you feel any remorse? Regret? She’s been alone all these years without us and we never even sent her a text.”

“She hasn’t been alone, Sammy. She’s obviously had that Captain America dude around for a while, not to mention that she’s friends with the literal Avengers.”

“You know that is not what I mean.” Sam scowled. “We’re her brothers, Dean. We should’ve been there nonetheless.”

Dean rolled his eyes, returning the same dirty look to him before standing up and heading to the kitchen. “I’m not talking about this now.”

Sam sighed, leaning back on his chair as he watched his brother walk away helplessly. He knew pushing him further would do no good.

This was hard for him. Y/N had been there for all his life, before they separated. She always had his back. When he got in trouble, she defended him. When Dean was a bit too annoying, she defended him. And when he wanted to go to Stanford, she defended him. She had been his biggest supporter and was nothing but a good sister to him. He wished he realised that before it was too late.

No matter the hardships he had been through all his life, he knew one thing for sure; his biggest mistake was abandoning Y/N all those years ago.

Would she forgive him for a sin so cruel?

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x winchester! reader #the devil's in the details spn x mcu #marvel reader insert #avengers reader insert #spn x mcu #supernatural x marvel #mary winchester

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morguenecrosis · 2 years

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Are you a hive mind? Like you’re in all of our ears at once right? So does that mean you’re just multiple linked instances of the same being? And doesn’t that mean that in theory your mini yous could all come together and merge into your final form?

What a good question 😊

I'm everywhere all the time, I'm in all the nooks and crannies waiting, I'm not just the funky little man who lives in your ears I live many other places, places you don't look or know

In the very back of the fridge where food gone bad has been forgotten, under your bed playing poker with the monster that used to scare you as a child, in the closet behind the pieces of cloths you stopped wearing or grew out of, in the air ducts and pipes making all those weird noises and bumps in the night that keep you up, inside the trunk of your car hitching a ride for free, on the ceiling in the corner scratching lottery tickets with the spider that lurks there with me, right here right now within your phone screen staring back at you through your own reflection, I am you, I am in your ear right now whispering subliminal messages right into your brain that will turn you into someone that has a foot fetish, someone who would go into a bathroom stall lock in from the inside and crawl out so that nobody else could get in without crawling under the door, someone who un-ironically listens to Weezer and only Weezer, someone who would pee on a tree in a public park, and someone who would drink orange juice after brushing their teeth bc they love the pain

So am I a hive mind? Sure you could say that, but I'm also slowly taking over your body from the inside, now what does that make me? Huh?

Go to bed child, stop asking questions, sleep... You like feet you like Weezer orange juice and toothpaste piss on the tree you like feet

#horror #tw dereality

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kippykasey · 3 years

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Snowdrop Chpt 4

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4115

Series Summary: Bringing Zemo in to help fight against the rise of the new group of super soldiers brings in a new, yet familiar face into the mix.

Chapter Summary: The team found the refugee camp and now look for information on Donya Madani.

Chapter Warnings: Episode level violence.

A/N: If you missed it there is now a drabble that talks a bit more about how Reader got the nickname 'Amazing Grace'. Also send me feedback! I would love to hear your thoughts about the story so far.

Disclaimer: All languages that are not English were provided by Google translator with the translations following in bolden italics. Gifs used were found under the gif tab provided by tumblr.

Catch up on Snowdrop here: (1) (2) (3)

Sam was on the phone with a member of the air force to get information on Donya Madani, the refugee that is the next lead. Bucky was lounging on a sofa-like bench intently trying to clean his metal hand. With a slight nudge to the man’s leg on the seat he pulled it in, not looking up at the woman who lowered herself into the seat across from him, one leg tucked underneath herself. She held her hand out wiggling her fingers next to where his eyes were trained on his own hands. The blue eyes raised up off his hands to look into her waiting eyes. His eyes rolled as he silently placed the cloth into her hand, extending his arm so his hand was in her reach. She silently began to clean, his hand making sure to get into every nook and cranny that she could.

Sam’s call with Torres ended and he sat down letting out a deep sigh. Bucky turned his head, pulling his eyes away from the smaller hands working to clean his prosthetic. “You okay?” the man across the aisle from him turned his head to look at him before looking back up at the dimly lit ceiling of the plane. “Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through. And Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. How many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”

Bucky’s attention turned back down to the palm of his hand that was now in the process of being cleaned. “Well it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.” (Y/n) never looked up from her task as she listened. Barnes turned back to Sam making sure he understood that he was fully listening. “Yeah, I get that all right. Maybe I made a mistake.” There was a slight nod from Bucky as he verbally agreed, “You did.” There was a slight pressure in his hand as it was squeezed by the woman as a sign of her disapproval.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. I should have destroyed it.” Sam’s admission made her raise her head and look over at him, her hand stopping from cleaning. “That shield may cause a lot of fuss but it also means alot to some people. It’s the person behind the shield that brings a problem.” The woman spoke up for the first time. Bucky say up pulling his hand out of her grasp while doing so, “Like me, that shield means something to me. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from Walker myself.” Conversation paused and like she always did a comforting hand rubbed small circles in the ex Winter Soldier’s back. The anger slowly left his face in the blank stare he mastered, but there was a softness in his eyes.

Zemo carried over some food as Sam answered his ringing phone. He passed one of the plates over to the two ex HYDRA soldiers and set the other down for Sam. Sam spoke on the phone, most likely to Torres, while he watched the two across from him effortlessly pick at the plate they were sharing. “They found Madani...dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.” Sam informed everyone. Zemo holds a finger up and nods, “I have a place we can go.” The baron sits back in his seat, “I for one am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli.”

With the new heading set and food eaten everyone was settling for the remainder of the flight, and most likely to sleep. Bucky was still on the sofa, one leg out on the bench the other hanging off the edge. The nurse was tucked up in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Bucky’s eyes were already closed as he started to drift to sleep. However the woman he held onto was still awake looking across the aisle and out the window of the plane. Her view was blocked by Sam as he came back from the restroom. He turned to face them and their eyes met for a moment before he glanced over at Zemo who had a sleep mask over his eyes. “So what’s the story between you two? Were you two ever like a thing?” Sam’s voice was soft not to disturb those already asleep, especially Bucky.

“No. When we first met I was engaged. Not saying HYDRA didn’t want us to be.” She answered looking slightly up at the sleeping man holding her so casually. “What do you mean?” The woman’s eyebrows furrowed and she just slightly nuzzled into the warm chest below her, the owner’s arms flexing around her waist. “They wanted us to reproduce and create genetic super soldiers. Never got that far.” Sam watched how peaceful the two looked laying together on the small sofa bench, comfortable even. “You went back for him and you were engaged.” Sam pointed out to her. “He saved me. That day Steve broke him out of isolation in that camp. He came for me. Since then I swore myself I would keep those two idiots safe. I think my engagement unofficially ended the day I refused to get on that plane to the US and instead became the nurse for the Commandos.” A ghost of a smile appeared on the woman’s face as she went on. “He ended up having a son, who turned out just like his dad. Even had a granddaughter too. I got the chance to meet them, kind of. Maybe once this is all over I’ll get the family I wanted.” Her voice slowly began to soften into a slur as she began to fall asleep.

Sam sat there for a moment. He never thought Bucky Barnes could ever look so peaceful but he did. Normally even napping the man was stiff as a board but this was completely different. Here he was asleep, head lulled to the side resting against the back of the sofa, a woman in his arms, and not a scowl or anything visible on his face. It's interesting how much you can learn from someone just from watching them sleep, as weird as that may be. Sam smiled at the two before turning his head and letting himself fall asleep.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Riga, Latvia was the new location the group found themselves in. The group walked in a ‘T’ shape, Zemo leading with the other three following, (Y/n) in the middle. As Zemo led the way he mentioned Sokovia and how it was taken over by the neighbors before the land could even be cleaned up. Now it doesn’t even exist. As they turned the corner to one of Zemo’s many residences Bucky began to fall back from the group.

“James?” The soft voice of the nurse called to him. The man’s head turned to her and smiled softly. “I’m just going to go on a walk.” His statement drew the other two men’s attention as they stopped walking to turn towards the taller man. “You good?” Sam asked. “Yeah,” Bucky started to walk backwards. “I’ll see you guys in a bit.” The nurse turned to follow out of habit but Sam wrapped his arm around her. “He’ll be okay.” He told her even as her eyes still trailed Bucky as he left for his walk.

With the three of them now inside the apartment sized space (Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair hissing slightly at the knots and tangles in it. “You really care for him don’t you?” Sam asked her softly, making the woman glance at him with large doe eyes playing innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Wilson.” She tapped against the bar top that she leaned against and looked at Sam. “I am curious though, Bucky’s new arm, where is it from?” Sam crossed his arms looking at the woman who wouldn’t meet his eye, “Wakanda. He spent some time there.” She nods and smiles at the realization that the metal his arm was made out of. “I visited Wakanda once. Back in, well I guess it was 1940 maybe even 1939 I can’t remember exactly. It’s where I was proposed to. It’s probably much different now than it was then. Maybe in the future I can see it again.” Sam watched the far off look clouding over her eyes. The conversation died after that, neither pushing farther.

Zemo had taken a bath before Bucky had returned, the closing of the doors announcing his arrival. “Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.” Bucky spoke as he walked towards the bar where everyone was centered around. “Ouch Sam.” The nurse hissed as the comb Sam had been pulling through her hair got caught. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. “Were you followed?” Sam asked, ignoring the woman as he put down the comb. “No.” Although amused by Sam combing someone’s hair, his voice didn’t reveal anything. “How can you be so sure?” Zemo asked, peeking through the stained glass window. The nurse’s head whipped around as she stared at the back of the baron’s head like he was crazy. “‘Cause I know when I’m being followed.”

Zemo turned from the window to look at Bucky, “It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” Sam merely turned his head over his shoulder to speak to the German. “Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.” The woman in the room rolled her eyes as she hopped off the bar stool she was perched on to walk behind the bar. Her hand just barely brushed Bucky’s back, unseen by anyone else in the room, as she passed to grab a glass and pour herself a drink as she listened to the men. “Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes moved left and right, “There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Zemo raised a hand to point at the only woman in the room, “She wanted to.”

“Sam,” Bucky called, drawing an end to their little argument. Sam turned his attention to Barnes who was standing on the opposite side of the bar from him. “What?” Bucky glanced up from his phone for a moment before informing him, “Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.” “What? What’s the damage?” The slight influx in Sam’s voice showed slight surprise and interest. “Eleven injured, three dead.” The nurse next to Bucky looked over his shoulder. “Where is it close enough to help?” She asked, trying to see a location. “Sugar, you are more help with us,” Bucky told her before continuing to inform Sam, “They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.” Sam let out a deep sigh, one that could visibly be seen pulling the man’s shoulders down. “She’s getting worse.” Helmut pointed out the obvious. He stood at the end of the bar between both Sam and Bucky. “We,” He began before the nurse shook her head and pointed at him. “Nuh-uh. Do not wrap me in with you. I’m done. I am here to help because of the serum. As soon as this is all over I am going with Sam or Bucky.”

“Fine. I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?” The Baron tried again this time changing his phrasing. “She’s just a kid.” Sam reminded him. Zemo turned to him and shook his head. “You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Sam sat back as he listened, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist.” Bucky’s head tilted and his eyes glanced over at the woman slightly behind him who was looking down at the floor with her arms crossed. “The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.” Bucky walked around to the opposite side of the bar from Zemo and leaned against it. “Hey, those are our friends you’re talking about,” Sam warned. “The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky quickly added which made the ex World War II nurse smile and nod her head.

“So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.” Sam turned so he was talking to everyone even if his eyes were primarily on Zemo. The nurse opened her mouth but Zemo began to talk, cutting off what she had to say, “The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from the supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her.” There was a pregnant pause before he adds an afterthought, “Or she kills you.”

Bucky stands up straight as he looks at the man who just spoke, “Maybe you’re wrong Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve or (Y/n).” The German raised a finger and his eyebrows. “Touche. Yet the former Amazing Grace did turn her back on everything to come after you and helped you within her own free will. She’s probably more guilty than you are. So there really has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?” The woman’s eyes never left the floor as she quickly shuffled her way out from behind the bar to try and get away from the conversation. Yet she was stopped by Bucky who gave her a concerned look. She shook her head and moved farther away.

Her mind involuntarily flashing through ever murder she was assigned to help the Winter Soldier with. She lowered herself onto the couch and held her head trying to will the memories to go away. She could feel the intense concerned look on her back from Bucky as he spoke. “Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” His voice got closer as he neared the woman currently lost in the dark corners of her mind. “And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked while opening cabinets. “Yes.” Bucky’s answer was as firm as the warm hand that fell onto the woman’s shoulder.

“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right? So when I was a kid my TT passed away.” Sam spoke as Bucky’s hand rubbed gentle circles around the woman’s back as he sat next to her, the way he remembers her comforting him years before. His hand hesitates just as much as his voice as he asks, “Your TT?” Sam turns to him and nods, “Yeah my TT.” Bucky’s face scrunched up in confusion as he slowly started to rub her back again, “Who is your TT?” Sam rolled his eyes and holds his arms up, “Fine. When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.”

(Y/n) slowly raised her head as she focused on what Sam said instead of the nightmares in her memories. “It’s worth a shot.” Bucky comments looking back at the woman next to him. She looked into his eyes and he gave her a silent nod of understanding. She leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment and took a deep breath. Then under her breath she whispered to him, “Do you think Sam was a dorky looking kid?” She felt his shoulder shake in a small silent laugh. “Definitely.” The two laughed silently as Zemo made a comment about how Sam’s TT would be proud of him. The woman stood up and ruffled the dark hair of the man next to her, earning her one of his signature stares. “I’m going to wash up a bit then we can head into town and look for more leads.” She told them men before leaving to the bathroom.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

With their trusty ‘tour guide’, as he so graciously called himself, the group headed out to gather information. Zemo talked about the location they were at with fond memories from his childhood where the place they stood once was home to grand parties. Standing at the entrance the group divided into two. Zemo and Bucky stayed on the ground lever and courtyard while Sam and (Y/n) went to see what was upstairs.

(Y/n) stayed at Sam’s side but followed his lead as she looked around the building. Spotting a kid Sam followed him, calling out to him once, as they entered what looked to be a workplace for seamstress’. “Excuse me, have you heard of Donya Madani?” Sam spoke gently but the women quickly got up and left. Sam looked over his shoulder at the woman scanning the room behind him, then adjusted the case in front of him to show her the red handprint symbol of the flag smashers. They continued to walk through the upstairs rooms, each time they came across someone to ask about Donya they would quickly leave the room. Each room having at least one item with the flag smasher’s insignia on it. (Y/n)’s brow had furrowed by the second room. She glanced out the window, down at the courtyard where she could see Bucky and Zemo.

Finally they moved onto probably the final room, a small smile falling onto the woman’s face as she saw the children’s crafts in the makeshift classroom. “Excuse me.” Sam called out to the sole teacher in the room, who was kneeling down next to one of the desk’s helping a child. The man turned his head towards them and Sam continued to ask him, “Do you know a woman by the name of Donya Madani? She was a refugee here.” The man stood and turned towards Sam. “We’re not refugees, for we have nothing to seek refuge from. We’re internationally-displaced persons, for what it's worth, and we don’t trust outsiders.” The man pat the student he was helping on the back as if giving him permission to leave since the kid stood and exited the room.

“No, I understand, “ Sam spoke and there was a certain calmness to his voice, something soothing about it. “I’m not from here, but I have a pretty good track record of helping out.” The man in front of her looked as non threatening as he could make himself so she tried to relax and do the same but her eyes kept scanning the room as she listened. “I know what happens when people say they’re going to help. Nothing. The Global Repatriation Council promised to send more teachers, supplies. That was six months ago.” The woman’s head snapped around at the news. How could things have gotten so bad? She frowned as she looked over to the two smaller children in the room. “What’s your name? Maybe I can make a call?” The man shook his head. “I know who you are. But I can’t trust you. I’m sorry. “ He turned to the two children, picking one up as the other went to leave the room. Sam watched them leave and the woman behind him ran her hand over one of the desks. “Sam,” She whispered out the raw emotion for how much she wanted to help these people clear in her voice. “I know.” His voice, while more stable, held the same sadness in it. “Let’s head back down.”

Sam and (Y/n) came to stand on either side of Bucky who was watching Zemo interact with some local kids. “It’s starting to feel like a dead end.” Sam mentions as he too watched Zemo. “The hell is he doing?” Bucky said the same question they were all asking themselves. “Being smart. We won’t get anything out of the adults, they don’t trust us. Kids however, they don’t know any better yet. Is that...turkish delight?” Her head tilted to the side as she watched. Zemo stood and handed a handful of the candy to the children. The baron then turned to walk over and join the waiting trio. “Cute kids.” He comments, walking by the three of them. “He’s up to something and I don’t like it.” (Y/n) muttered putting her hands into the back pockets of her pants.

Without much information to go on they returned back to the apartment. “I got nothin’.” Bucky sighed, “No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Zemo made a straight line to pour himself a drink while Bucky went to sit on the couch along with Sam and (Y/n). “No surprise there.” She comments before Sam explains,” Karli is the only one fighting for them. They have no need to cross her. And she’s not wrong.” Bucky sighs, turning his head towards them. “What do you mean?” Sam slaps his knees and holds his head back for a moment. “For five years people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbed wire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom.” Sam snapped to make emphasis on the event that brought everyone back. “Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them at least Karli’s doin’ somethin’.”

“You really think her ends justify her means? Then she’s no different than him or anybody else we’ve fought.” Bucky replied, gesturing to Zemo who was pouring himself tea. “She’s different from them. She’s not motivated by the same things.” Zemo carried in the tray that held all of the fixings for the tea he had just prepared. Bucky turned to him, “That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Zemo looked at each of them before answering as he set the tray onto the table. “The funeral is this afternoon.”

The information peeked everyone’s attention. Out of the corner of her eye (Y/n) watched as Bucky’s jaw muscle flexed, a sign that he was annoyed or getting upset. “You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” However the threat didn’t scare Zemo into telling him any more. “Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm, I prefer to keep my leverage.” The woman in the room rubbed her temple as she mentally thought about how this may turn out. Bucky standing up from his seat and rounding the coffee table to stand in front of the man he helped escape prison, yeah that definitely wasn’t a positive one.

The low clink of the glove-covered vibranium hand against the cup Zemo was holding only took seconds to become a shattering splash of the cup hitting the pillar behind Zemo’s head. Bucky’s jaw was set as his hard gaze locked onto the shorter man in front of him. “You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” The low rumble threat that came from Bucky made the woman slide to the edge of the couch and prepare herself to jump in to stop him. “James.” She said at the same time Sam stood and said. “Take it easy. Don’t engage him.” Sam held his hand out right above Bucky’s chest. “He’s just going to extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

(Y/n) stood from the couch and moved to Bucky’s side. Sam glanced at her and she gave a nod. “Let me make a call.” Sam told them as her hand gently grabbed onto Bucky’s elbow, the man’s attention still locked onto the baron. Sam walked away, patting Barnes’ on the shoulder as he did. With Sam gone, Helmut spoke again. “You want some cherry blossom tea?” Bucky finally broke his eye contact to look down at the tea. “No, you go ahead.” Bucky turned in the direction that Sam walked and gently patted the small hand on his elbow before walking off.

“Keeping information from them won’t keep you from being taken back into custody Zemo. Not to mention playing with him needs to stop. Or maybe next time I’ll be the one you need to handle. Do you understand?” The voice she spoke in was calm even as Zemo let out the breath he was holding. “You feel like that with him staring you down, try not upsetting us both.” She gave a friendly smile as her hand reached up to gently pat the side of his face.

#snowdrop #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #fatws fanfic #Snowdrop

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lopithecusfanfiction · 3 years

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Old Nightmares

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Kaidan Alenko/Male Shepard Rating: General Audience Word Count: 1294 Alternate: AO3 Summary: Shepard has a nightmare about Akuze and finds comfort in Kaidan Warnings: N/A Author's Note: This is for Day 1 of Mass Effect Trilogy Appreciation Week! Do you think, even with the Reaper Invasion, Shepard would still have nightmares about his past? Please enjoy! Prompt: Day 1 - Nightmare

The wind is blowing, there’s dirt getting into his hair and eyes and all the nooks and crannies his armor has. Blood curdling screams are all around him, loud in his ears, only to be drowned out by the roar of the attacking creature as it drags another crewmember down into the ground.

Shepard squints out from where he is kneeling behind a rock, wishing he had worn his helmet to keep the dirt out of his eyes. It’s not the best of hiding places, the giant worm very easily being able to find him if it so wished. Shepard reaches up, swipes at the sweat gathered on his forehead, and takes a shaky breath. The moon is bright, its light shining down on all the Marines, but it doesn’t make it easier to see the monster that keeps appearing out of nowhere.

Shepard jumps out of his hiding spot, raising his gun, and shooting a couple rounds into the huge creature. “Connolly, move!”

Connolly, one of the younger officers, scrambles up from where he had tripped, the monster turning its attention on to Shepard. It spits acid at him and Shepard rolls out of the way, just barely getting out of the splash zone. The creature roars in anger, quickly burrowing back into the ground.

Connolly halts beside Shepard, breathing heavily. “What is that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Shepard states, gun at the ready. He looks around. Five Marines are left, including him, out of the fifty that were sent to investigate the missing colonists. “Keep sharp.”

The ground rumbles and Connolly loses his balance, grabbing a hold of Shepard’s shoulder to stay upright. Then the ground explodes and dirt goes flying towards them, Forbes screaming in agony. When the dirt settles, Shepard watches as Forbes' body, covered in blood, is dragged beneath the surface, the man clawing at the ground but finding no purchase in the loose material. Shepard hears Forbes scream for help ringing in his ears.

“Everybody move!” he yells and the rest of the terrified team start running, in no particular direction. Shepard turns to Connolly, shoves at his back to get him moving, and yells at him to get going. But the man is frozen in his spot, eyes fixated on where Forbes disappeared. They had been good friends. More than friends. This is why you don’t fraternize.

“Connolly!” Connolly’s eyes dart to Shepard, the ground rumbles again and suddenly Shepard isn’t close to the officer anymore. Instead he’s meters away, the entire crew gone except for the two of them and the giant worm is right there, above Connolly and…

“Shepard,” Connolly’s voice is a whisper in Shepard's ear and it shakes with fear. He’s only nineteen years old, practically a child, and Shepard reaches out, the monster roars, bears down on Connolly and…

“Connolly!”

Shepard wakes suddenly, taking a quick breath in, as if he’s coming up for air. He blinks the fogginess out of his eyes, runs a hand through his damp hair, and tries to calm his rapidly beating heart. His body is covered in a cold sweat, the sheets sticking to his skin uncomfortably. He squeezes his eyes shut, forces himself to breathe calmly once, twice, three times, and then reopens them to stare at the window on the ceiling.

He lies there, watching the stars go by slowly, reminding himself that Joker is flying them to the Citadel for a much needed supply run. They should be a few days out still and Shepard had planned on going around to the crew members to inquire about materials they might need that the Alliance budget could buy them. Tali had mentioned something about needing more dextro cheese a few days ago and Garrus had grunted in agreement which had prompted this little trip to the Citadel in the first place.

Shepard takes a deep breath, licking his lips, and knowing he is safe, he can feel himself calming down now. He turns onto his side, in the direction of his bedmate, and watches as Kaidan sleeps on his stomach, head facing away from Shepard. He’s surprised his nightmare hasn't woken him up. It’s a testament of just how tired Kaidan must be. Shepard doesn’t blame him. After all, they all have their own nightmares that keep them up at night.

Shepard reaches out and places a gentle hand between Kaidan’s shoulder blades. The biotic’s back is bare, the two of them being naked, and the covers have slid down to the small of his back, exposing the skin there. Shepard drags his hand down Kaidan’s spine in one long swipe and Kaidan startles, jumping slightly. Shepard tilts his head, places a soft kiss to Kaidan’s shoulder, and whispers, “Sorry,” before dragging his hand back up his back.

He feels Kaidan relax, enjoying the glide of Shepard’s hand on his skin now that he knows who is doing it. Shepard adds a little pressure, massaging the tight muscles as best he can at this angle. He kisses Kaidan’s shoulder once more, peppering it with light pecks, before reaching up and dragging his index finger over Kaidan’s amp port. Kaidan groans, low in his throat, and Shepard does it again to elicit the same sound from the man. “Does that hurt?”

Kaidan, more awake and alert now, turns his head to look at Shepard. “Sensitive.” He yawns. “What’s wrong?”

Shepard should have known that Kaidan would still realize something was wrong despite Shepard’s efforts in distracting him with his question. “It’s stupid.” He goes back to rubbing Kaidan’s back, abandoning the amp port. He doesn’t want to make Kaidan uncomfortable.

Kaidan takes a deep breath in and he looks tired but he’s obviously too worried to go back to sleep. “Tell me.”

Shepard eyes the biotic before turning back onto his back, removing his hand all together from Kaidan. “I had a nightmare. It was weird though.” Kaidan keeps quiet, giving Shepard the time he needs to talk about the dream. Shepard huffs at remembering what exactly his brain had made him see. “It was about Akuze.” He shakes his head, huffs again, and reaches up to cover his eyes with the crook of his arm. “There’s a Reaper invasion going on and my mind decided to give me a nightmare about Akuze.”

“Well,” Kaidan starts, in that breathy way that he does and Shepard loves. “A Reaper invasion doesn’t just erase the other past traumas.”

Shepard sighs and lowers his arm to look at Kaidan, making eye contact with him. Kaidan’s own eyes are half lidded with exhaustion and black circles underneath them. He could probably stand to get a few more hours of sleep but Shepard knows that if he gets up, Kaidan will too to keep him company. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He reaches out again and cups Kaidan’s cheek. Kaidan smiles at him and turns on to his side, pulling the covers up to his chin. “Cold?” Shepard questions, scooting closer to Kaidan and wrapping him up in his arms. He doesn’t really want to talk about Reapers or nightmares anymore so he changes tactics, practically rolling on top of Kaidan and attacking his exposed neck with ticklish kisses.

“Shepard,” Kaidan says, voice full of laughter and, well, Shepard is glad that he has someone who can help him through his nightmares, someone to wake up next to, and someone to love and protect and maybe even grow old with if they both make it out of this war in one piece.

And as the nightmare gets pushed to the back of Shepard’s brain, he enjoys Kaidan’s laughter in his ears and his warmth in his arms as they both lie in bed, content to pretend everything will be okay.

—————————————————————————————————

A/N: Thanks for reading!

#trilogyappreciationweek #MShenko #Mass Effect #Commander Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #Mass Effect Trilogy Appreciation Week #My Fanfiction #Old Nightmares

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roodllle · 4 years

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Year in Review - Animal Crossing New Horizons

I started writing this review/criticism in May of 2020 but decided to update it as the year went along and post it on the anniversary of NH’s release. I would like to preface that this is mostly going to be full of questions of criticisms, I love this game. I have not been able to put it down since I got it on March 20th. My first AC game was NL and then I played HHD. I was ecstatic when they announced NH at E3 2019 and kept trying to find other games to fit in my AC shaped hole in my heart but I wasn’t able to fill it till this game came out. I feel like the pace of the game is great with how you build up to unlocking terraforming and 5 stars, and I feel like the updates are well timed especially with how crazy 2020 was for everybody. That being said there were some things that irked me.

Some of the points I will bring up came from other people/commenters I have seen on here, Discord, Reddit, and Twitter that I also agree with. Some other points are from Youtubers such as ShayMay and ChuyPlays. And others are from me.

With that out of the way, let’s get on with the review. Warning, I guess, don’t expect this to be an essay, this is just a patchwork quilt made up of thoughts.

Terraforming

I wish cliffs/tiers had a smaller level? Like how we’re able to make stepping stones for our rivers if we don’t want to put a bridge down/use our vaulting pole. I just wish there was a cliff alternative.

Another cliff alternative would be if we could put bridges between cliffs. I think we’ve all been there where we see this picture

thought ‘we can do that!!” then realized it was photoshopped

When we go into terraforming, I wish a grid showed up on our island. It would make it much easier to avoid hitting the wrong square when I’m trying to change a river.

Having us be able to “close” a waterfall from a lower level but not create a new on at the same spot.

Also the fact we can add a 4th tier but can’t put anything on it is just strange to me. I know we have to have a limit to how high we can go, but at least let me put nature stuff, such as trees/flowers/bushes, on top of it instead of just a flat piece of land.

Houses

Why no ceiling items? Find it odd they added a bunch of stuff in HHD and didn’t add that to the new mainline game

There’s no reason I can think of to why we can’t access our storage when we’re crafting inside our house.

Buildings

Dodo Airlines

The Dodo Islands right now are very boring and barely use them. I have enough money and materials to not go farming and save up all my NMTs for when I go villager hunting, which has also become a rarity. I think it would be a good idea to make some islands seasoned themed. Have them be all rare, but have an island where it’s fall and has maple leaves falling, a cherry blossom one, one with snowflakes. I wouldn’t recommend they make Holiday themed ones, but having seasonal ones would be nice.

When I mess up a dodo code or accidentally hit ‘make a bridge’ instead of incline, etc. why do I have to restart the ENTIRE conversation instead of the characters just being “oh? did you mean “x” or “would you like to retype it?” like is it that hard??

Resident Services

As much as I love Isabelle this game has made me very indifferent towards her. I think they gave her a role that didn’t need to exist. They could have either let us roam around without any warnings to who was roaming around our island, in the campsite, or any weather updates. Just have us rely on our villagers, the TV, and our eyeballs. OR they could have given us a social media like app and/or a weather app. Instead, they gave us Isabelle that only announces something once a month.

Nook’s Cranny

This might just be me but can they add a little DIY area in the store? Maybe just make to where you can only customize things?? This is more out of convenience than an actual problem

Speaking of customization, since you can make medicine but also buy can we do the same for the custom kits and bait. Like make it where we can buy bait and also make our own custom kits? I just think it’s weird that they give us either/or for medicine but not for the other 2 that I honestly use way more than medicine.

Why do the Able Sisters get to have all of the colors of an item in their shop but Nook’s Cranny can’t? And why can’t we just be able to customize all items that have multiple looks/colors? Example, why can’t I just be able to change the wood type for the antique set instead of having to buy each one? I get that the furniture catalog is already small, but that’s not my fault. They’ve decided to not add past furniture sets into NH.

Able Sisters

Let us multi select clothes instead of it just being how much we can wear. idc if it’ll just put those clothes in our personal storage and then we’ll have to run home and put it in that storage, I just hate having to walk back in and out every time I want a dress in multi colors. ALSO tell us if we already bought it, like a little storage icon or something

Why can’t we hang any article of clothing on the back wall, why do we have to either make it or have the OG qr designer come to our island?

Why can’t we have the transparent option when designing clothes? I think it would make many designer’s lives easier instead of having to make 8 versions of the same outfit.

NPCs

I have played this game almost every day since it came out, minus 2 days. I have also been able to make friends on discord that help with trading/cataloging/etc. I have all of Saharah’s, Kicks’, Label’s, and Redd’s items. I have all of the fish/bug models I want and have no desire to “catch them all”. I haven’t talked to Wisp in months because I have most of the items and his idea of “expensive” is 10k bells. The only NPC I actively look forward to is Celeste because even though I now have all of her DIYs, she still gives out star fragments, regular large or horoscope, when I talk to her.

What I’m wondering is if they’re planning on doing anything else with these characters. Before I speak further I’m going to weed out characters that I am actually fine with. CJ and Flick will always be there if I want a bug/fish model, I understand that Saharah/Kicks/Redd have a ton of stuff to get and w/o the help of my discord friends, I probably wouldn’t have gotten everything till late 2021.

So that leaves Label and Wisp. I understand Wisp is there for beginners, but now that I’m at a point where I am a bell millionaire and have most of the Nook’s items cataloged, there is no reason for me to talk to him. I wish Nintendo had put in a system where depending on the person who Wisp is talking to, it determines how much money you have in your bank account/looks at your catalog, Wisp’s item’s worth goes up.

As for Label...I never saw her as viable. I also thought the tickets were dumb and you don’t even have to talk to her to have her items show up in the shop the next day. I think it would be great if when you bought all of her items, she decided to join the Able’s sisters in their shop like in NL and then have Gracie show up in her place for the weekly NPC.

Where is Blanca? Or Brewster? Or Shrunk, Katrina, Gracie, or Kapp’n and his family? I understand we will probably never see characters like Harriet or Pete because they have been replaced by a new system, but what is the excuse for these other characters? I’m hoping they show up in year 2 of NH but...we’ll see.

Villagers

I think having your first villagers living in basic homes is a good idea but one that quickly gets annoying. I found Sherb while villager hunting for the 1st time and have had him ever since, but his house is stuck at basic lazy setup. Instead of me going back and forth on whether or not i should trust somebody enough to hold Sherb, get somebody else out, then get him to move back to my island, You can have it to where you let them leave, then just wait till he comes to the campsite to visit and reinvite him. You get his actual house and he still remembers you. This could also go for you accidentally letting somebody go or letting somebody go then regretting it. Also it’d be fun to see some old villagers again.

I was curious and looked back on past games to see how many new villagers were released each game and NH has been the least amount. NL released 112 new villagers in total while NH has released 8. I’m hoping they might release more down the line but, hella disappointing imo. Along with the Sanrio update and adding those characters to the game, I am more hopeful that they’ll be adding new characters!

Having an “event” of sorts where you visit a villager’s house and they’re looking inside their closet. They look at you in surprise when you walk in and sheepishly explain that they were going through their clothes/items. They then decide to ask you for help since they can’t decide what to get rid of/what to keep and think you have a good eye for that sort of thing. Basically, a way to get rid of any clothes/items your villager somehow received bc I guess Isabelle scolding them isn’t enough.

A big problem I feel like everybody has is the villager dialogue. Yes they added sub personality types for each personality but they are not perfectly cut in half, ex. are the Sisterly types where there are 4 B types and 20 A types, like?? How I have “fixed” this problem is by having one of each personality type on my island so I always have different conversations with my villagers, but I understand not a lot of people do that. Some people just want normal/peppy types on their island bc they’re cute as hell, I get it. I know it would be...difficult to come up with unique dialogue for all 399 villagers, including Sanrio, but....you could at least for the “gimmicky” villagers. Some examples of these villagers are Ribbot and Sprocket, Lucky and Ankha, the super hero squad, and Kabuki.

Quality Life stuff

Why cant we sit AND wish on stars? And I don’t mean the sit emote; why can’t I sit on a bench and wish on stars?

It sucks when I’m about to hit my rocks or just do a lot of dig work and then my shovel breaks in the middle of it. To show the tool is about to break, cracks should start to form on the handle and get deeper/longer as you keep using it, starting when you have 5 uses left. You can also add an auditory element by making the tool sound like its struggling when you are using it. Net/Shovel/Axe/Fishing Pole can have cracks show up on the handle, Slingshot can have crack show up at the bottom of the 2 spokes while having 1 at the top of the handle. And the watering can have cracks at the base of the can.

If our inventory is full when I dig up a flower, why can’t I replace it with another flower to bury? And if I can dig up an item at an diagonal item, I should be able to bury it again at the same angle.

Other

Having more...liveliness?? on the island, idk how else to say it. Example is whenever you travel by plane there's a chemtrail in the sky afterwards, maybe just seeing other planes go by throughout the day. Maybe you can get a hint Redd or Gulliver will be visiting you tomorrow if you see their boats beyond the horizon, Redd’s just crusin’ and the Gulls’ boats looking messed up. On a week where you don't have a new camper, maybe have an old villager visit. That leads me too

I wish villager’s doors could count as “exterior decorating” and we can just put any ornamental on there instead having to hope that your villager will put the wreath on their own door.

Conclusion

If you read this whole thing holy shit, thanks!! Go treat yourself on my part lol If you disagreed with me or whatever feel free to chat with me about it!

#roodle speaks #animal crossing new horizons #acnh #animal crossing #ac #acnl #animal crossing new leaf #qtiepie

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six-of-woes · 4 years

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The Clown and the Potato Sack (Aerin Valleros x MC)

Chapter 1/? : ...What Now?

Paring: Aerin Valleros x MC

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533863

Word count: 2381

Summary: Now with the Dreadlord defeated and her friends out of Whitetower, Cassia Nightbloom, is bored. Extremely bored. She wants to do literally anything, but she doesn't know what. Her solution? Try to get some answers from a certain corrupt prince. Unfortunately, that leads to a wacky yet angsty adventure involving a potato sack, a wooden spoon, and A LOT of clowning around.At least she's doing something...right?

Authors Note: Hi so this is my first time posting fic on Tumblr so if I’m doing something wrong feel free to tell me just be nice about it because my ego is fragile Anyway! I hope you guys like it, I thought we clowns could use some content until book 2 comes out. Idk if i’ll ever continue this, i meant for it to be a one-shot but I couldn’t really get my whole plan into one chapter. So. Hopefully there’s more. No promises tho lol

@what-do-you-mean-theyre-evil @theclowneryqueen @findmeafterlife @0oi-io0 @thatgirlbuhle @mirabelle-choices @souhmhey @king-erzsebet @vlastomilsworm @diamonds-and-decorum @xsweetnspookyx

~~~

Cassia watched from the castle balcony as a raggedy caravan rolled out of Whitetower. They’re really gone now, she thought, turning her back on the city. There was a new kind of…emptiness inside her now that Mal, Nia, Tyril, and Imtura were all gone. Maybe they’d only known each other a few months, but to someone who barely had any family to call their own—it struck a certain chord with Cassia to see them go.

She sighed and noted the setting sun—her reminder that she should probably get to dinner. Not that Cassia wanted to spend yet another dinner answering the pointless questions of all those stuffy nobles, but she felt obliged to as Morella’s hero—at least until she figured out where she was going to go from here.

As Cassia walked through the towering corridors, she thought some more about where she wanted to go. Kade wanted to go back to Riverbend(but only after he’d exhausted the library), not in any particular mood to experience any more danger than he already had. Of course, Cassia couldn’t blame him. If she’d spent months in a realm of pure darkness being tortured, she would want at least a break as well.

But that was the thing: she hadn’t been in the Shadow Realm and she wasn’t like Kade. Cassia always thirsted for adventure and as much as she loved Riverbend, she spent twenty out of the almost twenty-one years of her life there. There was so much more out there and if her nightmare had any shred of truth, Cassia knew she had to be there.

But where? She’d already decided against going with any of the others when they left—Cassia’s injuries would make intense sailing with Imtura or any of what Mal had planned painful and difficult, and she wanted to give Nia the room to figure things out on her own. The idea that seemed most plausible for her was going undercount with Tyril. It would’ve been a prime opportunity to learn more about where she came from, after all. Yet…she still felt awkward going there—Cassia knew almost nothing of the elven societal cues and would feel a little useless when trying to help out Tyril with her duties.

She shook her head as she reached the doors of the dining hall. “Never mind all that.” She muttered. “I made my decision.”

“Finally!” Called a voice. “You had me thinking you were going to bail!”

Cassia looked up to see Kade, sitting on one of the corridor benches. He held a new book in his hand, different from the one Cassia had seen him reading at breakfast.

“Sorry,” she muttered, leaning against the closed doors. “Just wanted to make sure the others made it out of town safely.” She swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded toward the dining hall. “Let’s just get to dinner.”

Kade raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless followed Cassia into the hall.

When they entered, Cassia was surprised to see only King Arlan, Threep, and Loola sitting at the table. None of them looked particularly cheerful—not even Threep, who just stared at his dinner plate with a somber expression.

“Your majesty,” Cassia breathed, dipping into a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to be in your—“

“Oh hush, Cassia,” Arlan said, shaking his head. “There’s no one else here and you’ve more than cemented yourself as a friend of the crown.”

Cassia coughed and straightened up. “Right…Is there any particular reason for the ah—grim mood and significant lack of nobles?”

Arlan cleared his throat and eyed the nespers. “Well…there’s news.”

Cassia felt her heart catch in her throat. News? It can’t have anything to do with what that hooded being said in my dream, could it? No, of course not. It was just a nightmare…right?

“Is something wrong?” Kade piped, eyebrows already creasing with worry.

The king shared a look with Threep and Loola, who looked back at Kade and Cassia.

“Aerin’s awake now,” Threep said, stretching his wings. “I saw him myself in the dungeons—he’s still very much corrupted, but—“

“He’s quiet,” Loola spoke. “All he’s done is hug his knees and stare at the wall.”

Kade scoffed. “Sounds to me like he’s scheming. Want me to punch him again?”

Cassia elbowed her brother (lightly) in the side. “I’m sure it’s fine. Even if he was scheming, there’s really nothing he can do. His cell is surrounded by guards 24/7, there’s a magical barrier around it, and besides, if for some reason he gets out—“ she gestured to the three weapons of legend she had strapped to her body. “I’ll have it handed.”

“Sure,” Kade said, rolling his eyes as he took a seat at the table. He went to drink from his goblet, but a playful smirk graced his lips. “You’re just saying that because you kissed him.”

Cassia grumbled as she took a seat next to Kade at the table. “We don’t have to keep bringing that up,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “That was like, a month ago—before he was you know—evil.”

“Whatever you say,” Kade taunted, still smirking as he took a sip from his goblet.

~~~

The rest of dinner was relatively low-key. Cassia filled Arlan in on what the others were going to do now that they were gone and Kade entertained them all with wild stories from the deep corners of his mind.

Once dinner was over, however, and Kade, Loola, and Threep all returned to their previous business, leaving Cassia to do as she pleased. Problem was, Cassia didn’t really have anything to do.

She found herself standing in the middle of the corridor for what was longer than considered usual—even for Cassia.

“Dammit!” She cried, hours later. “I’m bored as all hells!” In a fit of rage, Cassia kicked the solid gold leg of a nearby bench. Solid. Gold. Promptly after kicking it, Cassia let out a pained yelp and brought her foot up to her arms.

After a few more seconds of hopping on one foot and whisper-shouting an array of curses, Cassia collapsed onto the bench and buried her face in her hands.

“Gods…” she groaned. “I really need to get out of here and do something more dangerous than stubbing my toe.”

But, what was there to do? The most dangerous place Cassia could think of was the Nooks and Crannies—but the real danger was really the guards and Cassia wasn’t interested in picking fights with them right now. She and Mal had already informed Arlan of the corruption, there was no need to escalate a situation that was already under control.

She thought back to visiting them with Mal…and how they got out of their scuffle with the guards.

Unconsciously, Cassia ran her fingers over the ring Aerin had given her. She still hadn’t taken it off, even after the betrayal. It was a reminder of their night at the lake.

She let out another groan. There were so many things about that night that didn’t make sense. Why would he save the unicorn? Sure, it could’ve been to defy Baldur, but…the character he’d been playing didn’t seem like the kind to do that kind of thing. And besides—it was a living thing. Cassia kinda figured the shadow realm had a thing against them—as long as they weren’t a part of their little posse. So why? Why would he do it?

And as a matter of fact, why did he actually not not want to be with her when she “pretend” (as she liked to tell herself) flirting with him during the final battle? That was weird. For someone with such a cold and hardened heart he certainly seemed pretty open to still having her be with him. Were her seduction skills really that good?

Well, to be fair, she did seduce a giant bug. So maybe they were.

So many questions and no way to get answers. Unless…?

He’s awake. Cassia thought. You could go down there…I’m sure the guards would let us—a hero of the realm—go see him. Maybe you could get some answers. Only answers though. You don’t like him anymore, remember? He kinda tried to kill you and all your friends. Also tried to take of the world. So only answers. Nothing else.

She thought about it for a few minutes. No one other than the guards would have to know, right? Not Threep, not Loola, not Arlan or Kade…and especially not Mal. The snitch.

“Godsdammit,” Cassia groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m this bored.”

And with that, she got up and headed toward the dungeons, against her better judgement, yes, but even if she didn’t want to admit it…

…Cassia was a horny bitch.

~~~

Aerin had been put at the lowest level of the dungeons, about four stories below ground. Why the castle need that many floors was beyond Cassia, but nonetheless, she continued her journey down. Down. Down. Down.

Aaaannnnd it turns out walking down stairs for what feels like an eternity is just as boring as standing in the middle of the corridor. Only difference is the corridor is WARM!

“Do you hear that?” Echoed a guard’s voice.

Cassia stopped in her tracks.

“Yeah. Sounds like footsteps. Probably Woodworth and Highmourn coming to relieve us early. Let’s just get going early, tonight’s my anniversary and I don’t want to have to make it up to the ol’ husband again.”

“What about the prince? Weren’t we given strict orders to not leave him alone?”

“Ack, who cares? I mean, look at him—what’s he gonna do, cry about it?”

There was a bout of hearty laughter followed by the clanking of armor. Thinking fast and remembering Mal’s trick, Cassia dodged out of the guards sight and held her breath until they passed. Once she was sure they were long gone, she sprinted the rest of the way down the stairs until she reached Aerin’s cell.

At first glance, it looked like any other cell—dark, damp, and decrepit. But when Cassia got closer, she could see the gold haze of the magical barrier keeping him in. Well, if nothing else, he should at least have a hard time getting out of that. Cassia thought, slowing down to a tip toe the closer she got.

Finally, she reached Aerin’s cell. Unsure if whether or not he was aware of her presence, Cassia just stared. He looked so small. Of course, before all of this, Cassia still had maybe a few inches on him, but then, he wasn’t absolutely helpless. He wasn’t wearing the brilliant red and gold suit he wore the whole time they knew each other, instead wearing a brown tunic and pants that looked more like poorly-stitched together potato sacks than actual clothes. Even in the dark, Cassia’s elven vision could see that he was still grey. Many of the dark veins had gone, but he was still very much corrupted by the shadow.

What do I even say to him? She thought, slipping the Gauntlet of Pain on and off her wrist. Obviously, I’m just here to get questions, so like, just ask him a question. Duh. Easy. Don’t make it awkward. It’s not like you kissed him or anything—oh wait.

“Ahem—“ Cassia started.

“—I already said, I don’t want any food, Highmourn. Now please, if both of you could shut up while I brood I would much appreciate it!”

Cassia coughed. “Sounds like somebody didn’t get their beauty sleep.”

Aerin gasped and whipped around, scowl deepening when he saw Cassia standing over him.

“What are you doing here?!” He spat, rising to his full height(which unfortunately for him, didn’t really look intimidating to Castalia). “Are you here to rub it in? To gloat? Where are all your friends? Am I just not worth their time?”

Cassia sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Aerin. I’m not here to antagonize you—you’ve already done that enough—“

“—You just antagonized me! You lie!”

Cassia raised an eyebrow. “…And you’re a drama queen. I’m just here to ask you a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Aerin scoffed and turned his back to her. “What reason could I possibly have to answer to you? You won, Cassia. You got everything you wanted and I have nothing. Why do I have to give you anymore?”

A few seconds of silence passed. Cassia tried to deny how much that stung, but the tears that started to well up in her eyes proved otherwise.

“Fine,” she snapped, voice wavering. “I’ll only ask you one thing. Then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of your miserable life. Is that enough for you?”

Aerin’s shoulders hunched. “Only if it’ll get you to leave.”

“Alright.” Cassia’s hands balled into fists. “What happened?”

Her words echoed through the dungeon. Seconds passed where the only movement was that of the salty, salty tears rolled down Cassia’s cheeks.

Eventually, Aerin’s shoulders relaxed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you were my friend, Aerin. And I want to know why you could so easily go from someone sweet, kind, and compassionate to literally trying to take over the world.”

“Easy,” he spat. “I’ve been corrupted by the shadow court and had a damn good way of hiding it. Can you go now?”

Cassia sighed. “But that night at the lake…you saved that unicorn. If you had such a hatred for human life, why would you save it?”

“That’s more than one question.”

Gods, is this who he really is? Incredibly difficult?

“Fine,” she sighed. ��I’ll leave. Have a nice life.”

Cassia wiped her face and turned to leave. Of course she wasn’t gonna get the answers she so desperately wanted. They were right there. What was the point of coming down there anyway?

“Wait!”

She stopped.

“I’ll tell you what happened, Cassia. But…it’s a long story.”

Cassia turned back around and saw Aerin, grasping the bars of his cell with the same vulnerable, hurt, look she remembered from the Deadwood.

She walked back over and took a seat on the ground.

“I have time.”

#blades of light and shadow #bolas #aerin valleros #prince aerin #Aerin x mc #blades of light and shadow fan fiction #fan fiction #playchoices #pixelberry

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datheetjoella · 4 years

Text

Fantober 2020, Day 26: Art Class

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 26/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 1,947 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Nudity Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

------------------------------------ When Haruka asked him if he wanted to model for a drawing he had to make for his art elective, Makoto agreed immediately. He was happy to help Haruka out wherever he could and he felt honoured that Haruka wanted to draw him for an assignment. Although he imagined it would be difficult to sit still for an extensive amount of time, he was pretty excited about trying something new with Haruka. If he got cramps from holding the same position for too long, Haruka would surely give him a break.

But when Haruka laid out all his supplies and set out a chair for him, that excitement quickly diminished.

"Take off your clothes."

"Why?" Makoto asked with a frown.

"It's an anatomy assignment," Haruka explained, "I have to draw your body and I can't see your muscles and bone structure through your sweater and jeans."

That did make sense so Makoto stripped down to his underwear without any protests, though he did feel a bit self-conscious. Being in his leg skins at the pool was so much different from being in his underwear on an assignment Haruka's professor would grade. But he told himself they'd view it with a professional eye and not a scrutinising one, and they probably had to look at hundreds of other drawings so he hopefully wouldn't stand out too much.

"Okay, how do you want me to sit?"

"Makoto," Haruka said with a deadpan expression. "Take off all your clothes."

The blood vessels in Makoto's cheeks nearly burst at that. "What?"

"You have to be nude in this image, it's in the criteria."

"Why didn't you tell me that sooner? Being in my underwear is already embarrassing enough, but being naked is just impossible!"

"Because you'd immediately say no."

"Of course I would! Don't they provide nude models in your class?"

"They do, but you were sick that day and I stayed home to take care of you, remember?" Haruka said, "All the other classes already had their sessions too and it's not like they will hire another nude model for me alone, so I have to do this assignment at home."

Damn. It was his fault Haruka missed this class so it was his responsibility to help him catch up. But no matter how guilty Makoto felt, he wasn't sure if he could do this. "Isn't there anyone else you can ask?"

"Sure, let me call Asahi and ask him if I can stare at his naked body for hours while I sketch the outline of his di-"

"Okay, I get it!" Makoto interrupted before he could pass out from heatstroke. "This is completely professional, right?"

"Of course, it's artistic nude. The only person who'll get to see this beside us is my prof, I promise."

In the end, Makoto could never refuse Haruka when he needed him. With a sigh of defeat, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged his boxer-briefs down. "How should I sit?"

"Facing me. Put your left foot on the seat and lean your right elbow on the backrest, hand on your knee. Put your other foot on the floor and let your other arm hang limply beside you."

Those were some specific instructions. Haruka probably put a lot of thought into this, so Makoto couldn't disappoint him no matter how shy he felt. "Like this?" he asked when he assumed the right position.

"Hmm." Haruka ran his eyes over his form critically. "Actually, instead of putting your hand on your knee, raise it to support your head. Tilt your head to the side a bit so I can see your neck."

"Alright," Makoto said and he did as Haruka told him. "How's this?"

"Better. I'll start drawing now, so don't move."

"I don't know how long I'll be able to sit like this, though."

"I figured, so let me know when you need a break."

"I will."

With that, Haruka flipped open his sketchbook and began to draw.

Makoto's gaze wandered from the lamp on the ceiling to the draped curtains, trying to divert his attention from the situation he found himself in. If he'd been told a few days ago that he would be a nude model for an art assignment, he would've laughed and brushed it off as something beyond his capabilities. While he did maintain that viewpoint, the subject was a whole lot less hilarious now.

The only sound in the room was the scratching of graphite onto paper, which made Makoto even more aware of his frantic heartbeat. Every nook and cranny of his body was not just being studied closely, but also eternalised in the sketchbook like an exhibit of all his flaws and imperfections. Each weird mole and bump and pocket of misplaced fat displayed for the whole world to see - actually, for Haruka and his professor solely, but it sure felt like the whole world.

The more time passed, the more Haruka's eyes burned on his skin and the more awkward Makoto felt. He couldn't back down anymore, so he had to repress the itching discomfort or else he'd disturb Haruka. Unconsciously, he bit his bottom lip and scrunched up his nose.

Haruka's pencil halted on the page. "I'm still drawing your general shape so it's fine for now, but once I get to your face you need to relax your expression. My professor will think I held you at gunpoint otherwise."

"Sorry," Makoto said, resisting the urge to scratch at his cheek, "It's just so embarrassing."

"But why? I see you naked all the time and you don't seem to have any issues with it then."

"But then you're also naked."

"Do you want me to take my clothes off, too?"

"That's not what I mean," Makoto said, "I don't feel embarrassed in the heat of the moment, and not even if you just see me nude either but this is different. You're completely staring me down and that makes me self-conscious."

"You didn't feel self-conscious when you sent me that picture when I was at the training camp a few weeks ago. And believe me, I stared at that every night until I got back."

"That was different too, then I couldn't see you staring," Makoto said and somehow, the temperature inside his cheeks rose even higher at the mere thought of the picture. "And I'll have you know, I was self-conscious. My finger hovered over the button for twenty minutes before I sent it and I felt so embarrassed the second I did that I almost regretted it."

"I was happy to receive it," Haruka said, putting down his sketchbook on his lap. "Do you know why?"

"Because you were, you know, excited?"

"That too, but that's not what I meant," Haruka said as he stood up and walked over to Makoto, taking a hold of his hands. "Because you're beautiful and I love your body so much. Whether it's touching or just watching, I love every part of you."

The look in Haruka's eyes was dead serious and his voice conveyed unwavering sincerity. It was rare for Haruka to state his thoughts so openly and it simultaneously made Makoto's heart skip a beat and his head avert as bashfulness flooded him.

"I'll love your body no matter how it ends up looking because it's yours and I love you," Haruka continued, cupping his jaw to make him meet his gaze. "But objectively speaking, you are incredibly good-looking. Not only your body, but your face too. You are so attractive, handsome, gorgeous, hot, sexy-"

"Haru!" Makoto interrupted, laughter bubbling up from his stomach. Haruka didn't compliment him this blatantly often, so knowing this was how Haruka truly felt about him boosted his self-esteem.

"Don't you ever be ashamed of your body, or of any part that is you, because there is nothing to be ashamed of. You're absolutely beautiful both inside and out."

"Thank you, Haru," Makoto murmured, leaning up to capture Haruka's lips in a kiss of gratitude. "You are, too."

They kissed each other again, brief but immensely loving. When Haruka pulled back, he said, "If you really don't feel comfortable with me drawing you naked, then that's okay. I'll try to find someone else."

Makoto shook his head. "It's alright. It's just you and me anyway."

"And my professor."

"And your professor," he said with a chuckle, "But your professor won't get to see me naked, but a drawing of me, so it's different. As long as I never run into them."

Haruka smiled too and with a final kiss, he went back to his cushion at the table. "If you get back into position, I'll resume drawing. I'll draw the most beautiful nude artwork she's ever seen."

Makoto nodded and moved his limbs to their assigned position.

One break and nearly two hours later, Haruka put his last pencil down. "It's finished. Want to come take a look?"

"Of course!" Makoto leapt off the chair and crouched down next to Haruka. His mouth fell agape when he saw the image he had created. "This is amazing, Haru!"

The man on the paper was very attractive, with sharp yet soft features and a toned body, but it was undeniably him. Admittedly, Makoto never stood in front of the mirror for longer than necessary, but he would if this was the body he always saw. Knowing Haruka viewed him this way was already touching, but the fact that he merely drew what was tangible almost took Makoto's breath away. Haruka had been a skilled artist since they were kids, but with each stroke and every line, he got even better.

"You truly outdid yourself, Haru. It's like you improve whenever I blink."

"Thanks," Haruka said with a small smile. "I had a great model."

"You'll definitely get a high grade on this assignment. Maybe even the highest grade in your year."

Haruka shook his head. "I'm not turning this drawing in for the assignment."

Makoto couldn't believe his ears. Had he suffered through all that embarrassment for nothing? "What, why?"

"Look at it," Haruka said, turning away his head as an adorable blush lit up his ears. "I don't want anyone else to see you like this, not even my professor."

At that, Makoto almost choked with laughter. "Are you serious? What happened to it being artistic nude?"

"It is artistic nude, but this is too private."

"What now then? Are you not going to hand anything in or are you going to try to find another model?"

"I'd like to draw you again, if that's okay with you."

"Sure, but won't you have the same issue then?"

"I'll draw you from a different angle, one that doesn't show your face or at least isn't recognisable," Haruka said, "I'll have to think of a new pose. Do you have time tomorrow evening?"

"Yeah, I don't have to work, so I'll try to finish up my homework in the afternoon," Makoto said as he shimmied his clothes back on. "You know, it was a bit scary at first, but I had a lot of fun."

"Me too," Haruka said, "Does that mean I can draw you more often?"

"Is that with or without clothes?"

"Both."

Makoto giggled again. "Alright, because you asked so nicely."

"Thanks," Haruka said, wrapping his arms around Makoto's shoulders. "You really are a great model. Very… inspiring."

Although Makoto would probably never possess the unwavering confidence some others were blessed with, Haruka always knew how to make him feel better about himself. And perhaps, through portraits and images Haruka drew of him, Makoto could learn to love himself the way Haruka loved him: wholeheartedly, all imperfections included.

#i'm sorry i'm stupid #makoharu #makoharu fic #my fic #fantober2020 #colourful days with you

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broadwayandnetflix · 5 years

Text

Just Hold Me - Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Language (it’s IT)

Theme: Angst with increasing fluff towards the end.

Summary: After a distressing nightmare you keep thinking about one person in particular, Richie Tozier. What you don’t know yet is that he has been thinking about you as well.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: just a little note if you ever want to know something about me, inspiration for stories almost seem to come to me at the weirdest times. this one for example came at 2am and I poured this draft out into my phone hunched over a bowl of cereal. It had many grammatical errors, but nonetheless it was something. so there you have it, I saw IT 2 and thus came this.

You jolted awake with a gasp, panting heavily while you sat upright on your mattress. Quickly adjusting to the now pitch-black room, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed.

Eyes darting wildly about, thoughts racing, and palms sweaty. IT still haunted your dreams; there was no question about it. Usually, you could shut bad dreams out, as a justified figment of your imagination.

Except, when you see the potential love of your life, dead, and gutted out in front of you. What are you supposed to do? You know it’s just a dream, a silly dream, but no, it’s traumatic, even if he’s just down the hall.

You didn’t plan to come back to Derry; in fact, after twenty-seven years, you had come to forget the place. Forgetting its people, it’s buildings, aesthetics, and nooks and crannies that only you could pinpoint.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you felt in a strange sense, guilty. Mike poured everything into digging the lot of you out of a massive haystack, into fighting back something that was equally as big, and terrifying.

So even though the mere thought of catching up with old friends made you giddy, the harsh, crushing reality was that all of you were here for one reason, and one reason only.

To kill a demonic, possessed, and fucked up clown.

One in particular that craved for your fear, salivated about it even. So when it manifested into your dreams, you weren’t surprised, even if you were scared shitless.

It only just made you fret about the day ahead of you, knowing that there was work to do and that this was just the beginning.

Especially after last night’s scare in the restaurant, the lot of you dined at. It freaked you out even to consider remembering it, but one thing stuck out to you in particular.

Richie.

Something about seeing him again after all these years, just set you off, straight off. You almost didn’t even notice the fluttered increase within your heart or the way that you couldn’t seem to keep still when he made eye contact with you.

It brought back the waterfall of emotions that you had buried in grade school. The harbored crush that you kept for the trash mouth of a dork that he was. Despite Beverly’s attempts to assure you that he so desperately felt the same back then, you could never believe it. Not even now.

Except at this current moment, all you wanted was him, which was oh so pathetic. Just like the way you laughed like a literal hyena at his offhand quips and comments. Yes, while everyone rolled their eyes in annoyance, you giggled like a goddamn fool.

He made you feel dizzy like you had just finished a roller coaster only for it to jerk forward again.

If only you could just reassure yourself that he was alive, and well. It would help you sleep at night because these recurring nightmares of him dying weren’t helping.

You were so far down deep into your thoughts and criticism that you almost didn’t hear the slight knock at your door. The rustling of your sheets as you peered at your clock brushing you back into reality.

Who was knocking on your door at 3:45am?

Pushing yourself up, you trudge your way over, opening the door with a sour expression.

“How can I-“ you murmured only to stop once you were face to face with Richie himself.

Your jaw-dropping slightly, eyes wide, and now increasingly more alert than before, you swallowed.

He looked exhausted, his hair messy and bedridden, and his eyes focused on anything else but you.

“I, um,” he stammered, “I had an um, why is this so hard?” he whispered to himself. You looked back him blinking slowly wondering if you were still dreaming.

One pinch later, you weren’t.

“Listen, I had a bad dream about you, and I just really needed to check in on you,” he suddenly rushed out, his speech groggy, and jumbled.

Gaping, you stared back at him in surprise, definitely not expecting this outcome. Even more so, he was going through the same exact situation as you.

Well, not entirely, you presumed.

“Come on,” you gestured towards your bed while he trailed behind you.

Plopping yourself down onto it, you stared up at the ceiling, heaving a big sigh. Smiling shyly as Richie did the same, laying next to you.

“Me too,” you admitted after what felt like ages of silence, with only the slight hum of the ceiling fan to fill it.

“I’m sorry what?” he asked.

“I had a bad dream about you too,” you felt his gaze projected onto you now. The room now becoming too warm to your liking with the nerves that now tickled your skin.

“It’s weird, thirteen years old me would be having a stroke right now. You know, being on the same bed as Y/N Y/L/N,” he admitted randomly, causing you to turn over to face him.

He paused before continuing after a slight nudge of acknowledgment came from you.

“You wanna know something Y/N?” you nodded, “I had the biggest crush on you when we were kids. Isn’t that crazy?” he admitted softly.

You were at a profound loss for words like the air had been physically sucked out of you. This had to be some sort of joke, how could Richie like you. Not only that, you probably looked like an idiot, just laying there and not replying to him because you were so caught off-guard.

“God, I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, I-“ he cringed, rubbing his hands over his face.

“No!” you yelped.

“No?”

“I just need a second,” you cried, he blinked sitting upright to face you. “I know it’s been a second, but I need more.” The smirk now resting upon his lips was not helping you as he watched you process it.

“I really like you, Richie, and I think I always have.” you breathed out. “I can’t believe I forgot you, I can’t believe I forgot this.” you fretted looking into his eyes, feeling more jittery than anything.

“Oh, thank god,” he huffed before flipping onto his stomach to face you more appropriately.

He paused as if something else had caught his attention, leaving him deep in thought. You couldn’t help but study the man in front of you, seeing the shell of his younger self still resting within him.

Of course, you had a chance to the night before and during the day, but it didn’t quite do him justice. He still had his fluffy mop of hair, his piercing blue eyes, and those awful, yet awkwardly cute glasses. Even in the dark, you still could see him, all of him.

He looked tired, but the way his eyes crinkled, or how his smile grew whenever he looked at you made you practically float.

And then you remembered why he was here, and your little cheeky grin disappeared instantly.

“What?” he wondered aloud.

“I just don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do tomorrow, I just want to close my eyes and sleep for however long this will take,” He looked at you ever so sympathetically, your vision now seeming to grow hazier by the minute.

“I don’t want IT to control my dreams, I don’t want to see you die, Richie. I just want to be able to sleep and not wake up in a cold sweat every night. I just wa-,” you were interrupted by his hands now intertwining with yours.

You exhaled shakingly, daring to meet his warming gaze, trying to distract yourself from the fact that your sweaty ass palms were encased in his.

“I wish I could say that things are going to be better. I mean, hopefully, they are, because if not, we’re fucked,” Richie began only to stop by the large snicker that erupted from you.

“What? I’m trying to be reassuring?” he smirked as he noted the little grin upon your expression.

“You don’t think a killer clown doesn’t constitute this situation as fucked up, to begin with?” you giggled.

“That’s beside the point Y/N, okay before I was rudely interrupted by you,” he squeezed your hands with more reassurance, “I was going to say you are one of the bravest and smartest people that I know. I mean even back then you were such a little shit, we, I loved you for it. If anyone can put Pennywise into his place, it’s you, we all know it.” he spoke his speech quick and jumbled, but it worked.

You practically melted under his gaze, fighting the urge to cower and make some lame counter-argument.

You just wanted to savor this moment, this exact moment where the only issue at hand is just a few bad nightmares.

Sighing, you reach out to reach his glasses, his breath going still while he watched. Peeling them off, you rolled over to put them onto your bedside table. Looking back at him, you gesture towards the side opposite of you on the bed.

“You wanna stay?” you whispered hesitantly.

Nodding, he makes his way over to the side opposite of you as you slide into the covers. His eyes never leaving yours while he mirrors your actions.

“Good because I don’t know if I would’ve been able to sleep peacefully without you here,” you admitted softly.

“Oh come here,” he soothes while pulling you closer to him, now enveloping you with him. “I’ll protect you, honey.” his words full of promise and safety.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For just being you.” you murmur already feeling sleep beginning to overtake you.

Just like that, for the first time in months, you didn’t have any IT controlled nightmares.

#@broadwayandnetflix #2019 #richie tozier #richie toizer x reader #it 2019 #it chapter 2 #bill hader #angst #fluff #it movie #IT #it imagine #IT movie imagine #richie tozier x you

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trashy-croud · 4 years

Text

India: Temple Ruins🌿🧗‍♀️

I'm back but this level broke me. I kid you not, during this entire hiatus from doing these reviews and such, I have been coming back to this level only to cry more in the long run. I am literally only on the second level of this game. This is where I learnt, there is no God. This level held back no punches and was delivering each blow with a full on k.o. for me. Yet I still enjoyed it. Ignore the time as per usual, I spent so much of it actually looking for the secrets and searching every nook and cranny, as well as being absolutely terrified and refusing to move after the first statue came to life.

Now to talk about this level. Well for starters, this one started us off with climbing trees and with mudslides and piranhas and snakes and oh god, there was plenty of stuff happening at the start. This did lead to me being stuck a couple of times of figuring out the best path to take but eventually we powered through. We then encountered our first monkey at one point or another and I thought he’d lead me to somewhere new, y’know, like in the previous level. Hah. The only thing he led me to was my demise as as sad as it is to say, I kept him following me for a bit, not realising that he was taking away my health and I was actually killed by a bloody monkey - of all the deadly things in this level, the first thing to kill me was a god forsaken monkey. I am ashamed of myself. It seemed somehow we annoyed them at one point from the last level, perhaps because I took the key before that monkey could or because I killed it, I honestly cannot remember which one happened when I finally completed it and carried on, but these little buggars are ferocious.

After the mudslide challenge which was interesting to encounter and pretty fun to manoeuvre, along with a waterfall, we entered a dark room. I thought, “Oh lets light a flare!” Because, y’know, I actually have some for a change compared to the previous game, and when I lit it up, the look of horror on my face as I saw a statue. I could only briefly remember some parts of this game and watching my dad play it, I didn’t stick around much for this one compared to the previous instalment, but I bloody remember moving statues and I froze up and entered the menu almost instantly. That may have added to my time with how long I was on that menu thinking about what I was going to do next. After a while of debating the best course of action, I closed the menu off, pulled out my shotgun only to realise that this one didn’t come to life. Luckily I didn’t waste any ammo on an inanimate object but I was definitely wary.

After this room and moving some blocks around, we crawled into the next one and I spotted another statue, I was wary and was right to do so as it came to life and I about wanted to cry. I didn’t even pull out the shotgun this time, I went full pistols on it and didn’t know that the statue could block, didn’t seem to get that memo! So yeah, that one took a while as well, much to my dismay.

After getting rid of it, we found the first secret which was well sneaky of them as we fell into a trap door to pull a switch, but next to it was a movable block which you couldn’t tell it was movable unless you had a keen eye. Entering the room of that secret honestly was a challenge in itself with poison dart traps, a boulder trap to boot as well but we got through it all. It just took a couple of attempts, y’know how it is.

Now, a lot of what happened after is a bit lengthy to talk about and off the top of my head, a bit hard to remember how I reacted to a lot of it, some key areas was the quicksand, which I about had a panic over because that is scary. How dare they bring that in. I panicked about being unable to get any further and it was terrifying! There was also an outside part where some of the ruins came tumbling down and I was in water and had to climb back up. Let’s just say I went well into the double figures with my deaths on that one. There was so much depending on how skilful I was with some of my jumps, and I’m rubbish at jumping. I really hoped this game didn’t depend on it! But alas, seems I’ll just have to “git gud” at this now, and weep whilst I do it. But there were so many different sections to get through, to get keys to progress further through the level. There was also one part which included invisible platforms.

Do not get me started on the invisible platforms. This was the part where my sister thought it was hilarious to watch and then got stressed with me at the same time. We both admit, the way they programmed these platforms was wonderful in our eyes, it reminded me of the uzi secret in the first game, except now we actually have a way of seeing them all through the use of lights, ain’t no leap of faith this time. Basically what we got annoyed at was that I wasn’t able to jump very well and the game sometimes didn’t register the jump, so a conversation like this played out.

“Press the jump button.” “I am, what do you think I’m doing?” “Press it harder then!” “You think it’ll work if I press harder?” “It’s the only way, press the button harder and she’ll go further!”

In my opinion, I found it to be a funny moment between us as she is starting to join in more with some of the game, being more interested in later instalments such as AoD which may be interesting to write about. But this conversation reminded me of watching my dad on the PC when him and my mum would play this, my mum watching him, and literally saying the exact same thing as my sister did. It really brought back fun memories.

Back to talking about this level. After we collected the keys, we ended up with more traps to get around, more boulder traps and more fire-breathing statues. This is the theme for this level it seems. Statues that do things that I hate, such as breathing fire, and moving. As we got past all these traps, we came to a new room. I walked in like it was nothing, only to realise that it was a room with two statues in, two statues that woke up and were ready to knock me out into next week! I screamed like I’ve never screamed before, this included my sister as she just kept shouting to shoot and I ignored all that and ran away up to a ledge that they couldn’t reach. I thought we were safe and panicked once I suddenly saw another statue on this ledge, except it didn’t come to life this time which was mildly reassuring.

I decided to do this the cowardly way and handle the statues from that ledge, dangling whenever they guarded to make them drop their guard and shot them from a distance. Typical me stuff, y’know. After killing them, I was lost. I was a lot little puppy with what to do because I didn’t see them drop a sword each to put on the statue. We were scanning around and I did take a while before we managed to figure it out.

Then there was the next room. The one me and my sister called, “the room with the floating jesus-wannabe”. I told her that this was someones “team mate” (purely because she didn’t see the first cutscene with Tony) and we’re kinda figuring out what happened, “she said she liked what she called them better. I didn’t notice the statue lying in wait up until i picked the key up from underneath Randy or Rory, whichever one he may be, and then heard music playing and footsteps. I started weeping and my sister saluted me and said “good luck soldier”. I about wanted to deck her for that because she left the room to get snacks after that moment, only to come back in once I defeated it. It was super easy when you face them head on with a shotgun. Totally didn’t take to long.

After defeating it, we found more traps that were my worst nightmare, the spiked ceiling was an enemy that I was becoming too familiar with with the amount of times I died to it. Then I managed to do it. My speedy butt finally did it and I was absolutely loving it. There was the other trap as well which was smart but my worst nightmare, because it was underwater with a current trying to suck you in. Oh, I loathed it and wanted to break something. But we powered through, put all the keys in and finished the level. My sister watched and said that Tony was doing some weird “voodoo shizzam”. I thought that was an alright way to put it and after that cutscene, we were ready for the next level but left it there for the day. To be fair, that cutscene was enjoyable to watch and interesting as we saw what Tony was doing, something that we didn’t see before as he seemed to show his true colours. So we found out what happened to Randy and Rory, was probably Tony’s fault, or the artefact we have been chasing after.

As a summary for this whole level, it was super dark yet it was atmospheric. I found out all monkeys are now rude and I have to kill them, and that Tony is also rude and a bit of a prick so I need to kill him too. All fun and games! Oh, I found out that statues are something that will haunt me to the grave, the first instalment had the centaurs which traumatised me, the second had the jade statue warrior by the end of the game, so now they’ve thrown in some right at the beginning. Great. Please let that be the end of the statues though, or am I hoping for too much there? This level has been fun and very challenging, there certainly is a bit of a difficulty jump in comparison to the first levels of the previous instalments, which were a bit easier to handle. Though I’m not complaining, to be honest, we definitely needed a challenge.

But that is all for the Temple Ruins as we will be back with the third level of the India levels, The River Ganges. It mentioned water and I saw a bike, I’m going to hate this aren’t I?

#long post #tomb raider 3 #croud's playthrough #tomb raider #classic lara #classic tomb raider #playthrough #temple ruins #these darned statues will be the death of me #we're making a comeback!

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seven-seas-of-rhye-bread · 6 years

Text

Ben X Reader Part -Who Knows

Oh, hi again. This is the last part of the Ben fic I’ve been working on since December (yikkkessssssss).

This is SMUT-- pure and simple.

Also, don’t ask me where the other parts are, they have been lost to the depths of Tumblr because I forgot to bookmark them, weeeeeee....

The hot water beat down on your head and rolled off your shoulders, the smell of sweat and sea washing off your body. Despite Honolulu's soaring temperatures, the hot water felt like a godsend as you tried to get the sand out of every nook and cranny-- which was proving to be a difficult feat.

It had been well after nightfall that you and Ben had parted ways-- having spent the whole day together, exploring Oahu; Kailua beach, Waimea bay, shave ice at Matsumoto's, the pineapple maze at the Dole plantation. It had occurred to you, as Ben gave you a taste of his rainbow shave ice, that you had never felt this comfortable with a man.

Your dating life had been plagued by aloof guys who played games like their lives depended on it, but Ben was different; he didn't play hard to get, he wasn't afraid to let on how much he liked you-- it was as foreign to you as it was wonderful.

After dinner and a couple rounds of drinks in the hotel restaurant he had walked you to your room. "I had a great time today-- thanks for coming with me..." he had said as you two laced your fingers together. You had thought he looked so cute, with his nose pinched pink with a slight sunburn. He leaned in and kissed you; lightly sucking your lower lip as he pulled away. You had watched him walk away, slowly, towards the elevator, before shutting your door.

Camille finally had a free day tomorrow, so you had told Ben you'd be busy for the day, and as much as you wanted to hang out with Cam, you'd certainly be missing him.

Determining that you were finally sand-free, you turned off the faucets and wrapped yourself in one of those plush, terry-cloth robes the hotel provided. Grabbing a towel, you started to squeeze the water out of your tresses as you went back into your room, laying down on your bed. You were about to reach for the tv remote when there was a slow, tentative knock at the door. You made your way slowly to the door and standing on your toes, you looked through the spyhole and saw Ben.

He looked almost nervous, chewing on his lip with his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Opening the door, he looked up and gave a small, relieved smile.

"Hey..." he said his voice quiet and soft."Everything alright?" you asked, opening up the door so he could come in.

He walked through the threshold and into your room, looking out the bay window over the inky black ocean before turning back around.

"Yeah, I just--" he paused, considering his words, the hint of a smile on his lips. "Just...?" you coaxed, leaning against the teak bureau.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you..." he confessed, a boyish flush creeping up his cheeks. You smiled to yourself, the words taking root inside your heart, igniting a fire in your belly.

"I'm sorry-- that was probably weird to--" But before he could finish, your lips were on his; you kissed him deeply, your hands on either side of his face. His hands found its way to your waist, his fingers hooking onto the sash of your bathrobe, pulling you in closer.

Soon, your hands were under his t-shirt, snaking up the smooth, muscular landscape of his back-- his skin still hot from the sun. You hoisted his shirt above his head and tossed it behind you. His fingers pulled at the knot on the front of your bathrobe, undoing it slowly and opening the robe up. You shrugged the robe off, letting it pool at your feet.

Ben looked you up and down, his eyes unblinking, "Christ, you're beautiful..." he whispered, pulling you in closer, so your bodies were up against one another.

You could feel his hardening cock pressing against you through his sweats, and trailed your hand down his body. You tugged at his waistband and pulled the sweats down, revealing his perfect pink cock.A low moan escaped his lips as you ran your fingers along his length and he stopped kissing you, his head lolling up towards the ceiling.

He looked back down at you, his eyes bright and determined, "Lay down. Now."

You obliged him without a word, feeling desire pulsing through your body. He settled between your legs, holding your gaze as he took his time placing kisses on your inner thighs towards your core. Ben trailed his tongue up your slit before kissing your clit gently, your hips bucking up slightly in anticipation.

His tongue felt hot and velvety as he flicked it across the rosy nub of flesh again and again, eliciting soft moans that grew louder as his pressure increased. "Fuck, Ben..." you breathed, grasping the comforter in your fist, while your other hand caressed the back of Ben's head. His tongue worked your pussy tirelessly, his mouth devouring every inch. He suddenly pushed your legs back, burying his tongue in your cunt.

You watched in amazement as Ben fucked you with his tongue, his eyes barring down into your own until your eyes snapped shut, the pleasure almost too much to handle.

"Ben, I'm gonna-- I'm gonna cum.." you whispered out breathlessly.

And just as you were about to go over the edge, Ben pulled away. Your head snapped up as you looked at him in confusion and frustration-- you were almost seeing red.

His glistening lips curled into a small smile, "not yet, baby girl..."

He positioned himself between your legs and straddled you, his lips pressing hot kisses all over your body.You grabbed Ben's face gently and pulled him in, tasting your salty-sweetness on his mouth in hungry and sloppy kisses. Ben reached his hand down to his cock, positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly slid in. You broke from his kiss and cried out, from both pain and pleasure. He was thick and your walls definitely felt the strain.

He looked up at you in concern, his brows furrowed together, "you want me to stop?"

"No, god-- please don't stop."

He smirked and continued to fill you with his length. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in closer, till he was completely inside you.

"Fuck me, Ben-- please fuck me..." you begged, the heat in your belly becoming almost too much to bear.

Ben didn't need further coaxing. He began to fuck you proper, each thrust bringing you closer to your inevitable orgasm. With your hand braced against the headboard, his thrusts became deeper, hitting the spot that sends you over the edge. Your back arches up towards Ben as you ride out the electricity pulsing through your body. Ben moans as your walls tighten around his sensitive cock and he leans down to plant deep kisses along your collarbone.

You whispered sweetly to Ben, "can I get on top?"

His hands found their way under you and with a swift move he flipped over so you were now on top. You loved the view of Ben; his body slightly sweaty, cheeks flushed with sun and exertion.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, a sigh of relief and pleasure coming from both of you. Slowly grinding into him, you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. Ben had closed his eyes, his face twisted in pleasure. He reaches up and grasps your hips, his fingers pressing into your flesh, and sets the pace. You grind down onto his cock, relishing the feeling of him inside you. You can feel Ben's hips start to thrust up into you, and that's when you stop.

Ben's eyes snap open and he looks up at you, the green of his irises somehow looking darker.

"Not yet, baby boy..." you say teasingly.

You hold his eyes as you slip off of his cock and position yourself between his legs, giving his cock an agonizingly slow lick up the entire length. Ben groans and runs his hands over his face.

You love seeing him like this, at the mercy of your mouth. When you take his whole length into your mouth, another groan escapes his rosy lips. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, Y/N" he breathes out, his head lolling back onto the pillow.

You take his cock deeper and deeper, eventually letting it hit the back of your throat, loving the feel of his veiny cock in your mouth. Working the tip with your mouth, and the length with your hand, Ben moans softly, his breathing becoming more shallow and erratic as he reaches his orgasm. His hips buck up ever so slightly, and you watch Ben as his cum fills your mouth. His cock twitches as you release the tip with a soft pop and swallow.

As soon as your head hits the pillow, Ben pulls you in for a kiss. He rests his forehead against yours, and mumbles sleepily, his voice full of sex, " you are fucking amazing..."

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #BoRhap cast #BoRhap #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #fanfic #ben hardy smut

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lanamemories · 5 years

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scapegoat | self para

Lana hadn’t spoken to her brother Caleb for almost three months.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying, though. She’d easily called him over a hundred times, in the span of that duration. Sent quadruple that, in texts.

She’d even tried to email him, once or twice, feeling a little like she was stuck inside of a time warp, materialised in the dingy office cubicle of a tall building in the noughties.

That was why, seeing him trudge up the Alpha Nu driveway after he’d sent her a lone sentence stating he was coming to visit, out of the blue, she couldn’t even wait until he reached the front door to run out and throw her arms around him.

“God, I missed you. I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. Missed you so much,” she got out in a pathetic choke against his shoulder, fingers scrunching up whatever fabric they could into fistfuls, clutching so tight she was almost straining the seams. Coaxing out rips.

His arms remained limp for almost a whole minute until a hand came up to offer a hesitant pat to the back of her head, eyes slipping shut for only a second before he promptly cleared his throat.

“Strangling me, a bit.”

“Sorry,” Lana practically gasped out, short for oxygen like the sight of him alone had winded her. When she pulled back, she had to tug up the cuff of her sleeve and blearily swipe along her lower lashes, spluttering out an embarrassed laugh at the fact she’d managed to well up that much, that fast. “Sorry, I just... Let’s go inside, okay? Let’s go inside.”

He let her lead him by the hand up the stairs -- hers clutching tight, his completely lax -- until she could click her bedroom door shut, letting go of him and gesturing a hand out like a tour guide.

“Voila! This is, um...” A sniff, to subtly compose herself. “This is my room.”

With iridescent pink netting strung up above her bed like a canopy, cushions everywhere, and window panes covered in personally cut strips of cellophane, all a different colour to emulate a cathedral’s stained glass, it looked like somebody had taken a bucket full of Lana and drenched the room in it, dripping from ceiling to carpet.

Caleb gave a brief glance around, eyes lingering on a framed photo of her and Tommy crouching and holding up peace signs besides a drunkenly comatose Caleb, before nodding once.

“It’s nice.”

Wordlessly, he moved towards the window. Bowed his head a little, to glance through a gap in her self made rainbow.

Padding to her bed, Lana leapt up to take a seat on the velvet throw on top.

“Where’ve, um...” trailed off, nerves ramping up until it felt like her heart was a fist in her throat. She studied the back of him. The broad slouch of his shoulders, like he couldn’t find the energy to pick them back up again. “Where’ve you been, Caleb? I tried--... I called, like, a bunch of times. Kind of... an insane amount, you know?” Wetting her lips as he didn’t move a muscle, she shifted slightly. It felt like she was doing something wrong, somehow, by bringing it up. Invalidating a sacred treaty they’d signed with quills dipped in blood. An ancient bind, not meant for breaking. “The... police, um... They said they called, too. From the hospital.”

“Did they find him?”

His voice sounded disconnected. The dial tone after the line goes dead.

Lana’s eyes dropped to her hands, thumbs fretting over a thread unravelling from her blanket. She started weaving it around her index finger.

“Yeah. Yeah, they found Danny. Our, um--... His friend Trent turned him in. He was staying at his parent’s townhouse, upstate, or something. Think they were away. But he’s--... He’s out, now, so.” Offering a nonsensical smile, tight at the edges, Lana’s gaze remained averted in spite of the fact he’d turned to face her. “So, yeah. He’s out on bail.”

“Well, that’s fucking bullshit,” Caleb stated, as blunt as a hammer to a nail. She could feel his eyes on her, drilling holes. Gauging her reaction. “He’s not allowed on campus, is he? Cops got measures in place?”

Nodding instantly, she continued her fidgeting.

“Yeah, he’s not. He’s, um... A lot of his friends are, though, so it’s kind of...” Gulping, she attempted to let out a laugh to diffuse the tension in her voice. “It’s been a lot, I guess. It’s just been kind of a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” he stated after a long pause, arms uncrossing so he could itch at the inner crevice of his elbow. “For not... being here.”

“It’s okay,” Lana insisted, eyes flying to study his face for the guilt she could easily spot on it, hiding in all of the nooks and crannies that he thought nobody else knew about. “It’s okay, you’re here, now.” A smile tugged on her lips at the corners, gentle and unassuming. The innocent kind, that could only be born from loving somebody that much. “That’s all that really matters.”

Nodding slightly, Caleb forced down a hard swallow before pushing up from the window ledge he’d been leaning against. “Lana, that’s... I have to... ask you something, actually. That’s why I’m....” trailed off, voice oddly vacant, almost as if he was steeling himself for something. Working up the nerve. “Have to ask something.”

Eyebrows pinching, Lana tilted her head like a dog that had just caught wind of a foreign screech at the back of the garden. Her concern was instant.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Do you want... Do you want to sit?” Bouncing lightly in a bid to create enough room, Lana patted a couple of times at her covers. “You can sit, if you need to. Come sit.”

“No, I don’t--... I don’t want to sit.” Dropping his eyes to his shoes with a sniff, Caleb shrugged. Couldn’t meet her gaze. Couldn’t look at how much admiration she had on her face, even now. “Look, I know this is fucking... weird, to ask, but I need to borrow some stuff. Some cash.”

A bewildered expression dawned on her face. She opened her mouth, then shut it again.

An awful feeling had started to twist in her gut. Slow realisation.

“You want... to borrow cash?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed quickly, still staring at a fixed point of the carpet. “Yeah, just a little. Just, erm... Two hundred, maybe? Do you have two hundred? I wouldn’t ask, but it’s rent, you know? It’s rent.”

Swallowing around a soft knot in her throat, Lana carried on staring at him.

Almost a minute passed before he lifted his chin, shot her a questioning look.

“What?”

“You need rent?” Voice small, she did her best not to let her disappointment show. “You came here for, um... You came here for rent?”

Silence.

“After, like... It’s been months. It’s been months, and you came here to ask me for rent?”

Letting out a breath he’d been holding at the sight of her lower lip trembling, Caleb shook his head.

“No, I came... Lana, I wanted to see you, this is just... I just needed to ask this, too. It’s a favour, you know? Help me get back on my fee--”

“Rent,” Lana repeated, cutting him off, throat strained with the effort it took to enunciate. “Caleb, I know where you’ve been staying. I know you’re crashing with Holden, and the other guys, at the warehouse. I know where you go to group. I know--... Do you think I’ve just, like... not thought about you? Not even--... Not checked up on you, at all? You don’t pay rent. You don’t pay rent, so what’s--...” trailed off, mouth gaping before she slipped up off the bed and rose to her feet.

Stepped closer.

Studied his face, for the Caleb she knew in it.

Something clicked.

“Caleb, roll--... Can you roll up your sleeves?”

“What?” Exasperated exhale splitting his lips, he pulled a face and wafted a hand. “Lana, forget it. Fucking forget it, alright? Forget I asked.”

“No. No, roll up your sleeves.” She took another step. “Can you just do it? Can you just roll up your--”

He swat her hand away when it encroached upon his forearm, even just the lightest sift of her fingertips inciting some animal instinct to back into a corner.

“I said just fucking leave it, Lana. Fucking--”

In a scrabble to yank up the material for herself, she almost lost her footing in his shove that followed. Knocked her tailbone against the edge of her bed. Pushed up to her feet, chest rising fast with adrenaline as she closed back in.

“You’re using.” It came out more like a fact than a question, eyes flitting frantically between his. “Caleb, you’re using? You’re--... God. God,” she exhaled, so harsh and fast that it made something sting. “How long? How long have--... And you came here to--... You came here to borrow money? For what? Do you owe something?”

He was adamantly avoiding her gaze, busy smoothing his sleeve back into place after the scuffle. By the way he straightened to his feet, it seemed like he was planning on leaving. Fleeing the aftermath post detonation, to avoid any pieces of shrapnel.

“Do you owe someone something? Is it--... Are you in trouble?”

“It’s fucking fine, Lana. It’s fine, I’ve got it under control.”

“You don’t. You don’t have it under control, you look--... Caleb, you look so tired.” Her voice wobbled slightly. “You look really, really tired.”

“Gee, thanks. Great for my ego, that.”

“It’s not funny! It’s not funny, Caleb!” The volume had soared with how adamantly she was insisting it, voice feeling like a piece of paper violently balled up and tossed inside a trash can, torn and creased beyond comprehension. Maybe she was tired, too. “You’re not--... God, you’re not okay. You’re--... Can you stay? You can stay, for the night, or something. Please, Caleb. You can stay.”

“Fucking--... Lana, I’m not your fucking kid. You don’t have to baby me, all the time. This is--... This is the shit I was sick of, you know? This is why I didn’t call. I’m sick of you acting like you have to take care of me, all the time. You don’t.” In a blink, he’d closed their distance. Grit the next part out, into her face. “I’m the big brother, remember? I’m the one that--”

“The one that what?” Blinking profusely, Lana’s feet felt rooted in place. Encased in cement. “The one that what? I don’t--... I’m not trying to baby you, okay? I’m just worried. I haven’t heard from you in months, and now--... You’ve lost weight,” she realised, hand reaching up with the aim of cupping his cheek, feeling the shallow sink beneath the bone there that was usually padded out slightly, cushioned by a reluctant smile in childhood. Her voice went small, afraid of his inevitable answer. “Please stay. We can work it out, okay? We can fix it, I promise.”

“Fix it?” He managed, delirious laugh coughed out as it caught him off guard. He shrank from her touch, hand performing another swat. “You think you can fix this, Lana? You think--... You think there’s anything left to fix? Fucking--... Look at me.” His jaw was trembling. “Look at me. Would you fucking look at me?”

“You’re still you. Caleb, you’re still--... Please,” she insisted, not even sure what it was that she was begging for, at this point. “Please, Caleb, I want you to stay.”

“What about what I want? What about what I fucking--... Shit, Lana, do you even get it? Do you even fucking get it, at all? I can’t do this. I can’t be whatever fucked up idea you have in your head, of who I’m meant to be. I can’t come running, when things happen. I can’t be that for you.”

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” Anger was such a foreign emotion to Lana that it took time to realise that was what was bubbling up inside her, a dam burst open after years of stuffing corks in every breach. “I’m not asking you to be anything. I never ask you to be--... I never ask for anything, Caleb. For years, I haven’t--... I don’t ask. I don’t ask, I just want you to be okay. I really just want you to be okay. And you can’t--... You’re not angry at me, okay? You’re not, so don’t. Don’t take it out on me. It isn’t... It isn’t fair.”

“I’m not angry at you? I’m not fucking--...” His voice fell short, eyes snapping up to meet hers as his voice trembled to an excruciating volume. “I’m angry at everything, Lana. I’m fucking angry, all the time! I’m fucking angry! At. Everything. All the time. All the fucking--... You don’t think I’m angry at you?” he questioned, stare hard. “You don’t think I’m fucking exhausted, from all the times--... I slept at the bottom of your bed, Lana. I slept with my eyes fucking open. You remember that? You remember getting to sleep, getting to fucking dream away, while I was up all night, watching the door? Do you fucking remember?”

“...I, um--... No,” fell below her breath, knees threatening to tremor. “Sometimes, yeah, but--... No.”

“No, and you know why? Because you got to fucking sleep. You got to sleep, while I watched the door. While I made sure those fucking pricks didn’t--... I’m exhausted. I’m fucking exhausted, and I can’t always be sleeping at the end of your bed. I can’t fucking look after you, all the fucking time.”

“I’m not asking for that. I never--...” Swallowing, Lana forced her chin to lift. Shoulders to tense, like she had any modicum of courage at all in the face of a Caleb so cold, she almost didn’t recognise him. “I was--... I was in that house, too. It was you and me. You and me,” she insisted, like if she kept repeating the phrase, she’d make a break through, somehow. Excavate the part of him that wasn’t so scary. “It was always you and me, don’t you get it? I didn’t--... I didn’t ask for them to--... I didn’t want to live there, either. I was scared, too.”

His expression stilled, slightly. Chapped lips were left damp by the irritable press of his tongue, as his head shook.

“It’s not the same. You don’t fucking get it, alright?”

“I don’t get it?” she repeated, voice incredulous. “I don’t... get it? I--...” Falling silent, Lana had to swallow twice in order to compose enough to speak. “What do you think happened when you left, Caleb? Where do you think I lived? A cave, somewhere? What, you think I just... Just turned into a bird, and flew away? I was there. I was right there. I didn’t have you. I didn’t have Tommy. I had--... I had that house, and empty rooms, and mom, and dad, and--...” She swallowed again. A third time.

“And that’s my fault, is it? That’s my fault, for wanting to get the fuck out of there?”

“No,” Lana said, resisting the urge to rectify the blur to her vision. Smear a sleeve over her eyes, again. “No, because I don’t blame you. I could never--... God, I could never blame you, and that’s the difference. You weren’t a burden, to me. You’ve never been a burden, to me.”

The quiet in the room spoke volumes.

“But I guess that’s not--... I guess that’s why we’re different. Because I don’t blame you, for leaving. But you--... You blame me, right? For needing--... Because you had to look after me? You blame me?”

Caleb shook his head in disagreement, but the fact that he didn’t pipe up with anything hardly provided a believable objection.

“Right,” Lana broke the silence after what felt like an eternity, inhaling sharply. Her chest felt tight. “Right, um... Right, well. It was nice of you to--... It was nice of you to come check on me. Really nice of you to--... Cool that you care, I guess. That’s really cool.”

“You know that’s not...” trailed off, Caleb’s hands stiff as they stuffed into his pockets. “You know I care about you, Lana. That’s not what I’m fucking trying to say.”

“You have, like... You have a really weird way of showing it. You know that?” came accompanied by a nod, gloss in her eyes more obvious with every slightest jostle. “You have a really weird way of showing it.”

“Yeah.” Bowing his head, he stared at the carpet for a few seconds before righting his posture. “I should... go.”

“No, you don’t--... You don’t have to. You don’t--... You don’t have to go, Caleb. Please. You don’t.”

Floorboard creaking as he plotted his next step, he gently coaxed her head close so that he could press a fleeting kiss to the top of her head, lips clenched still as they mussed against all of that auburn.

He was already by the door again by the time her head snapped up, eyes desperate as they watched him reach a hand to the door knob. At her voice, he froze.

“I was just a kid, you know? I never meant for you to--... I was just... a kid. I didn’t mean to be--... I was a kid.”

“Yeah,” he replied, eyes flitting up to catch hers in a split second blur. Probably the last time she’d see him again, for a long time, if he had any say about it. “I was, too.”

Wrenching the door open, he was halfway down the staircase before she appeared at the banister, clutching onto the wood as she dangled over, far, to catch enough of a glimpse of him.

“I’ll send you the money. I’ll send it, if you stay.”

Looking up at her with a strained sigh, paused four steps from finding his exit, Caleb simply shook his head and then carried on walking.

The door clicked shut, but she didn’t budge a muscle. She stared at the place he’d been standing for the longest time.

When she got back into her room, she opened her banking app and sent him the cash.

#self para #drugs tw #addiction tw #abuse tw #jst implied frm... tlk abt their childhood n stuff #sighs.... forlornly.....at this #its quite long bt jst. had muse to explain where her brothers been fr all these months

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stopforamoment · 6 years

Text

Road Trip Games (6 of 12)

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks

Word Count: 1,726

Rating: E for Everyone

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this.

Summary: Bastien, Rinda, and Henry enjoy some cheesy road trip family games as they drive to the palace.

. . . . Pretend Tumblr put a “Keep Reading” link here! . . . . .

Bastien noticed how much Henry resembled his mom. He had Rinda’s blonde hair and impulsive smile, but he also had a cute dimple when he grinned. He got that from his father.

He also inherited Jameson’s blue eyes, and like Rinda, his eyes were a strong tell. They were a brilliant cobalt blue when he was laughing. But when he was angry or frustrated they turned a slate blue, almost grey, like a storm rolling over the ocean. And like Rinda, he was good natured until someone pushed him too far.

Although Henry was a good kid and usually polite in public, it was also clear he was a prankster who kept Rinda on her toes. After the game Bastien was just looking at Rinda and laughing. “He’s a lot like you, Rinda.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know. My life is a living hell. The worst is when Henry knows I’m trying not to laugh, because some of his shit really is funny, but he’s only ten so I have to put the smack down.

. . . . .

Bastien helped load the luggage and he was waiting by the car as Rinda locked up the house. Suddenly Rinda and Henry made eye contact and they both started running to the car. “No! I am the adult. You are NOT riding shotgun. Bastien, LOCK THE CAR DOOR!” Henry was laughing, trying to open the passenger side door. “This is crap, Henry!” They were wrestling around and Bastien just stood and watched. Suddenly Rinda pinched Henry’s neck and he went to his knees. “Bastien, now!” He quickly clicked the fob to unlock the door and Rinda jumped over Henry to get in.

Once they were finally settled in, Bastien in the driver’s seat, Rinda in the passenger seat, and Henry in the back seat, Bastien turned to Rinda. “Did you just use a pressure point on your son to get the front seat?” Rinda ignored Bastien, but Henry was laughing. “Yeah, mom! What kind of mother are you?”

Rinda slowly turned to Bastien, trying to keep a straight face. “You’ve only known him a couple days, Bastien. Don’t judge me.”

. . . . .

After they were driving for awhile Henry and Rinda began to play I Spy, which quickly turned into a game of insults between the two of them:

“I spy with my little eye someone who snores when she sleeps.”

“I spy with my little eye someone who always farts when he’s awake.”

“I spy with my little eye someone who can’t function without her coffee in the morning.”

“I spy with my little eye someone who needs to be reminded to brush his teeth every morning.”

“I spy with my little eye someone who set off the smoke alarm when she tried to make dinner.”

“I spy with my little eye someone who picked his nose and wiped it on his mother. And laughed.”

“I spy with my little eye someone who twisted her ankle trying to kick a soccer ball.”

“I spy with my little eye someone who bounced a soccer ball in the house and hit himself in the face when it bounced back.”

Bastien kept his eyes focused on the road, but he started to chuckle. Big mistake to draw attention back to himself. Rinda quickly turned on him when it was her turn. “I Spy someone who wishes he would have just allowed us to play the radio.” Everyone started to laugh. Bastien chimed in. “I Spy someone who is going to be banished to the back seat if she doesn’t behave.” Henry was cracking up at that point, and Bastien looked in the rearview mirror to give Henry a big grin.

Rinda quickly cut in. “Okay, let’s switch it up so Mr. Lykel can play. What road trip games did you play as a kid?”

Bastien smiled. “Well, we did the alphabet game, but I have a feeling you would cheat too much.” Henry was about to object, but Bastien actually gave Rinda a pointed stare. Rinda rolled her eyes. Bastien thought for a moment. “Hmm. Why don’t we do ‘I’d Rather’?”

Henry leaned forward. “What’s that?”

“Well, I give you two options, and you tell me which one you’d rather choose. But you have to choose one. Otherwise it’s cheating. And you have to explain why. So Henry, would you rather live in a treehouse with no electricity, running water, or WiFi, OR a cave where you had electricity, running water, and WiFi?”

Henry thought for a moment. “Would the treehouse have a bathroom?”

“No. No running water.”

“Hmm. Well I could just pee in the yard . . .” Rinda just shook her head. “Okay, I would have to do cave. I’d miss my iPad and Youtube videos too much. Mom, what about you?”

“What’s the temperature Mr. Lykel? Would it be really hot or really cold?”

“Well, it would get kind of hot in summer. And cold in winter, but you’d have warm clothes and blankets.”

“Would there be a rope swing where I could swing from my treehouse and dive into a cool lake in summer?”

Bastien smiled. “As you wish.”

“Wait, mom. I didn’t know there would be a rope swing. Hold on . . .” Rinda grinned. “Sorry can’t change your answer. You’re living in a cave and I’m living in the tree house with a rope swing. Mr. Lykel, what about you?”

“Well, if I can pee in the yard . . .”

“Or the lake,” Rinda added. They grinned at each other while Henry snorted from laughing.

Henry went next. “Mr. Lykel, would you rather see fireworks or go to the circus?”

“Hmm, I’d rather see a circus. The fireworks are kind of loud.” Henry nodded. “Mom’s cousin was a soldier and he hates fireworks because the noise sounds like gunfire and it reminds him of when he was deployed.” Rinda was turned around and giving Henry the mom look. He blushed and quickly stammered, “Mom, what about you? Fireworks or circus and why?”

Rinda laughed. “Fireworks. I love the Fourth of July.”

Henry grinned. “Aaaaand . . .”

Rinda looked confused. “And the parade, and having everyone over for lunch, and doing a fire with s’mores. I love everything about the Fourth of July.”

“But mom, why don’t you like the circus?”

Rinda blushed. “Um, it makes me sad to see the animals in cages. And I’m scared the trapeze people might fall.”

“Aaand, what else are you afraid of, mom?”

Rinda sighed. “I knew there was a reason you asked that question. Clowns. I am absolutely terrified of clowns.” Bastien looked at her in shock. “It’s true, Mr. Lykel. They just weird me out.”

Bastien grinned. “Okay Henry, what about you?”

“I’ll go with circus. But only because it’s really funny when mom’s trying not to freak out when she sees clowns.”

Rinda went next. “Would you rather have the ability to read other people’s mind or the ability to see into the future? AND,” she quickly added, “you wouldn’t be able to do anything to change that future.” Bastien glanced over at Rina. She just shrugged.

“See the future! I’ll know the newest Lego sets before anyone else,” Henry quickly yelled. “Mr. Lykel?”

“Hmm. If I could read people’s minds that would help me a lot with my job. What about you, Rin . . . Mrs. Parks?”

“See the future. I don’t have the self esteem to handle knowing what people really think of me.” Bastien raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

. . . . .

When they got to the palace it was late, but Bastien wanted to take Rinda and Henry on a quick tour before they were in for the night. He showed them to their room and patiently waited while Henry checked out every nook and cranny. There were two rooms and a bathroom, and it was much better than any hotel he’d ever stayed at. Bastien gave Henry a solemn look. “At the palace we take pride in making our guests feel welcome. I am honored that the accommodations meet your exacting standards.” Rinda just rolled her eyes at the two of them.

Bastien showed Rinda and Henry the main hallway, how to get to the dining area, and where they would meet in the morning. “Mom, is there a vending machine or ice machine?” Rinda shook her head. “Nope, sorry bug.”

“Actually, Henry. There are people who would bring that to your room if you ask. It’s better than room service.”

Rinda quickly turned to Henry, anticipating his question. “No, Henry. Just no.”

“Mom . . . please?”

Rinda turned to Henry and spoke in a low voice. “Bärchen. Genug.” Grandma Lorinda spoke fluent German, and Rinda frequently used German when she wanted to reprimand Henry without embarrassing him in front of other people. Or when she was absolutely sick of his shit. Either way, Henry knew it was time to knock it off.

Bastien quietly watched their exchange before clearing his throat. “Henry, there’s one more thing, but this one is a special surprise for your mom.” Rinda gave Bastien a puzzled look as he paused dramatically in front of a large closed door. “Mrs. Parks, I know you have access to every library and archive in Cordonia . . . but I don’t think you’ve seen this one yet.” Bastien opened the door and Rinda stood in shock. She didn’t even have to step in to see how large this library was. Floor to ceiling bookshelves and two stories. Bastien laughed. “You can walk in, you know.”

Rinda shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just taking it in.” She gave Bastien a brilliant smile. “This is . . . absolutely amazing. Thank you so much for bringing me here.” Rinda thought about the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast, when the Beast showed Belle the library. Most girls were probably in awe of the scene where Belle danced with the Beast in the beautiful yellow dress. Or when the Beast turned into the prince. But not Rinda. When she saw how cute the shy beast was when he wanted to please Belle, and when he made Belle close her eyes before leading her into the library, then telling her to open her eyes . . . aaaah. Most romantic surprise ever.

Link to Beauty and the Beast Library Scene

#bastien lykel #ofc rinda parks #choices trr #a mother's love series

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this-darkness-light · 7 years

Text

Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

Prompt: early childhood teacher!Dean Pairing: Dean/Lucifer Rating: Mature Summary: Jack overhears something he shouldn't have and has some very interesting questions as a result. Word Count: 2,306 Warnings: adult language and naughty words Tags: humor, borderline crack, Lucifer is not Lucifer, Lucifer is called Nick, AU-No supernatural

Read on AO3

Written for the SPN AU and Trope Bingo Challenge.

Tagging: @brieflymaximumprincess @spnaubingo (I think this is the right URL; please let me know if I’m wrong!)

-.-.-.-.-

Dean grins and pushes Nick against the whiteboard sprawling across the front of the room, careful not to smudge the big red bubble letters of today’s math lesson. Would be a shame to accidentally erase 1 + 1 = 2, because right now that’s the truest thing Dean knows. Nick’s back hits the whiteboard so hard a few of the capped markers and erasers jostle about in the ledge and clatter to the beige carpet, but whatever. It’s already polka dotted with erasers and pencil stubs and rubber bands and whatever else these kids chuck at each other (and at Dean) while Dean’s back is turned.

“Finally got you to myself for a few minutes,” Dean husks into Nick’s ear as he skates his fingertips down the smooth, warm skin of the other man’s sides beneath his clothes, making him shiver and moan softly. Mmm. Music to Dean’s ears. Not that he minds the kids chattering and laughing and singing to themselves as they do their work or play over in the toy nook when their work’s done. It’s just nice to hear something so…adult for a change of pace.

Nick hums and slips his arms around Dean’s waist, squeezing the pert globes of his ass through the stupid fancy dress slacks Dean has to wear to work. Apparently showing up in denim and flannel is against the school’s dress code for teachers. “Not quite, but close enough,” Nick murmurs just as a well-timed shriek rings out from the playground. The hell are these little cock blockers up to now? Stiffening, both men lean forward (or in Dean’s case, backward) to see what the fuss is all about just as two colorful blurs dart past the large window.

Eh. They’re just playing tag or some shit. Whatever. Let ‘em burn off all that energy so they can focus on math after recess. With a shrug Dean faces Nick and, with a borderline demonic smirk, slams him back against the whiteboard, knocking another marker to the floor as he pins him in place. Nick yelps but it quickly morphs into a moan as Dean captures his lips in a deep kiss. “Now where were we?” Dean asks when he pulls away a few seconds later, still close enough that their lips brush together as he talks.

In reply Nick cups Dean’s face and urges him forward for another kiss, this time with more teeth and tongue, but not enough to get either of them feeling frisky. “Mmm. Right about…there.”

And yeah, okay, it’s sort of weird making out with his boyfriend in a room with brightly colored ABCs and one-two-threes trimming the walls and cubbies full of backpacks and lunch boxes near the front door and stick figure Crayola masterpieces pinned to the cork board near his desk. But this is the only time during the week they really get to see each other. Even though Dean gets home in the early afternoon, by that time Nick is already heading off to work. And no way is Dean gonna ask a single dad struggling to support himself and his son to play hooky just for some tonsil hockey. So they make do with making out during recess while the kids are too busy running around like hooligans to notice what Mr. Winchester and Mr. Kline are getting up to, and tease each other until the weekend, when they can – ahem – get together. In the Biblical sense.

Speaking of the weekend…

“Am I seeing you this Saturday?” Dean nuzzles a kiss onto Nick’s neck as he tugs the other man away from the white board and into a tight embrace. It’s insane how good it feels to just hold his lover in his arms. Before his brain can jump off the high dive and drown in a pool of fuzzy pink chick flick feelings, he reaches around and smacks Nick smartly on his ass. It’s a nice ass, too. Tight enough to bounce a nickel off of it.

Nick’s in the middle of answering when Dean smacks him. “Yeah, I THINK so.” Dean cackles and earns himself a playful swat on the shoulder. “Keep that up, and you won’t get a piece of this until next week,” Nick says with mock indignation.

Dean just snorts. Yeah right. His boyfriend’s a cockslut and they both know it. “You couldn’t go another whole week without my cock filling you up, splitting you open nice and wide.”

Nick considers this for a moment, then shrugs. “You do have a nice cock.” He doesn’t even blush, just quirks an eyebrow and winks up at Dean like the sassy little shit he is.

Dean loves it.

Grinning, he leans forward for another kiss when a small voice pipes up from behind them. “Daddy, what’s a cock?”

Somewhere, the record player oozing cheesy chick flick music glitches to a halt. Or maybe that’s just Dean’s brain shutting down in a shit storm of oh fuck. Shoving Nick aside (”Oof,” Nick grunts as he hits the whiteboard for the third time that morning, sending the rest of the markers and erases clattering to the floor), Dean spins around and peers past the clusters of brightly colored plastic desks and giant foam planet balls hanging from the ceiling (last week’s art project) to see the sandy brown mop and wide blue eyes of —

“Jack.” Nick steps forward, straightening his shirts and nudging Dean out of his way with his shoulder to squat in front of his son. Dean swears under his breath and runs a hand through his hair. Great. This is just perfect. Who knows how long the kid’s been standing there? This is not the kind of vocab lesson a kindergartener needs.

“Why aren’t you playing outside with the other kids? It’s a nice day,” Nick’s saying, gesturing vaguely at the slightly cloudy but otherwise sunshiny morning visible through the window.

“But what’s a cock?” Jack asks again, not taking the go-play-outside bait.

Coughing, Dean shuffles his feet and scrubs a hand along the back of his neck. “It’s…uh…Um.” He’s tempted to dial his desk phone from his cell phone to get himself out of this mess, let Nick tackle this parenting problem all by his onesies. But then Nick might really get pissed at him and he might not get laid this weekend, and that’s a tragedy Dean can’t live with.

Suddenly Nick perks up and snaps his fingers. “Aha! Its, uh, its’ another word for ‘rooster.” He gives a shaky little laugh and pats Jack on the shoulder, obviously proud of himself for pulling a G-rated answer out of his ass at the last second. Dean inclines his head, silently giving Nick props. Hopefully that’ll satisfy the kid and he’ll skip on out to the monkey bars so he and Nick can get back to their own kind of goofing off.

Instead, Jack tilts his head and stares up at them with laser like focus. “Where does he live?”

Nick’s face scrunches up, looking as hopelessly lost as Dean feels. His thoughts race, searching every nook and cranny of his mind for what the hell Jack might mean, but no brave answer pops up and volunteers as tribute, so he’s left spinning his wheels.

Clearing his throat, he inches toward Nick for some adult-vs-child solidarity. “Where does —” He’s so focused on Jack he forgets all about the foam solar system hanging from the ceiling and smacks himself upside the head with Neptune. Grumbling darkly under his breath, he glares at the offending blue foam ball and gently bats it aside. “Where does who live, buddy?”

Jack’s eyes flick up to him. “Your rooster.” He turns his gaze back onto Nick, who visibly flinches like someone socked him in the stomach. “You said Mister Winchester had a nice cock, daddy.” Nick’s face is the same color as the whiteboard. “So where does he live?”

Goddamn it, this kid’s too smart for Nick and Dean’s own good. Dean would be proud of his student and possible future step-son (hey, ya never know, it could happen) if the situation hadn’t been so damn awkward. Sweat beads on his forehead, and a drop trickles down the side of his face. Shit, this is almost as bad as getting interrogated by the cops. Maybe worse.

Nick scratches at the stubble on his chin and glances up at Dean, a pleading look for help on his face. Dean shakes his head and holds out his empty hands, ‘cause he’s got nothing. Besides, he fielded the last question. Nick’s on his own with this one. Nick shoots him a narrow-eyed squint, lips flat across his face, but honestly, Dean has no idea what to say here. Besides, Nick’s the parent.

Setting his jaw, Nick huffs and then turns back to Jack, who’s patiently waiting like a little angel for an answer to his question. “It’s, uh. It lives in his, in his…” he trails off, fingers twitching in the air like he’s hoping the parenting gods will drop another kid-friendly answer into his hands. Then his eyes light up and a slow smile spreads on his face like ink staining water. “In his backyard! Yeah. The rooster lives in De— Mr. Winchester’s back yard.” He sits back on his haunches, looking all kinds of smug, and bounces his eyebrows at Dean, obviously pleased with himself.

Dean isn’t pleased with Nick though, oh hell no. At this point he’d kinda like to strangle him. Just so Nick knows how not-pleased Dean is with him, he none-too-gently kicks Nick in the shin. What the hell? he mouths at him, eyes bugging out of his skull.

Nick shrugs a shoulder in a very sorry-not-sorry sort of way. What did you want me to say? he mouths back. Anything but that! Dean silently screams at him. Oblivious to the silent conversation the adults are having above his head, Jack’s face bursts into a smile bright enough to rival the sunshine outside. Toddling over to Dean, he tugs on his pants leg. “Please bring your rooster to class tomorrow, Mister Winchester? For show an’ tell? I wanna pet him.”

Dean blinks down at Jack. Goddamn it. He can’t shoot down the hope brimming in this kids eyes, but where the hell is he supposed to get a goddamn rooster by tomorrow morning?

Nick’s grinning along with his son. Hmph. His ass is saved, so of fucking course he goes and throws Dean under the big yellow school bus. Asshole. Dean vows to get back at him later, but now, all he can do is swallow around the rooster-shaped lump in his throat and say, “Uh, yeah. Sure thing, buddy. Now go out and play, okay? You’ve still got — “ he checks his watch “—six more minutes of recess.”

Jack claps his hands and laughs, bouncing from foot to foot. “Okay!” Then he’s gone, tumbling out the door. Dean and Nick get as far as sharing a relieved look when Jack starts screaming outside. “Mister Winchester is gonna bring his cock tomorrow for show and tell!”

Nick bursts out laughing, doubling over and slapping his knees and repeating Jack’s announcement in a wheezy voice.

Dean just groans and wanders over to his chair, sinking down into it and covering his face with both hands. This is just fantastic. Fan-fucking-tastic. An hour or two from now, he’s gonna get bombarded with concerned phone calls from concerned parents. The damn thing’s gonna ring all afternoon. Probably all night too. He peeks out from between his fingers to see Nick still chortling away, face all shiny and red.

Oh yeah. He’s definitely making sure Nick will be too sore to walk straight for a week.

Bonus scene:

Dean’s just about ready to take a ride into hickville and bird-nap a random chicken when he remembers that Sam owns a small organic farm nearby. When school lets out that afternoon, he heads over and convinces Sam to let him borrow a rooster for the next day.

Fucking thing crows all night long, cock-a-doodle-dooing at the top of its voice. Dean stuffs his head under his pillow and tries to get some shut-eye, but each time he’s nodding off, the goddamn thing wakes him up again.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, he gets up at the ass-crack of dawn, which is actually a good thing because it escapes the crate when he goes to feed it and it takes Dean half a century to wrestle the mangy son of a bitch back inside. By the time he’s done he’s got scratches and peck marks all over his arms and neck and hands and he’s craving fried chicken like no one’s business.

Turns out the rooster loves kids, lets them pet its feathers and poke at its wattles and give it the five-year-old equivalent of a giant bear hug. But for some reason it hates Dean. Not that asshole Nick, or the flock of concerned parents that showed up for today’s show and tell. Just Dean. It attacks him every chance it gets, chases him around the classroom and pecks at his ass, all while cawing loudly and flapping its wings.

The kids laugh and clap and think it’s the best thing ever. Nick the asshole records the whole thing and puts it on YouTube, and damn it if it doesn’t go viral and get mentioned on the local weekend news, their feel-good story of the day. And of course Sam has to call and “congratulate” him on making the six o’clock news.

Dean makes sure Nick can’t walk straight or sit on a chair without a cushion for a month.

-.-.-.-.-

#this-darkness-writes #spn au bingo #ducifer #dean/lucifer #spn fanfic #mine #spn crack

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tisfan · 7 years

Text

WinterIron 2 - Mistletoe

For @ajanamyth

co-written by @27dragons

Read or subscribe at A03 - we might have gotten a little carried away here, so this fic is five parts, and we’ll be posting throughout the day, one chapter at a time. contains magically induced non-con (kissing only), animal transformations, some smut at the end, holiday shenanigans, and Tony has a tail.

Part One

Tony was remarkably good at faking being asleep for someone who did not, actually, sleep particularly well.

It had, in the past, led to him overhearing some very interesting conversations.

Which seemed to be the case, once again.

“You swear it will work,” came the musical tones of Amora, the Enchantress. That was not someone he expected in his bedroom, especially since he didn’t remember inviting her there. Her magic had often ensnared or enchanted members of his team, but it never lasted more than a day, and didn’t seem to muddle with memories, so if Tony didn’t remember her being around, chances were, she’d just shown up. Which made it even more curious that she’d be in his bedroom. Also, freaky.

“Of course it will work,” someone said, and that was even weirder, because -- despite his voice sounding high-pitched and childish when recorded -- Tony had heard himself often enough that he recognized his own voice. “Those who initiate a kiss under the mistletoe will be enchanted with the object of their embrace during the Yule period. I will ensnare all the Avengers, and keep them from interfering with our plans; they will not dare to refuse me, so in love will they all be. Your power, combined with mine, will assure it.”

Tony’s eyes flew open in shock and he saw himself, speaking with the Enchantress.

What the utter hell!?

Well, that’s what he meant to say, but what came out was an ungodly yowl, like someone had stepped on a bagpipe.

“Oh, look, he’s awake,” Enchantress cooed. She took a few steps toward Tony, who was busily freaking out, and… picked him up and cuddled him to her bosom.

What? What, what, and some more what?

“Careful, my dear,” the Tony who was not Tony said. “Kitty’s got claws.”

And so, apparently, Tony (the real one, not the other one, which Tony was rapidly understanding was probably Loki) did. He unsheathed them and took a swipe at the blonde goddess, maring her perfect skin. He also got in a few good digs at her belly and bit her on the chin before she flung him across the room. He twisted instinctively, rebounded off the floor and wrapped all of his pointy bits around her calf.

“We don’t have time for this, Amora,” the Tony who wasn’t Tony said. He reached down and grabbed Tony-kitty by the scruff and lifted. That was… weird. And unfair. All his weight dangled helplessly, which was really uncomfortable. Tony was growling and hissing. He couldn’t help that, and even if he could have, he’d have probably been doing it anyway. “You don’t want to interfere in this, Stark. Allow the evening to pass, and no one has to be hurt. But if you dare try to thwart me again… Amora, show him.”

The Enchantress, who was magically healing her wounds and scowling, held out what looked like a plain, wooden arrow. “Mistletoe,” she said. “With this arrow, Loki tricked the blind god Hafur into murdering Buldur, the eldest of Odin’s sons. Buldur remains in Hel to this day. The arrow cannot miss its target. If you try to stop us, we will set it loose, and it will strike the heart of your beloved, who will suffer as no human has ever suffered. For all eternity, as there exist no true heroes to bargain with Hela and return a soul.”

His beloved? Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date, much less been in a committed relationship. Which did not mean that the arrow and its magic wouldn’t find a target. Asgardian magic was... tricky. Much like those who cast it. And there was one obvious choice, wasn’t there? Tony’s crush on Bucky had long since passed the “amusing” and “simply lustful” stages and turned into something painfully poignant. Not that Tony’d ever breathed a word of it to anyone, not even Pepper or Rhodey. Which would likewise not keep the magic from working, damn it all. Tony hated magic.

There was also the possibility that they were bluffing, but though Loki would rather lie than save his own life with the truth, it seemed, Amora wasn’t one for a bluff. And she knew enough magic to make it hard for Loki to fool her on this. Which meant that whatever that arrow was, it wasn’t a normal piece of wood. They had him scruffed. Literally as well as figuratively. He growled again and hissed, and then grumbled out a chirrut of acquiescence. He had a week to figure out how to get around them. He had to make it count.

Amora propped one perfect leg up on his dressing bench and dabbed at the cuts there, each poke of her fingertip swirling green magic around that left nothing behind except the blots of blood. That was handy, Tony had to admit, but he wasn’t sure it was worth the cost; every magician he knew was either insane, a psycho, or both. “We should just kill him,” Amora sniffed. “He’s going to be trouble, even in this form. Or a frog? Frogs are harmless. And squishy. And they make a very satisfying splat when they hit the wall.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at her. “We can’t kill him, Enchilada,” he said, loftily. “Not if you want me to maintain this mask for any length of time. And let’s not with the frogs. Frogs are overdone. The cat will be locked up in the room. Let it be occupied with where the next can of wet food is coming from, and what of its own belongings it can use as a litter pan.”

“I hate you,” Amora said.

“I know. It adds spice to our game.”

Good, good. It was always a bonus when the bad guys hated each other. And if they thought they were locking him in here for long, they weren’t nearly as smart as they thought they were. Tony had built this place, much of it literally. He knew every nook, cranny, vent, and ductwork access hatch. The lack of hands would be a problem, but his intellect seemed to be intact (how did that even work; a cat’s brain was like an eighth the size of a human’s) so he was confident he’d figure something out. He hung, inert, in Loki’s grasp, willing the Asgardians to forget about him.

Loki sniffed and tossed Tony onto his bed -- the landing on his feet thing was pretty awesome, Tony had to admit that -- and shook a finger at him. “Don’t even think about trying to pounce again, Tiny Spark. You won’t starve in a week, but if I don’t come in to feed you, you’ll be very uncomfortable. There’s water in your facilities.” He pointed, in case Tony didn’t get the point; did Loki honestly expect him to drink out of the toilet?

“Come along,” Amora said. She shifted and changed; still a blonde, still green-eyed, but less… luminous. Like the sort of cover model Tony would have taken to a Christmas party a few years ago. She clung to Loki’s arm, eyes wide with admiration. Gotta hand it to her, bitch knew how to fake adoration.

Tony waited until they’d closed the door and he’d heard the lock engage, then jumped down off the bed. Step one: figure out how to get out of here.

There was a vent near the floor in the bedroom, but it was screwed into place. There were a couple in the bathroom, but they were in the ceiling. Oh! The cleaning ‘bot access hatch was in the closet, and it had a fairly simple manual override for the door, to allow for repairs and maintenance. Tony padded his way into the closet and found the hatch. It took a couple of tries to punch in the override code with his paws, but eventually the door slid open and stayed that way. Before a maintenance ‘bot could come to investigate, Tony slipped into the tunnel.

Maybe Thor could be warned before Loki and Amara got there; they’d have to put in an appearance at the party, and if Tony’s luck hadn’t entirely run out, Thor might still be in his quarters. Tony summoned a mental map of the building, and took off through the tunnels at a run.

#winteriron #stocking stuffers #mistletoe #tony x bucky #christmas fic #Loki is a little shit #tony is a cat #jealous bucky

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