#and deciding you will either donate it all in one place or split it between a few places | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shellshocklove · 2 years

Text

prologue: i don’t know where i stand | tom holland x reader

pairing: childhood!best friend!tom holland x female!reader

summary: it’s summer, and you’ve just moved into a new flat after a bad breakup with your now ex-boyfriend. when a celebratory trip to the nearby pub turns into an awkward meeting with your childhood best friend tom, old feelings you thought were gone gets brought back.

warnings: mentions and drinking of alcohol, mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this is the first time ever i’ve written and posted anything on here (pls be gentle). english is also not my first language so if you see any spelling/grammar mistakes, no you didn’t 🤪 i woke up one day with this idea in my head and started writing it mostly for myself. when it started getting long i thought that maybe i should post it. i don’t really see myself as a writer- i just wrote this for fun. now i’m hoping somebody else will enjoy it! feel free to send me an ask or a message if you want to be tagged! happy reading! 💗

fic playlist: grudges - paramore // bros - wolf alice // i will - mitski // all i want - joni mitchell // let it be me - nina simone // i don’t know where i stand - joni mitchell // sunday - the cranberries // no use i just do - hayley williams // a case of you - joni mitchell // just a lover - hayley williams

series masterlist

“Where do you want this box, y/n?”

You turned your head to Maria. She was struggling with a big moving box labelled “KITCHEN”. You smiled at her and said, “The kitchen”. She nodded and wobbled into the kitchen. A moment later you heard a big thud and a quiet “Of course. It says so right here on the box”. You chuckled to yourself while you continued placing your books on your bookshelf.

“This is the last one,” you peeked your head up from your box of books just in time to see Matt drop a box labelled “FRAGILE TABLEWARE”. When the box hit the ground, you heard something break inside. A loud gasp left your lips.

“Matt! Can’t you read!?” Maria said sternly, “It says fragile!” Matt put his hands up, he looked like a puppy that had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“Sorry!”

You gave Matt a reassuring look, “It’s okay, Matt. I have other plates, don’t worry.”

This wasn’t actually true. You and Jasper had split the tableware between the two of you. That meant that you had only ended up with six of the nice plates and he had gotten the other six in the set. You debated bringing those ugly plates you had bought when you moved into your first flat, but you never used them, and at the old flat they had only gathered dust in the cupboard. So, you had decided to donate them. Why you’d only bothered buying 12 plates together was beyond you.

“I’m so sorry we can’t stay longer and help you with the unpacking,” Maria said bringing you back to reality. “We still have some packing left and I still need to go buy some stuff for our trip.”

You nodded and looked around your new empty living room, “Don’t worry, Maria. I still have some painting and furniture shopping to do. I probably won’t be done here until next year anyway!”

You had gotten lucky with this apartment. It was relatively cheap, and you were able to move in on short notice. It wasn’t the most modern looking flat and it was definitely a fixer-upper, but with your connections and expertise through your job as an interior architect, it shouldn’t be a problem.

“I think this flat needs more than a paint job,” Matt chuckled while he put on his jacket, “but, I’ll give it to you. This place definitely has potential. These big windows give you beautiful lighting in here, and the high ceiling and the loft makes it feel a lot airier and bigger.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Matt. The big windows, the tall ceiling, and the loft where among the things that sold you on this flat.

“How you got this flat as cheap as you did and fast as you did, I don’t understand.” Matt was looking at you now and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know either. Apparently, it’s been vacant for a long time and the old owner was desperate to get rid of it.” Matt gave you a surprised look while Maria was gathering her things and putting her jacket on.

You chuckled at his face, “There’s probably a reason I don’t want to know for why it’s been vacant for so long… Maybe it’s haunted?” you said playfully. “Or maybe someone was murdered here?”

This time Maria was the one that laughed, “We’ll see you at the pub later, right?” Maria asked while changing the subject.

You shrugged “I don’t kno–“

“I know you’re tired, but we need to celebrate your new flat.” Maria pleaded.

You let out a sigh. “Okay... I’ll come”

“Amazing! Seven okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded.

“Great! Matt will buy the first round.” Maria squealed, and Matt shot you both a confusing look.

“Who said I was buy–“, was all he could say before Maria pushed him out the door followed by a “See you at seven!” and the door slamming shut behind them.

You chuckled to yourself over your two friends, but your smile faded when you realized you suddenly were alone. You had prepared for this, but the silence was more deafening than you’d thought it would be. You picked up another book from the box you were unboxing. “We have always lived in the castle” by Shirley Jackson. Jasper had given you this for your birthday last year. You had been eyeing it in the bookstore and almost bought it several times. You looked around your new living room. There were boxes stacked everywhere. Boxes filled with memories. The book started to feel heavy in your hand – so you quickly placed it on the bookshelf.

The rest of your day consisted of unpacking the essentials. You dug out you Bluetooth speaker form one of the boxes and put on one of your favourite playlists. In between singing and dancing; you made your bed (which currently consisted of a mattress in the middle of your bedroom) and unpacked some of your clothes, toiletries, and kitchen stuff. Around five o’clock you could hear your stomach screaming out for food. You hadn’t gotten around to do a food shop yet, so you settled for a takeout pizza (something you weren’t mad about).

When the pizza arrived, you sat down on the floor eating it straight from the box while you scrolled through Instagram. You clicked through some stories, but when the username jasperj.96 came up on your screen, your heart sunk to your stomach. It was a video of him and his parents moving boxes into his friend Theo’s place.

You weren’t surprised. You knew he also were in the middle of moving, but it felt bittersweet. You debated replying to his story, since he would see that you had seen his story, but you decided against it. Instead, you put down your phone and finished your pizza. You should probably start getting ready anyway, you thought.

You dug through your boxes for some clothes and ended up fishing out some wide legged blue jeans and a white linen wrap blouse from one of the boxes. It was Saturday, but you didn’t plan on staying long so you didn’t bother with getting dolled up. When you were done getting ready, you saw that it was seven already.

“Shit,” you muttered before grabbing your phone and wallet, and put them in your bag. You grabbed your thrifted leather jacket and keys on your way out the door and sent Maria a “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in 10 minutes” text. Luckily for you, the walk to the pub was short, and you arrived only ten minutes later.

When you arrived, you stood outside for a minute trying to calm down a little. Summer was here in all its glory and the speed walking you had done over here had made you a little hot, and the last thing you wanted was to walk into a crowded pub all sweaty.

After you’d calmed down a little you walked into the pub. You looked around a little before you caught Maria waving at you from one on the tables by the windows. You gave her a short wave and made your way over to their table.

“Hi, you made it,” Maria stood up from her seat and gave you a short hug.

“Yeah, you know I couldn’t turn down Matt buying drinks.” you said. Matt, Maria, and your friend Kelly had squeezed into a booth.

You gave both Matt and Kelly a hug hello before sitting down on the chair across from them with your back to the entrance. “Here–” Maria pushed a pint over to you, “hope it’s okay that we started without you”.

You took the beer, “No worries” you assured her while taking a sip.

You had met Maria the first day of uni. You were both in the same course and when you’d met, you’d instantly clicked. You’d been super nervous that first day of uni, not knowing anyone there, and afraid of not finding anyone to talk to. You and your old friends from school (all two of them, or three, but we don’t talk about the third) had gotten into different universities, quickly loosing contact with each other. The first time you had talked to Maria were at an information meeting. That’s when you found out you both had all the same classes, and the nervousness you’d felt brewing in your tummy, had flown out the window, and Maria quickly became your best friend and roommate.

Maria was more outgoing than you. You two were probably the prime example of an extrovert taking an introvert under their wing. Her friendship circle was huge. She knew everyone on campus, and which courses they took. How she knew all those people, with the amount of time she’d spent with you, you didn’t know.

The second year of uni she met Matt, her boyfriend. He was an architect student and was two years older than you. He’d been the one to introduce you to Jasper. They were childhood friends and roommates. You used to joke about how Matt and Maria were the perfect couple. Matt could design the houses, while Maria could design the interior. It didn’t end up like that though. When you graduated, you’d gotten a job at the same architectural firm as Matt. There was an open slot for Maria too, but she’d gotten another job offer at another architectural firm. After, they both agreed it was for the best. They didn’t want to mix work and play.

It was at work you’d met Kelly. She had worked there for two years and had gotten the task of training you and showing you the ropes. It turned out that you both had a lot in common and worked extremely well together. You now considered her your work best friend.

“So, how’s the moving going?” Kelly asked you.

“Oh, you know slow,” you chuckled, “these two helped me move all my boxes today–” you pointed at Matt and Maria, “so, I guess that’s progress. But I think I’ll be refurbishing, unpacking boxes, and decorating, for the majority of my summer holiday,” you sighed, “no beach days for me this summer I’m afraid.”

Matt, Maria, and Kelly laughed at that. “You can still come with us to Greece, you know,” Maria posed.

You just shook your head, “I’m not third wheeling your romantic summer holiday just because you feel sorry for me. You should go and have a wonderful time together– have sex on the beach or something.” you said with a cheeky grin. Maria rolled her eyes but chuckled at your words.

The rest of your night you talked about everything and nothing. More about your move and your new flat, a little bit about work and about how much Matt and Maria looked forward to their holiday.

When all four of you had finished your second drink you offered to buy a third round. Matt and Maria both said yes and thanked you, but Kelly said she should head home. You followed her to the door where you gave her a goodbye hug.

“I guess I won’t see you for a few weeks then,” you said, “you’re going to visit you parents, right?”

Kelly nodded, “Yes, I haven’t seen them since Christmas and promised I would stay for a few weeks this summer.”

You gave her another hug. “I’ll see you when you get back, then. Hopefully I’ll be settled into my new flat by then and we can drink wine on my new balcony.” Kelly smiled at that and said her goodbyes before she headed out into the summer night.

After saying goodbye to Kelly, you headed over to the bar. “Three pints, please?” you said after you caught the bartender’s attention.

“Sure thing, love.” he said and started filling up the pint glasses. You fished your wallet from your bag and asked, “How much?”

“It’s already paid for.” he answered.

Already paid for? You gave the bartender a confused look. You really weren’t in the mood to turn down some poor bloke tonight. The bartender must have seen the gears turning in your head and pointed over to a table near the back of the bar.

“That bloke over there said he’d pay for all the drinks you ordered tonight.” he said while putting down the third and last pint. Even more confused you turned around and looked over to the table he pointed towards.

You couldn’t see who’d paid for your drinks at first until someone turned their head and two familiar brown eyes made eye contact with yours. When you saw him, your heart skipped a beat and the world stood still for a moment. What was he doing here? A big smile blossomed on his face as he got up from his seat and walked over to where you stood by the bar.

“Long time no see, y/n,” he said while flashing you a warm smile.

“Tom?”

next chapter: one

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland series #i don't know where i stand

206 notes · View notes

kingsuckjin · 3 years

Text

Company Policy -JJK

- Pairing: coworker Jungkook x reader

- Genre: established relationship? Sort of

- Rating:18+

- Words: 5k

- Summary: Eight months. Eight months you have regretted breaking off being fuck buddies with your hot coworker. You were so afraid of being caught with him but now that you’ve had time to think, would it really be so bad as long as you could have him all to yourself again? Does he even like you anymore? Has he moved on? All you know is it’s been eight months since you’ve had sex, he’s been all you could think about. Now he’s looking pretty hot at this office party.

- Warnings: pining, explicit content, public sex, they fuck on a coworker’s desk, public sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, heavy dirty talk, brief mention of oral sex and a ton of other past sexual acts like thigh riding and hair pulling, kind of jealous tattooed kook, not voyurism but someone else is there at some point, and finally a dash of fluff.

- A/n: This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click >here< to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! Thank you so incredibly much to the donor @lcksndkys for donating and commissioning this, you are an absolute angel, I hope you know that. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away and wrote a few thousand more words than planned, but you deserve it.

“Morning,”

“Morning.” Was the greeting between you and Jungkook every morning when you stepped into the elevator, coffee in hand.

That was it, that was all you ever said to each other anymore. His smell always floated around the confined space making your mind flashback to what once was before you quickly pushed it away from your brain.

Neither of you ever said anything about it, it was like it had never even happened and sometimes you wonder if it even had or if your brain had made up everything that had happened eight months ago from your frequent dirty thoughts of your coworker. It felt like a lifetime ago. The familiarity of him, his smell, his smile, his voice along with the cold distance, avoidance to even look at you, and the constant wonder of him having someone else made you a little sick at your stomach.

You had decided to break things off… as if either of you were any more than fuck buddies. You knew that if anyone at work had ever found out about the two of you, you’d most likely both be fired. No banging other employees was a pretty strict policy there and you remembered the two nice ladies that were fired last year for it, you remembered it because your boss had made such an example of it.

You had been more than paranoid when you and Jungkook were boning for a whole month, you both had been so secretive even going as far as to have each other park down the street from your houses when the other came over. It didn’t help that you lived with your sister and didn’t want her to know you were sneaking someone in the house and screwing them. It also didn’t help that his roommate worked there too and didn’t get along at times. It didn’t seem like all the effort to sneak around was worth it at the time, but now you felt like you had a mistake.

As you took your seat behind the reception desk and began to put away your things for the morning, you just kept stealing glimpses of him doing the same at his cubicle. Every morning he would put his black messenger bag under his desk, turn on his computer, and roll the sleeves of his white button-up shirt up to reveal one very tattooed arm. His wavy hair was usually put back into a half ponytail for professionalism and probably so he could see, but there were always strands that managed to escape his hair elastic throughout the day. It was painful mentally at times having a view of him but trying not to look, it was painful knowing he wouldn’t look back at you anymore. You could still feel what it was like when he had glanced at you and smiled at you, your heart sped up at just the thought.

“Ugh why are you always here so early, you leave before I even wake up.” his roommate,Jimin, had walked in, looking great as usual but a bit tired in the face. He was lingering around Jungkook’s desk with his things still in hand.

“I like to be prepared, unlike you.” Jungkook joked back with a smile but you knew it was just more than a joke, Jungkook really didn't care for Jimin, he was a bit too spiteful towards him sometimes.

He had always come in early, you both were typically the first ones here besides the janitor. You had to be, your boss liked you here nice and early to greet everyone as they walked in.

“You coming to the thing tonight? The boss is letting us have booze.” Jimin asked him.

You felt like you really shouldn’t be paying attention to the conversation so you went back to sipping your coffee and getting ready to start the day.

“Hey.”

It nearly scared you to death as you rummaged through your bag under the desk for your chapstick. Your body jolted up to see Jimin leaning one arm on the reception counter.

“What?” you asked in confusion, wondering what he was now doing hanging around you with such a sly smirk.

“Well good morning to you too. Are you going to the party tonight? Boss is having a thing to celebrate meeting our yearly product sales goal.”

“I… haven’t thought about it, why?” you were honest, it didn’t mean anything to you.

“I know we have this policy, but you should think about going with me.” he gave you a wink that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “We could come here and have a few drinks and a good time, then we could go back to my place and-”

“How about we don’t? We could just not do that.” you gave him a very fake smile.

Sudden loud coughing erupted through the room making you both look over at the source.

Jungkook was doubled over with his coffee still in his hand.

“You good?” Jimin asked him casually and Jungkook gave a thumbs up to show he was fine, even though his big eyes were slightly teary before holding up his coffee cup to signify he had strangled on his coffee.

“Anyway, if you’re worried about someone saying something about us, you could just come separately and we could just see what happens…”

“I’m not worried because there is no us, Jimin. I’ll come, but let’s not see what happens, and let’s not even speak.”

“Your loss. At least I’ll have Jungkook there with me.” Jimin responded along with a shrug to your savage words before walking away.

You looked over to Jungkook to make sure he hadn’t died because he was no longer choking, you just wanted to make sure he was still breathing but your eyes were met with his. He was giving you this gaze before he raised his eyebrows at you with a slight momentary smirk, it all only lasted less than a split second before he adjusted his black tie and turned back around to face his desk.

How could he be so casual with a look like that at you? How could he be so casual with everything that had happened between you? You had no idea what that look was about but it had your brain so frazzled. It could’ve been nothing, but it was the most interaction you’ve had with him in so long, all it had done was remind you how starved for him you were.

You looked down at your desk feeling your face get a little warm.

Images of that very shirt he was wearing right now, being unbuttoned rapidly with those tattooed fingers in some dark, sketchy hotel room ran through your mind.

“I wish you knew how much I’d go through to be this close to you, to be inside of you.” The memory of his words and hushed voice into your skin gave you goosebumps.

The same man who had said that now sat right over there, not even having tried to flirt with you in the past eight months as you sat here and wondered why you do this to yourself.

Did he still feel that way or had he just meant it at the moment? There were plenty at the moment things that he had said that would flood into your mind just to hurt you when you saw him.

You glanced at him throughout the day as you often did.

You avoided each other on your lunch break, stepping around each other to get to the vending machines in the break room.

You ate at your desk alone while he ate with Jimin in the break room.

Things were the same as they had been, the look he had given you earlier meant nothing, maybe nothing that had happened in the past meant nothing to him too.

Maybe it was all just fun like you both had planned for it to be, if so, why were you still so stuck on it? Why were you stuck on him? You told yourself it was just because he was attractive, the most gorgeous man in the office, but there were just these little things about him you couldn’t get over. The way he stretched and grunted in the morning, you knew the way he liked his coffee, you knew his parents’ names. You had both shared so much of your lives for an entire month almost constantly until you ripped it away from yourself so stupidly. You had both agreed to delete each other’s numbers, but the truth was, you still kept his name in your phone with little hearts by his name. You needed this to end, you needed to stop being so hung up on him because he wasn’t with you. You decided to go to this thing tonight and at least hope for some answers, if you failed to get any you would do your best to stop thinking about him.

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

You had talked yourself out of this more than five times already, but you had gotten dressed and ready and made the drive over.

You now sat in the office parking lot just picking lint off of your black dress, not looking forward to how awkward this might be. In your years of working there, you had mostly just kept to yourself… until the thing with Jungkook happened.

“Are you nervous? You look nervous” he gave you a little smile from across the table from the coffee shop. He had asked you to get coffee after work and he could see right through you

“A little.” You had admitted.

“Don’t be shy, it’s just me. It’s just Jungkook, we work together every day.”

“Don’t be nervous.” You found yourself saying out loud to yourself as you gazed out your windshield at the building. “I shouldn’t be. I work with him every day and nothings going to happen anyway.” You hurt yourself a little with the last part. You put a lot more care into how you looked tonight than you wanted to admit.

“It’s just a stupid office party,” you grumbled to yourself before unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car, if it was horrible or boring then you could just go home.

-----

You didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this. You had followed the signs to the floor that had held a large meeting room, but it didn’t look like a meeting room now.

It was just a room full of people with a snack table and alcohol. The room was dimmed but there were some cheap party effects lighting things happening. People were laughing and talking over some pop music that wasn’t eardrum-bustlingly loud but you still had to strain to hear over. You spotted a lot of coworkers you saw every day, more that you didn’t know from different departments though. You kind of just went and stood by a wall with your eyes searching faces, not stopping too long on any just in case they might think you were staring at them. Before you had left you wondered if you had been too dressed up, but now you were glad for your little black dress as you saw what the others were wearing. Everyone looked so nice and not at all what you were used to them wearing.

While your eyes were going over who was talking to who, you found him.

In the corner of the room on the opposite end, talking to some girl you had only seen a handful of times. She was touching her hair and smiling at him. He looked so dressed down in his ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt. His tattoos were freed as you had always liked seeing and his hair wasn’t being held back. You had seen him like this multiple times, but had anyone else? He had always looked so good like this, so himself.

Just seeing his hair down reminded you of all the times you had grabbed at it while moaning his name. Seeing him in those black ripped jeans reminded you of all the times he has made you ride his chiseled, hard thighs until you came multiple times.

You felt like you had been kicked in the heart as your brain went back to the present moment and saw her placing a hand on his shoulder.

He laughed at something she had said but took a step back out of her grasp smoothly before giving her a small wave. A few more words were exchanged before she apprehensively walked away from him, heaving him alone to stand at the wall on the other side of the room.

Your eyes darted away from him and over to the snack and drink table, you weren’t planning on getting any, but you wanted to make it look that way.

You felt nervous, he looked good and at least one other person had noticed. You told yourself that the lady who had just spoken to him didn’t know him as you did, she probably just saw a hot guy dressed in black with tattoos… just like you had when you both had started whatever happened. He was more than all of that, to you especially now after you had a lot of time to think about it all.

Although you didn’t want your eyes to, they had darted to him for a split second to see he had his phone out… until he looked up from it at you.

He had seen you, he had seen you looking at him from across the room, but he didn’t react. Instead, his eyes went back down to his phone, and yours went back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your bag and you decided to fish it out thinking it could help you look busy.

“Hey, it’s Jungkook. I see you :)”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your mouth as you read the text.

He hadn’t deleted your number just like you hadn’t his.

You felt his eyes watching you but you didn’t look up. He was waiting for your reply, but you just stood there dumbfounded that he had just sent you a text from across the room.

“I know.” you had nervously typed different versions of this reply over and over only to erase each time before settling on the most simple reply.

“You look good.” it had taken him no time to reply in comparison to you. You stood there in shock and lost as to what to say to him. You were taking too long because he sent a second text.

“I know that dress. I remember it.”

You had been hoping he would. You had worn this dress on the first night you both had ever done anything. You made out in his car after your coffee date. He had just kept telling you how pretty you looked even with his hand in your underwear. It was hard to resist him from even the first date, you had no idea how you had made it eight months now.

“You look nice too, you always have.” You typed and sent it quickly before you could change your mind.

You watched him run his inked fingers through his hair as he read the text. You could swear you saw a flash of a smile on his face before his thumbs went to work on his phone.

“I miss you.” Popped up on your screen.

Part of you felt like crying a little. You felt his eyes on you once again and you looked up away from your phone to see that your feeling had been correct. You were sure your mouth was open as you locked eyes from across the room. Your phone vibrated again in your hand.

“We should talk.”

“Hey, gorgeous!” Jimin stepped in front of you making you lock your phone. “I know you said let’s not talk but-“

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“How could I not? You’re the prettiest one here.” He smirked but you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.

“Oh hey! I’ve been looking for you!” Jungkook now walked up with a smile at you. “You found her for me and didn’t even know I was looking, thanks, man.” Jungkook seemed to be thanking an equally confused as you Jimin.

“Sorry to bother you about work stuff at a party, but I forgot to earlier. I need the contact info to a client I’ve been working on to sell more products to. It’s wild, it’s like I went to the bathroom one day and the info to this big buyer just kinda… disappeared I guess. So weird, almost like someone has it out for me.” Jungkook gave the fakest joking laugh you had ever seen and Jimin looked a bit wide-eyed. “Anyway, You’re the receptionist so I know you have the contact info for everyone anyway so I was wondering if you could maybe help me out and get it for me? It’s kind of really important and I need it ASAP. Already asked the boss and he said it was cool.”

Jimin had just kind of slinked off silently, but you knew what Jungkook was doing.

“Yeah, Uh of course.” You nodded.

He tilted his head in the direction of the door before you followed him out.

He led you towards the elevator in absolute silence and even as he pushed the button for the floor you both worked on he said nothing.

You were beginning to think he was wanting your help. And then you thought about it more in the silent ride and you felt so stupid. Of course he was wanting your help, he had never said he actually didn’t, not even when Jimin had walked away.

“I can’t believe that asshole sabotaged me like that. My roommate sabotaged my sale.” He mumbled before scoffing as the elevator door opened.

“I-I’ll help.” You said but he passed right by your desk.

“I’m glad you said that.” He replied as he walked over to Jimin’s cubicle.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked.

“Depends…” he raised an eyebrow as he looked back at you. “What do you want me to do?”

You swallowed the lump of nervousness in your throat to speak as you looked into his mischievous-looking dark eyes.

“Whatever you want I guess.”

He lifted you in almost an instant and sat you on Jimin’s desk.

“You know he’s always liked you, right? He would tell on us if he ever found out. You were willing to risk it, right here right now?” He dared.

Instead of speaking you grabbed a fist full of his t-shirt and tugged him down until his lips met yours.

God did you want it. You have wanted for eight long months. You were willing to risk everything after so long without his lips on yours.

You were still nervous but his kiss brought it all back for you and how natural it felt.

“Fuck me.” You pleaded against his lips.

“You need it? Tell me you need it.” His lips moved to your neck as he ran a hand through the back of your hair.

“Ah, fuck I need it. I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” It slipped out of your mouth and got a second your body went rigid.

“Me neither.” He nipped at your neck.

The second thing he had done tonight that had stunned you.

“Wait.” You stopped him and he backed up to look at you.

“I missed you too. Not just… not just this, I missed you. I don’t know if you feel the same but-“

“What did you think I meant by I missed you? I didn’t just mean the sex or your body. I meant you as a person.”

“I-why didn’t you just say?” You wondered out loud.

He dropped to the floor on his knees between your legs.

“Cause you dumped me.” He let out a snort “you told me to delete your number, which surprise, I didn’t. You wouldn’t look at me. Plus this went two ways you know. You didn’t contact me either.” He stated as he looked up at you while ghosting his fingers over the skin of your thighs as he spoke.

“I dumped you?” You were surprised by this news. You know neither of you had had the relationship talk before.

“I mean, I like to think we were together.”

“Then we should be again,” you decided. You were tired of wanting him and not having him and something told you that he felt the same.

“I think so too,” he whispered, inching his lips closer and closer to yours before smashing into them.

His hands squeezed at the meat of your thighs before trailing them up the sides, up under your skirt, and hooking them in your panties. Your tongues whipped together in each other’s mouths. You managed to move so that he could get your panties down, but he only pulled them to your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, so close you thought you might fall off if he wasn’t right there between your legs.

His fingers now slowly ran from your inner thighs to your folds. As soon as he touched you, you unlocked your lips from his and let out a shaky breathed whine.

“I can tell you missed me. You're so wet for me,” he whispered so quietly just for you to hear even though no one else was in the room.

You did your best to stay quiet as his fingers teasingly and slowly ran over your clit and back down to your cunt.

He lifted his slick fingers to his mouth and you watched with a slightly open mouth as he let them slide past his lips and then out of his mouth altogether, coming out more glossy from his spit.

“I missed the way you taste”

His even more wet fingers that now teased at your pussy were making you want to grab his hand and force it to do something more. You were practically shaking under even the slightest of his touches. You were nervous for someone to walk in at any given moment and all he was doing was drawing things out and letting his fingers kill precious time playing in your folds.

“I'd love to make you cum right now with my mouth” he pressed a kiss onto your neck where his face had been camping out while his fingers tortured you. “But I know how that makes you scream and we have to be very…” another kiss to your neck “very” his fingers finally slowly slipped into your cunt “very quiet.” his whispers tapered off to quieter and quieter, so much so that your shaking breaths felt loud between the both of you.

You were doing your best not to break out into full-blown moans so that maybe if someone walked in you could play it off as just talking or something else, as long as no one heard your moans on the way up the both of you could have time to look normal.

His fingers curled inside of you with his palm grinding down onto your clit slowly.

“Oh God.” you breathed not knowing how you were supposed to survive this. He was all you wanted for months upon months and now that you had him here, tattooed hand knuckle deep in your pussy, his lips on your skin saying nothing but filth, you felt like you couldn't even let go as much as you wanted to, but you were trying.

His hand sped up its movements as you could feel how hard he was now in his jeans against the inside of your thigh.

Your lips squeezed together but it couldn’t stop the small whimpers he forced out of you. You could hear him breathing in your ear along with the wet sounds of your pussy. You were close but so scared. Doing this out in the open was such a thrill but it also made you paranoid.

“Cum for me. I hear the way you’re whining, you’re so close I know it. Just cum for me. Cum around my fingers, no one will know.”

You couldn’t stop it now.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt and forced his chest harder against yours, you wanted him closer, impossibly close as you came undone, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as each wave of pleasure pulsed through your body.

He let out a little moan at the sound and feel of you coming.

“I missed that too.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.

He reached between you and you felt him quickly yet nervously fiddling with his button and zipper with his hand that wasn’t soaked in your wetness.

He made a show about taking his thick, veiny cock out of his pants and rubbing your juices from his hand over it.

In seconds he was back in your ear.

“Can I fuck your brains out?” The whisper was soft, his voice was sweet but the words themselves were as hard as his dick he still stroked in his hand.

“You're always allowed brains out.” You whispered back “just do it.”

You felt his head run over your folds teasingly as he continued to play with you and himself.

“Do you still think about me fucking your brains out?” He asked. You could hear how much wetness had spread from you to his cock with each pump of his hand.

“Every time I need to get off.” You admitted. “So give it to me so I don’t have to keep wishing anymore.”

He pushed into you slowly, letting out a deep sigh and throwing his head back for a moment so you could see his perfectly sculpted throat.

You missed how full he made you feel while he was inside of you.

He pulled out almost entirely, the head of his cock was the only thing left inside of you, pushing on your g-spot before the thrust back in hard. This was the way he fucked, pulling out almost entirely so his head hit where you needed it. You had experienced guys that just flopped around, but he knew you, he knew your body, he paid attention, he had a very special handcrafted way to get you off over and over until you were shaking.

One of his hands grabbed your hip while the other went to your clit to play with using his thumb.

“You miss this, baby?” You miss my dick between your legs?” His lips brushed with your parted and panting ones as he spoke.

You let out a whimper as you focused on your second orgasm, his hips were not letting up and neither was his lips that whispered pure filth.

“Want me to cum inside of you, make you not want to forget me and who you belong to? Right here on Jimin's desk.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and you clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you were once again thrown into pure pleasure.

You couldn’t help it this time. The way he touched you, the way he felt inside of you, his grunts and words were all too much.

“Please, fucking cum inside of me, I want it all fuck you feel so good.” You cried out way too loudly.

“Oh my god, fuck.” He breathed through pants as his hips pounded into yours. You felt him release inside of you. Your walls clenched around him upon hearing his long deep guttural moan.

“I haven’t cum like that in…” he panted before letting out a little chortle of laughter “well in eight months.”

“So,” there was a loud voice in the room making your heads turn and your stomach’s sink. “You fucked on my desk.” Jimin looked beyond angry as he sat in an office chair across the room with his phone in his hand, pointing it at the both of you. You had no idea when or how he had come in, but you knew you were both beyond physically fucked.

Jungkook had already scrambled to pull out of you and zip his pants back up as you jumped off the desk, pulled your underwear up, and smoothed out your dress.

“That's fine, I have you both on video. I really liked you y/n. Jungkook, Looks like I’m moving out.” he stood from the chair and headed towards the direction of the elevator. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to speak to our boss about this. He probably won't be too happy to see you two are breaking company policy.”

“Fuck company policy and fuck you! You were an awful friend, roommate and you've always been jealous of me!” Jungkook yelled at him back.

“Not anymore, jobless.” Jimin turned back to give Jungkook a smirk before he stepped into the elevator.

With that, you were both just left there.

“I… I am so so sorry…” Jungkook began apologetically and just as stunned as you were.

“Don’t be, we’re too good for this job anyway, we can find new ones. It looks like you need a new roommate now though.”

You watched his face as a small smile grew on it.

“Yeah, looking for someone prettier and nicer, maybe someone willing to be my girlfriend? I don't know though, I don’t want to make too many demands.”

“Well I could meet all of those demands.” you played along. “We won't have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yes, please, yes. I uh- don't want to ruin the cute moment, but I think we should get out of here before Jimin brings the boss up.”

“Oh fuck, right. Uhh, we should probably just never come back too. Let’s just grab our stuff from our desks and make a run for it.”

“Let's go. You know, this is simultaneously the best, worst, most exciting, and most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me,” he said and you couldn't help but laugh and agree.

Maybe the both of you had made a big mistake, but perhaps there could be good that came from it. You had him back and honestly you didn’t feel too bad about trading your dumb job with its dumb company policy for him.

1K notes · View notes

babiesdreams · 3 years

Note

Hiiii, what about smut with camboy!johnny and camgirl!reader having fun making money haha? I'm bored at work😶

Thank uuuu, you're sweet🥰

Ofc baby

Cam boy Seo Johnjun +18

You turn the cam on and get ready for your usual show. It was never easy to read all the thirsty comments from men, usually really disgusting old men, but at this point it was your money source and you had fun doing it, most of the time. And this new follower seemed, a little but interesting for your eyes.

“Js_95 just donated 100$ Thank you sososo much” You say, as your lovense starts reacting to the donation. The intense and constant vibrations make you moan embarrasingly loud. After a few more donations you end up cumming all over your bedsheets, closing the live stream right after.

Your curiosity makes you want to dig on this new follower and try to figure out how he could expend so much money every day. You click on his profile, only to find out he was actually live streaming as well. Just like you he was a cam boy.

You look closely at his perfect looking body, along with his perfect looking face as he furrows his brows, already close to cumming. And just in that moment, he says “And that’s it for today, see you tomorrow” he gives a wink to the cam and stops the live stream right away.

You were confused, why wasn’t he showing everything? That could give him more money, and how much money was he getting to be able to spend so much on you???

You keep looking a his profile and notice there’s a feature to send dms to other streamers so you decide to send him a plain “Hi” to see if he would answer. But as soon as you send it, all you can think about is how basic it sounded and how ridiculous it may be. You try to figure out if you can delete messages, but before you could even think about it, he replies with a smooth “Hey” making your heart race for some reason.

“I saw you were a big fan of mine and thought we could talk for a bit” You text, as calmed as you can be. “Yeah, I enjoy your shows, but I’ve seen you’ve also watched mine. I think we could hang out someday and make a collab you know?” You blink, trying to concentrate before you read that text again, and again, and again.

“A...collab?” You ask him confused. “Yeah, I’m sure you’ve noticed couples get the most attention over here, so we could, someday... you know. And we simply split the money we earn in between us” You don’t understand what this guy is about, but he kinda looks fine as hell and you’d have fun with his plan.

“Fine” You reply, trying to process everything that just happened.

A long week passes by and all you can think about is that collab. What if he wasn’t who you thought he was? What if he lied to you about something? What if he was a really bad guy trying to get you to some dangerous situation? What if he just wanted to use you and don’t even split the money?

There were a lot of things to worry about. You didn’t even knew his real name. Well, tecnically he didn’t know yours either so... It was kind of the same situation for both of you. You could think about a million reasons he could be worried about as well. Yet he seemed so chill and calmed... And he never stopped donating so... It wasn’t a money thing.

It was finally the day, he was supposed to come over to your house since you both agreed that the live was gonna be from your account. The doorbell rings, making your chest go as fast as it’s ever gotten. You open the door slowly, still scared of the possible outcome for the date, if it could ever be called that.

He looks exactly the same that his live streams, if anything a little bit more shy. You blink, to make sure it’s real and let him in. After a long talk about what you both like and dislike during sex, you start talking about this and that, getting to know each other and killing time until your show.

“It’s already 7pm, we better prepare everything” You say getting up from your couch and walking towards your bedroom. You hear how the boy follows your steps. He stares at you while you get the cam on place and a whole lot of different toys on your bed. “You really are prepared aren’t you?” He says getting closer to the bed.

“Well yeah, this is my job big boy” You look at him with a cheesy expression, but it sweetens as soon as you see his smile. “Should we start?” You ask him and he nods, before sitting next to you. The live starts and you both start explaining how the different donations work, each of them meaning a different interaction between you.

Everything stays chill for the first donations, as they ae simple challenges such as kiss for 1 minute, but with time it gets more intense and heated. You were completely naked, and he was fingering you, for the third time since you started the live stream. Donations were constantly coming and eventually, one of them was about him entering you.

You’ve been craving for his dick for a long while by now, and the way he stretches your wet walls is even better than expected. You don’t even care about the live anymore, moaning loudly at every thrust from the boy. He notices how you’re enjoying it way too much and he stops the live right away, moving into a more comfortable position to keep going.

His thrusts change completely, from calmed and controlled to completely heated and all over the place. “I-I’m close..” You moan out and he gets closer to your ear to whisper “Johnny seo” to let you know what name to sream.

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

Masterlist –requests open– How to request? Check out your score

181 notes · View notes

hermitcraftheadcanons · 3 years

Text

Hermitopia AU Conclusion

The last ask has been answered, the masterposts are complete, and (although art, writing, and Discord discussion are still accepted and encouraged) it is finally time to officially wrap up the Hermitopia AU! Because this was such a massive event - and no small thing to moderate - there will be a pause in blog activity for a day or so before the inbox will open for regular headcanons again. I apologize in advance for the wait!

In the mean time, I would just like to say: I am so, so thankful to everyone who participated in the AU. Your ideas and your creativity have made this blog a better place, whether you sent in one headcanon or dozens, and I am constantly in awe of the energy and enthusiasm of this community. Thank you, all of you, for making this universe we’ve created as vast and as interesting as it turned out to be.

Below are a collection of my own ideas, for those of you who like a satisfying (but still not entirely closed-ended) ending. These events take place as many days, months, or years into the future as you need them to make your own ideas work, and none of them are set in stone. You can take all of them, some of them, or none of them as truth if you want to...but either way, it has been an honour to build on a project like this one alongside you all.

And with that...the Hermitopia AU concludes! Finished, or barely begun, like so many good projects are. Have a great day everyone, and happy headcanoning!

- Mod Shade

"People of Hermitopia."

The man on the screen shifts, running a nervous hand across his bald head and squaring his shoulders. The broadcast quality is unstable, but it's more than enough for every citizen in the city to recognize who's speaking.

"This is your Concorp Branch Director, Cub. As I'm sure you are aware, I am the head of Project VEX in this city. You all know the VEX initiative as groundbreaking, life-saving, a shining success and a step towards a new era for humanity...and some of you may even see me as a hero for creating it.”

He closes his eyes, a brief look of pained remorse crossing his face. For a moment, he looks utterly defeated, almost small in the face of his impromptu audience of thousands...but finally, he fixes the camera with a steady gaze once more and begins the great unravelling.

“Maybe it was all those things, in the beginning. Maybe *I* was, once. But today, after far too long, I have some confessions to make...."

- For years, Cub had been desperately scrambling to hold the tatters of his life’s work together. Project VEX had started so well, and he had poured so much of himself into it, that when the failed experiments and rebellions became more and more frequent he was unable to accept a change of course. He covered up the project’s failings to maintain funding and public image, but mostly to maintain his own image to himself - that he was still the hero he’d set out to be and create at the project’s start. However, his denial was wearing on him heavily, and eventually he had a breakdown and decided to go public rather than keep drowning the city in lies.

- This breakdown was prompted by xB, who after his own moral breakthrough, confronted Cub and urged him to stop withholding knowledge and truth. xB also informed Cub of his own unknown truth - that the unintended power of his presence was the thing that was keeping the experiments successful when Cub was around. This was the final straw in breaking through Cub’s denial

- Along with Cub’s broadcasted speech, files were released to the media containing proof against most if not all of Concorp’s falsehoods. Many names were cleared of crimes that had been pinned on them, including Beef, Impulse, Doc, Cleo, and the majority of the other Unrestrained and Unaffiliated former VEX trainees that the company had tried to cast away

- Understandably, it took a very long time for the chaos to die down and all that information to be processed by society and the justice system. It may be years before the community can see some of their heroes in the proper light again, but at least they are now free to begin rebuilding their reputation without being labeled as villains and traitors.

- Those who actually did commit villainous acts are given a fair trial, with consideration for their motives and the new Concorp information as extra evidence

- The VEX program is withdrawn by Cub’s superiors and put under a strict review. It is reborn after a massive restructuring, with a new director, new limitations on what experiments can and cannot be attempted, and a greatly extended screening and training program to reduce the chances of graduates becoming villains. The new project will produce far fewer heroes with much subtler powers at first...but if that is the cost for the safety and stability of the city, then most people would agree that it is a small price to pay.

- Cub is not permitted to work on the new Project VEX in a management role, ever again. It’s a harsh blow for him, to have to watch his dream from the sidelines...but he knows he gave up the right to guide it when he abused the control that it gave him. At least his superiors allowed him something to do while he awaits trial: he is present (although guarded) at every new VEX trainee’s first experiment, lending his power to increase their chances of success.

- Mayor Scar resigned willingly. Nobody had enough evidence to accuse him of anything, and he didn’t plan on giving them a reason to look by trying to stay in office. Instead he chose to make his exit from both Concorp and government matters complete, at last. Or so he thinks. Who knows? Maybe he’ll learn what most of the people he’s helped to manipulate have already found out: that connections and old grudges don’t easily lose their grip.

- Scar is replaced by TFC, voted in by almost unanimous community support and funded by donations from all the people he’s saved over the years

- The greater Convex company offers a choice to the survivors of the old program: Come to work under their new, more honorable system, or take a generously large settlement and be free to build new lives

- Team ZIT declines the job offer, pooling their payment and using it to buy a shiny new base together for their independent hero venture. There are still a handful of real villains to fight, after all, and there are bound to be more once people start successfully copying Concorp technology. Now that Impulse is back at their side, they wouldn’t give up their roles saving the community for anything - but they’re done with being used by some guy behind a desk. From now on, justice and bravery will be their only guides!

- ...justice, bravery, and TFC, that is. He isn’t their boss by any means, but the more experienced hero does drop by often between his mayoral duties to make sure the youngsters stay out of trouble and in one piece.

- The nHo, according to all official records, took their settlements and split up, leaving Hermitopia far behind. However, Team ZIT suspects that the vigilante life hasn’t left them so easily. They’d be the last ones to report the odd sighting of a whipping vine or a distant masked figure, though - unregulated as they are, the nHo’s shady methods for a good cause prove useful from time to time. (And their base has really good tea. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit more than “the occasional sighting”...)

- Ren settles back into his meadow cabin, but after that massive release of info and a long, LONG period of processing, he now has Iskall, Stress, and Cleo as regular visitors. Every morning he wakes up and forgets for a moment that it’s real, that they’re really alive and with him again...but they are, and he is happier than he ever thought he would be again.

- Jevin and Mumbo visit the cabin occasionally. It took a while for Mumbo to get his memory back, but he now remembers all of his friendship with Iskall and Grian, and they come together for fun and shenanigans regularly with the rest of the cabin crew.

- Grian still spends his time looking for his clones, but honestly, he doesn’t mind. The adventure always did hold more meaning than the conclusion for him, and now, he has friends to help out!

- False disappears into thin air to wait out the fallout of Concorp’s information release. She snags herself a quiet job and a small apartment on the outskirts of town, fully intending to return to her mercenary work just as soon as the dust has settled...next week, maybe. Or the week after that. Or maybe, once the garden has been fully planted. She’s really enjoying having time for stuff like that now...but she’ll get back to work, really, she will! Soon.

- Joe and Cleo tearfully reunite through xB, and Joe becomes another frequent visitor to the cabin. Cleo also visits Joe’s base in the time exclusion zone, but she really prefers the cabin. Time skips are disorienting, and they make her want to sneeze.

- Keralis and Void come to an agreement. Xisuma isn’t entirely clear on what that agreement is - something to do with an allowance of cookies from Biffa’s bakery in exchange for not killing anyone - but he’s more than happy to be less sore and tired all the time.

Hermitopia is making progress. Real progress, this time - not just the breaking of humanity’s limitations, but breaking them with true heroic care, with the good of everyone in mind. There are some hurts that will never fully heal, mistakes that can be learned from but not undone, and yet...now there is a path, a way forward. It won’t be easy, but a kind and gentle future waits for them, welcome and well deserved. They will figure it out, together.

And together, they will step forward, into the new world that each of them has helped to create.

#hermitopia au #announcement #sort of #I know this is long; and not all of it is my best work; but I hope you'll find some of it worthy of canon #or at least inspiring to your own personal version of events #both hermitopia masterposts will be added to the masterpost of AUs in the normal pinned post #you'll still be able to access them #most importantly; I hope this event was fun for all of you #that's all there is to it; really. that's the point. :)#again; thank you

82 notes · View notes

pastelpaperplanes · 4 years

Text

I’ve gotten more than a few asks on how I view Cybertronian Reproduction, so I figured why not just make a post to clear up any questions!

I headcanon that Cybertronians can be sparked in several different ways!

note: sparkling, bitlet, and new spark all mean the same thing: a baby transformer! Protoform also means the same, but this term is most often used for the process of Cold Construction (which is discussed below!)

Cold Construction

One way would be through the Allspark exclusively, where of course it alone generates the actual spark of a new born Cybertronian, then later transferred into a pre made adult protoform mold.

This method required virtually no Creator coding, as the Allspark took care of that all on its own. Despite these Cybertronians already being full grown once pieced together in their adult protoformed frame, they still require a mentor or at the very least a guardian during their first few years of life. These were often specially appointed sergeants of the Elite guard who take on this task. Overall, this is the method I would call the ‘Cold Construction’ version of TFA.

After the Allspark fell during the war, this method was lost to Cyberton. The rift caused between the newly named Autobot and Decepticon factions switched the production line from Worker frames, Flight frames and War frames, to exclusively Civilian and Service frames after the Autobots seized the Allspark.

When the Decepticons were driven out of Cybertron, the Cold Construction of ‘Decepticon’ Cybertronians came to a complete stop. When the Allspark was missing after they sent it through the Space Bridge, this half of this CC process was lost until further notice (which was ya know, INDEFINITELY bc it broke)

Creator Harvesting

Another method in which a new spark can be made, is through Creator coding and a pre protoformed frame. I’ve decided to call this process ‘Creator Harvesting’ This was the way Cybertronians we’re reproduced post war.

Even though the Allspark was missing, Cybertron still had their Protoform Forge in operation, so protoforms were of no issue in supply, is was only the coding for the actual spark that was needed. (Yes, this does imply that the Decepticons has absolutely NO access to the Forge or this form of reproduction throughout their exile)

Two bots had to come together under the medical supervision of a ‘Harvester’ to take tendrils of Spark Energy and light to provide the building blocks for the creation of an entirely new spark.

This eligibility process is EXPREMELY long and requires a multitude of interviews and testing before two creators can be approved for a Spark Energy donation. The Elite Regime (which includes all factors of government and enforcement ex: The Guard, The Court, The Ninja Corps.) was extremely tight knit and wanted to ensure blood lines stayed ‘Autobot Pure’ for the creation of their future generations.

Any Cybertronian with a single line of Con coding would be immediately turned away.

These potential Creators could volunteer together, or they can be could be completely randomized, note that these potential Creators turn over their consent for a chosen partner once they’ve been approved. Not every bot could wind up be compatible together.

Volunteers for this process in the creation for new soldiers exclusively were highly rewarded, while Creators who begged for this process so they could have their own sparkling had to jump through massive amounts of legal loop holes to even be considered for this opportunity. Not to mention the cost is nearly unattainable unless you have friends in high places.

Protoforms are sacred, Cyberton couldn’t be giving them out to hopeful Creators when soldiers would always be the better option.

Once two Creators are approved, the medical process of harvesting Spark Energy can begin.

Seeing as this is a completely unnatural way of sparking a bitlet, there is a huge window for error where either of the two Creators could suffer a fracture in their spark chamber, or both could accidentally cause one another to go into Spark Overdrive, then into a blackout if the process turns sideways.

High risk, high reward of course. If the Creators are successful, their harvested energy can be used to warp dozens of new sparks.

Again, these Creators are highly respected and paid HANDSOMELY after a successful harvesting. Plus they’re pampered in Cybertron’s most Elite hospital for months after the event.

This is how all Autobot New Sparks came into creation post-war.

Creator Construction (Carrying)

The last method in which a New Spark can be made is through the ‘Creator Construction’ process, or Carrying! After Cold Construction was out of the picture, this left Carrying and Creator Harvesting the only options for the creation of sparklings.

This method had always existed, but was considered taboo until the highly exclusive Creator Harvesting was modified to be accessible to all hopeful Creators. Carrying is the 2nd most natural way a Cybertronian can produce after the Allspark was destroyed.

Sparking a bot is actually fairly difficult to do. Both sparks must be in sync during a merge, and both must have a healthy frame to even begin to contribute a part of their being to create a whole new Cybertronian (this is why Reiki, the daughter of Ratchet and Drift, was a complete ANOMALY)

A bot can become sparked through the act of merging while interfacing, or a merge soon after interfacing. It doesn’t matter which bot was ‘top or bottom’ because the post-overload harmonized sync of the bot’s sparks allows the conception, not whoever donated transfluid in who.

So YES. If there is a merge during or after interfacing, both bots have an equal chance of carrying. But not both at the same time! This is not possible as there is no way a spark could hold that much energy to spark both bots at the same time.

Carrying is a two bot job. With out a Sire to support the Carrier with frequent merges for both the health of their Mate and the New Spark, there’s absolutely no way the New Spark would make it to term.

The Carrier already has to go through the strain of forging the protoform with their own frame, so the Sire holds the job as the provider for the majority of the Spark Energy that the Carrier and New Spark need in order to survive.

As mentioned in a previous post, this job is precious. It allows the Sire to bond with their Sparkling pre Emergence, as well as provide comfort for to their Mate during their long months of carrying.

This job is also not exclusive to the Sire, a third bot may be allowed into the picture if the Sire is unable to provide the sufficient energy for the Carrier and sparkling.

(These frequent merges don’t contribute to the coding of the spark that’s already in existence, only energy, so the third party bot doesn’t run any risk of tampering with the Sire’s coding within the New Spark)

So yes, Carrying is taboo because of how fragile and needy the process is. The Carrier must keep their frame fully fueled and their environment comfortable in order to have a smooth carriage.

This is why new, healthy Decepticons were not often born during the war. Constant fuel shortages as well as extremely stressful and unstable war ridden environments couldn’t properly support a Carrier. Plus, all the forged medics with the adequate training to aid a Carrier through the process were all secured on Cybertron.

Without a proper medic to support a Carrier through the Spark Descent and the Emergence, Carrier could very easily die.

With no guarantee to access to the Forge anytime soon, this was a risk the Decepticons dared not to take. Building up their soldiers to be faster and stronger seemed like a safer option rather than try and increase their forces through Creator Construction.

The most dangerous points in a carriage is the Spark Descent and the Emergence. The Spark Descent is where the new spark descends from the carrier’s spark chamber to the forge, where it joins with the protoform. The new spark tearing away from the Carrier’s spark must happen quickly and cleanly, or the Carrier’s spark chamber could fracture, causing a flare, and instantly smother the new spark. This split second moment happens no more than a week before the Emergence.

Immediately after this, the protoform and forge begins it’s descent towards the Emergence Channel.

New sparks (no matter which coding they hold, Con or Bot) are extremely small and can often be held in the palms of the Creators post emergence. For lack of a better phrase, yeah,, one size fits all!! This of course isn’t always the case, for example, a mini bot or a mini con with a full sized Decepticon could have an issue with this if their lines of coding matched up to produce a sparkling that large.

Emergence doesn’t hold the risk of being dangerous from the size of the sparkling, the only thing that’s dangerous is the chance of the Forge rupturing from stress induced pressure, leading to internal bleeding which could cause fatal energon loss. Tears in the valve could be fatal if not treated properly post Emergence as well.

Again, high risk and high reward. Sparklings born in this manner are cherished and seen as a tremendous feat of strength from the Creators, was well as beautiful physical embodiment of the both love and harmony formed between two Creators.

In summary: there are several ways a Cybertronian can be born: Cold Construction, Creator Harvesting, and Creator Construction(Carrying)

Cold Construction is no longer possible without the Allspark, it was the safest and most common method of creating Cybertronians.

Creator Harvesting was an extremely exclusive process that was used burning the post war era on Cybertron. The Decepticons had no access to this method. Creator Harvesting is now much safer for both Creators due to reforms made after the fail of the Decepticon Uprising, and the fall of the Elite’s Regime.

Creator Construction is the 2nd safest method of conception after Cold Construction (which no longer exists) but still holds a high risk even without he stress inducing war environment. This is how Cybertron will likely build up their future generations with hopefully both Decepticons and Autobots united once again.

#feel free to ask questions!!! im still figuring this out as i go #transformers #sparklings #cybertronian biology #maccadam #transformers animated #cybertron’s future au

435 notes · View notes

melancholic-pigeon · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday #15

Since Jason's birthday is tomorrow and all, I'm doing something longer as a treat. A triptych, if you will!

Content warnings for child abuse and neglect, alcoholism and food insecurity.

Thalia wakes up, like she usually does, to Jason curled against her with his fingers in his mouth. She can't easily put him in his crib by herself, but her mattress is on the floor and there's nowhere for him to fall, so she can ensure that she's there to hold him whenever he wakes up crying. Her shirt's a little damp, but this time it's just because he's drooling in his sleep. Last night, thankfully, was free from disruptions.

For him, at least.

He's a year old today, and she hasn't seen their mother since two nights ago, slumped on the couch with an empty bottle of vodka on the ground next to her. The door to her room is closed. Whether she's in there sleeping it off or out somewhere getting drunker, Thalia has no idea.

Bitterly, she doesn't care. It's not like their mom cares about them, either.

Jason yawns, his hair sticking up like a cockatoo's feathers. The first eye contact of the morning always leaves him giggling and reaching for her, and the feeling of his small, warm body flopping onto her brings her focus back to where it should be.

"Happy birthday, shrimp."

"Happy," he repeats, nosing at her stomach.

It's up to her, like usual, so she gets him dressed and ready and gives him the last of the cereal to occupy himself while she digs through her closet to find the old coffee can she stashed there.

Every time she thinks she can get away with it, she lifts a bill from their mother's wallet and puts it in the can. Every nickel she finds on the street, every dime she pulls from the couch cushions; it all adds up, a little at a time.

After carefully saving as much as she could for the past few weeks, she's squirreled away enough. She takes out a fistful and stuffs it in her pocket, then re-buries the can under a pile of her laundry.

Today's special, and she'll cover the loss somehow— by sneaking some extra groceries under her coat again, if she has to.

Jason's finished with his breakfast by the time she emerges, sitting patiently and playing with the plastic dish she'd given it to him on. Her sweet baby brother, looking up at her with a smile so sunny you'd think they were living like kings.

Her chest feels tight and her throat's in no better condition. After a deep breath, she reaches down to grab his hands.

"Do you know what birthdays mean?"

He takes a second to think about it as she pulls him to his feet, then shakes his head.

"Birthdays, Jason," she says, grinning— it's harder to dwell when he's holding onto her hand— "mean birthday cake."

The gas station a block away at least has the miniature kind wrapped in cellophane. He won't know the difference, since he hasn't even been introduced to the concept of cake yet, but she'll still have to make it up to him with a real one someday.

—

By the time Jason turns two, Thalia has shoplifting down to an art form.

People are usually too busy fawning over how precious her brother is to pay her much attention, and having Luke along makes it almost easy. Jason adores him, and he's happy to draw focus away from her by translating the toddler babble and proclaiming that they're his favorite babysitting clients, which conveniently explains the lack of adult supervision.

Thanks to him, she's managed to get Jason something a lot better than cake.

She saw it in the window of a toy shop and immediately knew it was perfect, but it cost more than she'd scrounged in the past six months. She'd been resigned to the idea of stealing a brownie instead, and then last night, Luke showed up at her doorstep with it tucked under his arm and his face split into a wicked grin.

She's not sure she wants to know how he managed to smuggle it out without getting caught, but the way Jason lights up when he lays eyes on it, happier than she's ever seen him, is enough to make her ignore the uneasy feeling.

"Puppy!"

She can't help but mirror it back to him, her heart swelling with emotion as he flings his arms around the stuffed animal's neck. It's almost as big as he is.

"That's right. It's a wolf puppy. She's named after a mama wolf called Lupa."

The real Lupa is the matriarch of a pack living at a conservancy in San Diego county. Her likeness is an embodiment of the fiercely protective love Jason should have gotten from his own mother, and which has fallen to Thalia and her limited capabilities instead.

Jason rolls over, still holding tight to his new doll, and lays his head in her lap. If she's coming up short, he certainly hasn't noticed.

"My Lupa?"

He's gently petting the wolf's fur, in a movement that's strikingly similar to how Thalia's petting his hair. She blinks a few times to chase away the burning in her eyes.

"Your Lupa."

She can't give him the childhood that he deserves. It's a struggle to make sure even his most basic needs are met, and some days it feels like the whole world is united against them, but then he hugs her leg or curls up against her shoulder or tells her in that sweet voice love you, Taya—

And everything settles in her chest, refining itself into a white-hot determination.

She's all he has, and the one thing she can make sure he'll never want for is someone who loves him enough to fight for him.

She understands how the real Lupa must feel about her cubs. She knows, with more certainty than she's ever known anything, that if anyone so much as thinks about hurting her little brother— hurting her baby— she'll tear them to shreds with her teeth before they have time to run.

—

Everything is perfect. Thalia's made sure of it.

The party doesn't start for another hour, so she has to keep Jason occupied until then. He thinks she has lunch reservations and they're meeting at her place for coffee first— the second part is true; she has a pot of Kona ready to go as soon as he arrives.

While she's preparing his decoy surprise, the rest of his friends are in Manhattan, helping Percy and Sally get his bash underway. She finds herself quivering with excitement as she puts the last few touches in place.

The doorbell rings and she squeaks, shoving the main item behind a bookshelf before racing to answer the door.

"Happy birthday, shrimp." She stands up on her tiptoes and hugs him around the neck. "I have something for you."

Jason beams, pink, and squeezes her back.

"I told you last year that you don't have to get me anything. Your company is a gift in and of itself."

"Ha ha," she counters dryly, knowing he can hear her getting a little emotional at the sincerity on his face. "Very funny. Like I'm not going to try to make up for the ten of them that I missed."

She takes hold of his arm and pulls him into the apartment, past the kitchen to the hall that leads to her bedroom. She opens the door beside it, the one that used to be her study.

Jason's eyes go wide.

The desk is still there, but the chair is new, much larger than the one she used. The bookcase is the same, too, but she's put her video games in a box in her bedroom and filled the shelves with fresh sketchbooks and paints and pencils instead. The bed is new too, as well as the nightstand and the dresser.

Sally stripped and varnished all of the wood, and built a set of floating shelves that are currently storing a series of framed photos from Annabeth's camera reel. Piper decided on the paint colors— sky blue with a deep purple accent on the wall that slants to the ceiling. Leo took care of borrowing Jason's favorite sketches to make the framed prints above his bed, by pretending he was doing a photography project with them.

(He'd burst into laughter when she gave him Jason's baby drawings to frame too, and she'd almost punched him in the mouth— but then she'd noticed his voice was a little tight when he told her the crayon scribbles looked just like her.)

"Wow," Jason breathes, staring around the room as though he doesn't know where to land his focus. "This— is all of this for me?"

"Anytime you need an escape, you've got one. Think of it as your safe house. And there's one more thing."

Reluctantly, she steps away and retrieves what she hid earlier.

Jason's mouth drops.

"Lupa," he whispers, raising his hand. He stops himself halfway through reaching over, like he doesn't know if he should. "How did you find another one? I thought they were a limited run."

Thalia takes his hand, wrapping his fingers around the new doll's front leg.

"I traded twenty-seven ultra-rare mint-condition beanie babies for her with a collector in Montana."

"Do I want to know how you got twenty-seven ultra-rare mint-condition beanie babies?"

"It's not as sordid as you're thinking, I just spent a lot of time on Ebay."

Jason laughs, shaky, and sits down on his new mattress. He's probably not even conscious of the way he's running his thumb over Lupa's paw, exactly the way he did the first time.

He said that donating the original to charity was his idea, but Thalia has a suspicion he was pushed into it with a healthy dose of shaming and manipulation, and the look on his face— shocked, bright-eyed, a little scared like he thinks she'll disappear if he blinks— pretty much confirms it.

Thalia sits beside him and wraps an arm around his back. He slides down along the mattress until he's lying with his head in her lap.

"My Lupa," he says quietly, and she knows he remembers doing it before.

"Your Lupa," she chokes back. "For real, this time. Nobody's going to take her away from you, ever again."

It's different now, because Lupa is about the size of a two year old child, and Jason very much no longer is. She fits in the crook of his elbow, and he couldn't wrap his arms and legs around her if he tried.

Thalia tries not to think about all the nights between then and now that he's needed her, and didn't have her.

He smiles, wiser than his fifteen years.

(He's fifteen years old. God. She missed so much— thirteen months isn't long enough to even really begin to catch up.)

"I know they won't," he tells her. "You won't let them."

She's never going to get those years back. The only thing she can do is make sure she appreciates what she has now.

"I believe you would."

"I'll bite anyone who tries," she whispers back, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He bursts into laughter, reaching up to ruffle her hair like she used to do to him.

@perseusjackson-jasongrace @msdrpreist I still feel self-conscious about pinging people tell me if you'd prefer I didn't difjvhg

#thundersibs are go #wip wednesday #let jason grace be cuddly dammit #q #Jason Grace Birthday Spam #i wrote this #stellarverse

15 notes · View notes

lily-onher-grave · 4 years

Text

prompt for @thatwickedozian and Glo--thank you both so much for your donation!

also from Learn Me Right, senior year

---

Elphaba shut the car door behind her and instinctively went to stuff her hands in her pockets. Instead of the warm, bunched up material of her letter jacket, however, her fingers slid against the smooth outside of her gray tuxedo. Unable to fidget that way, she shifted her weight and kicked her foot, scuffing her toe a bit against the gravel.

She winced, remembering Nanny digging out the shoe polish just last night, warning her to be careful with these. She shook her head and leaned against the car, bringing her foot up to rub out the mark she’d just made.

A giggle came from the other side of the car. Elphaba dropped her foot and looked over. Glinda was there, leaning against the closed driver side door, eyes sparkling at her. Elphaba flattened her palms against her jacket and let out a breath. She started making her way toward Glinda, glancing around for any sign of Crope or Boq’s cars. But the parking lot was already mostly full, making them hard to find.

The parking lot was already mostly empty. A few clusters of people dotted the area, either parting ways or lingering at each other’s vehicles. For the most part, though, everyone had scattered for the afternoon, making it easy for her eyes to find her own truck and—sitting on the lowered tailgate—Glinda.

Even in the cold, cloudy afternoon, she seemed to shine. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, with little wisps falling out around her ears. She wore one of Elphaba’s dark flannels and Elphaba’s class ring around her neck. Her feet dangled from the truck bed, kicking back and forth in excitement when she saw Elphaba coming.

But what really caught Elphaba’s attention was the single red rose that she held in her hands. Glinda twisted the stem between her fingers, letting it twirl back and forth as Elphaba approached.

Looking back, it was obvious. This is why Crope and Tibbett disappeared halfway through study hall, and why Boq was squeaking and stammering as he tried to talk to her at her locker, and why Fiyero had given her a smug smile before nudging her down the hall and saying, “Just go outside, Elphie.”

Elphaba reached her truck and looked up at Glinda.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Elphie.”

“It’s weird. I thought I was going to be the one to do this.”

Glinda smiled sweetly. “You were taking too long.”

“Prom is still two months away!”

“Besides,” Glinda went on, ignoring that, “you asked last year, so it’s my turn anyway.”

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “Well? Ask away, then.”

Glinda pushed herself off the truck bed, practically landing in her arms.

“Elphaba?” She stepped even closer, and Elphaba felt heat creep up her neck and across her cheeks as their bodies pressed together. “Will you go to prom with me?”

As she asked, Glinda grabbed Elphaba’s hand and slipped the rose into it. She pressed Elphaba’s fingers around the stem, then lifted her hand so she could kiss her knuckles.

It took Elphaba a moment to find her voice. Once she did, she breathed out, “You know I’m not really a flower kind of girl.”

“It’s fake.”

Elphaba looked down at the rose. She ran the thumb of her free hand along a petal. So it was.

“So?” Glinda asked.

“So?” Glinda asked, reaching for her hand. “Are you ready?”

“What happens if I say no?”

“We’re already late, you know.”

Elphaba grinned. “Are you worried they’re gonna think we stopped to make out?”

“Well. That is what we did.”

“Oh. Right.” She squeezed Glinda’s fingers, pulling her a little closer. A blush spread across Glinda’s cheeks, making both of them smile wider.

“There you two are!”

They jumped and looked over. Crope was a few parking spaces away, arms crossed over his chest. He tapped his foot against the ground and frowned. “You’re late.”

“Isn’t that the fashionable thing to do?” Elphaba asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You took a wrong turn.”

“Sorry, we took a wrong turn,” Glinda said, dropping into the booth opposite Crope and Tibbett.

“Riiiiiight.” Crope narrowed his eyes at her and Elphaba. Beside him, Tibbett just grinned.

Glinda leaned into Elphaba’s side, giving them her best wide-eyed, innocent stare.

“Don’t worry,” said Tibbett. “We already ordered your usual.”

“With fries?” Glinda asked.

“Of course.”

“I love you, Tibbs.”

“Sorry, darling. I’m happily taken.”

Crope perked up. “Speaking of! I believe we owe you money.”

“It’s really alright, Crope—”

“Nope! You dealt with Morrible. The least we can do is pay you back.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

Glinda shook her head, but she reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. From it she retrieved a slip of thick, slightly glittery paper. As Crope slid a couple bills across the table, Glinda handed the paper to him. Elphaba caught a glimpse of the front:

—are cordially invited to Shiz High School’s annual—

Elphaba dug her ticket out of her pocket and held it carefully between her fingers as they walked over toward the others.

Crope’s teasing impatience dropped. He skipped over and hooked his arm in Glinda’s.

“My lady.”

Glinda giggled and patted his elbow. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Tibbett walked over to Elphaba, less bouncy than Crope, but smiling just as much. “May I?”

“Fine, but I’m not dancing with you.”

“Not even once?”

Elphaba took his arm. “Okay. Maybe once.”

“And we even get to dance more than once this year!” Glinda flopped back onto the bed, bouncing a little as she landed next to Elphaba.

Elphaba propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at her. She had the thought to reach out and run her fingers through the hair that had fallen over Glinda’s face, or trace the lines that crinkled at the corner of her eyes as she smiled. Instead, she found herself held in place, too entranced to even move.

Glinda met her eyes, her smile deepening. “But you know what the best part is?”

“What’s that, my sweet?” Elphaba’s words came out in a breath.

“I’ll get to be with you, the whole night long.”

She smiled back. “You know, that’s not really unlike any other night.”

“I know. That’s why it’s the best part.”

“C’mon Elphie! This is the best part!”

Elphaba clung to Glinda’s hand and resisted the urge to take a step backward. “I disagree with you vehemently.”

“Just one picture?” Fiyero asked. “If we all promise not to post it anywhere?”

Glinda giggled. “I think that one only works when it’s coming from me, Yero.”

“Besides,” said Elphaba, “I’m not sure I trust all of you with that promise.”

Her eyes flicked over to Crope, who pressed his hand to his chest.

“Elphaba, you injure me.”

“I’m sure I do.”

He walked up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Look. I’ll even sneak into yearbook club and delete it from their files if you want. Just—one picture. Please?”

Elphaba rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath, already feeling herself giving in.

“Come on, Elphie. It’s our senior year.”

She let the breath out in a laugh. “How many times are you going to use that excuse this semester?”

“As many times as it works,” Crope said with a shrug. “So?”

“Alright, fine. One picture.”

Crope cheered, bouncing on his toes in front of her. He leaned in, kissed her cheek, then dragged her off to the photo stage before she could take it back. Glinda—still holding Elphaba’s hand—ran with them. The others followed closely, crowding around Elphaba so everyone could fit into frame.

The boys crowded around, leaning over the table to get a better look at the corsage around Glinda’s wrist.

“That’s gorgeous,” Boq said. He glanced up at Elphaba. “Nicely done.”

She shifted in her seat. “Nanny and Shell helped.”

Glinda pulled her hand away from Crope so she could push herself up and kiss Elphaba’s cheek. While she was close, she whispered, “Shell told me the truth. I know you picked it out.”

Elphaba shrugged, ignoring the way heat crept into her cheeks.

A whistle sounded from across the room. Elphaba turned around, scanning the restaurant for—

A few tables over, Milla and Nami were setting their bags down at their own table. Nami met Elphaba’s eyes, grinning widely.

“Hey, Elphaba!”

“Elphaba!”

Elphaba looked up at the sound of her name. Her classmates moved around in the darkness, and the pulsing, dancing lights from the DJ booth made it hard to make anyone out at first.

Eventually, though, her eyes landed on Nami, standing across the room and waving at their group. Beside her, Milla spun around to look at them. A smile split across her face as she grabbed Nami’s arm and dragged her over.

“Milla!” Glinda called. She let go of Elphaba’s hand and ran over. When they were close enough, Milla let go of Nami and launched herself at Glinda, hugging her hard.

Nami walked over—much more calmly—to Elphaba. She held out her fist. “Sup, Elphie?”

“Hey, Nami.” Elphaba fist-bumped her. “I like the jumpsuit. It’s nice not being the only one without a dress.”

“Thanks. You clean up well yourself.”

“Blame Glinda for that.”

Nami grinned. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

Together, they turned to look at Glinda and Milla, who were in the middle of gushing over each other’s dresses. Milla said something, and Glinda held out her skirt and gave a little twirl. The fabric—a delicate, sky blue in the daylight—was pale enough that it seemed to change color with every new flash of the dance lights. Elphaba spared a glance down at herself, wondering if her light blue vest was doing the same thing, but she quickly decided watching Glinda was more important.

She really does look beautiful, Elphaba thought.

“You really do look beautiful.” The words caught, and Elphaba had to clear her throat. But when she looked out of the corner of her eyes, Glinda was blushing.

“So do you,” she said. “I told you the gray suits you.”

“Thank Oz I have you and the boys dressing me.”

“Oh please. You could wear your cross country uniform and still be the most stunning person there.”

Elphaba snorted.

“Are you doubting me, Elphie?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind. That title belongs to you.”

Glinda’s blush deepened. She smiled, almost shyly. “Stop complimenting me, or else we’ll never make it to prom.”

“How do you know that’s not secretly my intention?”

Glinda’s smile widened as she looked sideways at Elphaba. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

“What—” Elphaba shut up as Glinda hit her blinker and swung into a parking lot.

It was just some cluster of businesses along the strip, but Glinda drove around to the back of the building, out of view of the road. She stopped, the car idling, and turned toward Elphaba.

Elphaba stared. “Well, shit. I didn’t think that’d work.”

“We’re still going, Elphie. Just…in a minute.”

“Sure. And what are we doing in that minute?”

“Take a wild guess.” Glinda was already lifting the center console, clearing the way for her to scoot across. Elphaba reached for her, hands finding her waist, and pulled her close.

Elphaba pulled Glinda closer, out of the way of a group of junior girls rushing past. Glinda spun with the momentum and fell into her. All at once, Elphaba became aware of the heat radiating from Glinda’s body, and her hands on Glinda’s waist, holding most of her weight, and the way Glinda pressed her chin against Elphaba’s chest to grin up at her.

“Hi.”

“Something tells me that wasn’t you being clumsy.”

“What can I say? I’m opportunistic.” The song faded, its last beat slipping into silence for a split second before a few slow chords played. Glinda’s eyes lit up. “And incredibly lucky. Dance with me?”

Elphaba pretended to consider. “Do we get to stay like this?”

“Of course.”

She adjusted, pulling Glinda upright so they could stand more comfortably—but not further apart.

“In that case, you don’t even have to ask.”

Glinda slid her hands between Elphaba’s jacket and vest, rubbing long, slow circles up her sides. Elphaba couldn’t quite fight off the shiver that came with her touch. She gripped Glinda’s waist a little tighter. It took a moment, but she eventually remembered that they should be dancing, not just standing there. She swayed with the next chord that hit, gently pulling Glinda along, delighting at the small, pleased smile that played across her lips as they eased into the rhythm.

“Hey,” Glinda whispered, drawing back just long enough to move her hands to Elphaba’s neck. “Did you know I’m in love with you?”

Elphaba ducked her head to press a kiss to Glinda’s hairline. “I’ve heard it a time or two.”

“Like, really in love with you.”

“That’s good,” Elphaba said, spinning them around just to see Glinda’s dress twirl with the movement. Glinda tucked her face into Elphaba’s collar. “I’d hate for this to be a one-sided thing.”

“Elphaba?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

Glinda pulled herself back so she could meet Elphaba’s gaze. Her eyes darted from Elphaba’s, down to her lips, and back up again.

The song was fading, anyway. Elphaba brought a hand to Glinda’s cheek. She felt a tiny thrill as Glinda’s eyes fluttered shut.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of Glinda’s mouth. She couldn’t quite hold back her chuckle as Glinda’s fingers pressed impatiently on her neck.

“I’m in love with you, too, you know,” she whispered.

“I know.”

The entire room disappeared, but she could still hear the faint, moving chords of the tail end of a song. Elphaba smiled, and she kissed her.

#under a cut bc jfc this one got long #fun fact it took me two and a half weeks to figure out how i was going to write this #and approximately an hour and a half to actually write it #anyway i hope you like it! and thank you again!#fics for donation #wicked fanfiction #asks #i suppose #thatwickedozian #prompts #gelphie #high school au #cross your fingers the formatting works y'all it's been so long since i posted something long on tumblr

56 notes · View notes

zwiezraczek · 4 years

Text

She's the first one that I see

Note: Hello hello! 💕 So this is what I wrote for @interwebslandfill’s donation commission for the BlackLivesMatter movement (the list is up right here!) ~ Thank you again for your donation and I hope you’ll enjoy it!

~~~

You breathed in and then out. Dying was tougher than you thought it would be.

You looked back looking for someone. No one. You smiled, because you knew that your death was for greater good and that you could save much more lives than by being by yourself, parkouring in the parking lots and running away from security guards. You had a gift, they said you when they recruited you as a solo artist. You liked to think about you as an artist, a flying dancer grabbing things while in the air and falling down on Earth graciously like a swan to live a peaceful – yet hectic life on your own.

You were running, wind in your hair, and you knew you had to trip and fall and that was the easiest part. The whole situation happening right after was a lot more touchy because you had to land in order to be unnoticed by the camera on your left while you had to leave the place, and that was the plan. You had to be seen one last time falling somewhere, probably in a dumpster, and that was supposedly how you died. In a dumpster. A brilliant idea, but not very practical and from what you had heard about other's deaths yours was a really original – and laughable – one. But honestly, you didn't mind about it, as long as you were able to help them in these tiring times.

You were focused, looking right in front of you as you jumped after the fake tripping situation before falling on the matters that were put right next to it. The camera had caught you, you were sure about it but now, you had to change your clothes and wear this black hoodie on top of your regular bright t-shirt to slide from the camera's attention. As you opened the plastic bag, swishing it, you looked up one last time. This was the city where you grew up, you got these scars – the ones on your knees – on this very ground and you were about to leave it and give your soul to a great cause, and you hoped all of this was worth it. You had to make it happen.

You put the hoodie on, looked right and left before you slid against the large dumpster in order to come out to the light where a car was parked waiting for you. A new beginning. The man opened the car window and had sunglasses on and a smile drawn on his face.

“Hello Eight, I'm glad you made it.”

~~~

He drove you to their place, for about seven hours as you looked at the landscapes changing around you. When you entered the car he politely asked you how you felt about this, and more importantly if your ideas haven't changed since the last time he had spoken to you about this great mission. You looked at him and smiled, and he seemed to understand what that meant. He understood you without a word before he began to drive, while some music played in the background.

“What it is like to... Be dead,” you finally asked as he stopped at a traffic light, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel after the first few hours you had spent in the car with him, half-asleep.

“It's like being alive, but with the perks of being dead,” he replied and put his foot down as the light turned green. “The whole fun begins once you're legally dead, which you are not yet. We have to make things up so your people will find out about it quickly and you'll be able to play with us in this playground.”

“Nice,” you mumbled, your fist on your cheek as you held your head against the window. “I truly can't wait to be part of the Ghosts.”

“You already are.”

Whoever decided that this abandoned place in the middle of nowhere was a great lair for an illegal group of superheroes fighting for justice was either a genius or the devil themselves. But apparently it was only One's idea. You opened your eye as you arrived at the place, with the car jumping up and down because of the shitty road he was driving on. The middle of the night and you were there, with your new ones, the new “yours”. Which you couldn't meet right away because of the ungodly hour One drove you in there, and honestly you were also exhausted by all the preparations that you had made for this day to finally come.

One showed you your new home, a trailer in the desert. In the cold night giving you chills, this trailer looked like heaven with hell's warmth. You didn't even ask questions when he left you so you could make yourself comfortable, he mumbled something about tomorrow but you didn't bother to listen to him at that very moment. You just needed a shower and some sleep. Luckily, somebody had thought about you and left some clean clothes on the sofa that was your bed now, along with some products for you to wash yourself. Immediately after your shower, you put the clothes on and threw yourself on the bed, sleeping like a solid rock for hours and hours not thinking about the major change you made in your life.

You finally met them, after the great night you had spent sleeping in your new home. A new home and a new family. When you entered the room, they were already there looking at you opening the door. You breathed in and waved at them, with a shy smile not knowing how to react. You used to work solo, but now you had to adjust to this new way of life.

“Here's our Eight,” One said and got up from his chair. “New parkourist, parkour expert and she's good at it.” The blond man standing next to the brown-haired woman looked at you and crossed his arms with a smirk.

“I'm Five,” the woman you were looking at said. “Nice to meet you.” And then, they all proceeded to present themselves as numbers, as One told you.

“So you're my new teammate,” Four asked and looked right into your eyes. His arms were still crossed over his chest as he was sitting on the table next to Five.

“Clever,” you replied with a smile. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, me too. One told me you were playing Robin Hood out there, sicker than what I was doing with parkour,” he admitted.

“We have our different paths, I'm not judging, parkour-fam rule.”

“General rule here,” Five added with a warm smile. “We're all coming from different backgrounds, so we know who we were but that doesn't affect who we are.”

“I'm going to cry, so much inspirational shit told there,” One interrupted them and put his hand on Three's shoulder. “Now we have our new birdie we need to turn it into a ghost.”

“On it,” Three replied. “With Two we're almost there sending anonymous messages about someone falling into the dumpster.”

“Great.”

This was probably the beginning of something new, your hometown was far behind you now. You were becoming a Ghost.

~~~

This wasn't going as good as planned. Not at all.

You trained with Four for the past seven months, parkouring in the desert together almost hand in hand with the soft breeze at night and under the hot-burning sun. You shared laughs, you heard how melodious his was and how his eyes were shining under the day and night's stars. He didn't soothe you, he enhanced your Robin Hood tendencies with his straight-forwardness and his unpredictable ideas. And you liked being pushed forward like this, out of your comfort zone – often ending up between Five's arms who was applying some pain-killing cream on your ankle as you were complaining about Four and his ideas.

But now, you knew you had no time to complain as you were running next to him on the roof, being chased by armed men behind you, shooting bullets all around. You had to split, you going more on the left and him on the right. You felt the wind in your hair, it wasn't as easy as it was when you played the Robin Hood in your hometown, it was gambling and you offered your life to play. What had crossed your mind when One came to your house in order to recruit you? It wasn't the moment to think about it. You jumped on the right, avoiding a bullet from hitting you, but at the same time you felt your feet slip on the roof. You already felt death. You cursed your ankle – the one Five had to repair a few times during the past seven months – and hoped that the sweet call of death wouldn't be as sour as predicted. At least, you knew that the guys would focus on you, on catching you alive in order to help them gather information about the Ghosts which would give time to Four to escape. And you knew how to resist if you would be caught, but you hoped for death. But a hand caught you after you heard a gunshot – Seven's probably. Your feet were pedaling in the air as you struggled to look who saved, or cursed, your life. You rose your head, and a well-known hooded face was looking at you, concerned and drawing you up to him. Four. I was him.

“Let me go down,” you shouted to him and almost let your hand slip out of his. But he grabbed yours harder.

“Darling just hold on,” he said looking into your eyes. “I'm not letting you go, Eight.”

Another gunshot behind him. You heard people falling on the roof, and hoped that they weren't on your side, that it wasn't Two. But you heard her thick French accent behind Four hurrying him up, and pulling him closer to her, drawing you up at the same time. And, as you reached the roof again and felt the ground beneath your feet you couldn't get his “darling” out of your head.

Five took care of you right after the mission, even in the car, but in your trailer mostly. She told you to be way more careful with your ankle next time because you seemed to overuse it lately. You nodded being a bit off and smiled. She then revealed you, with a little spark in her eye, that someone was waiting outside your trailer to see you. And you knew this look too well to not expect something to happen, Five always had this mischievous spark in her eye when she was about to do something she was excited about for a reason or another, and seeing this spark was rare and followed by some unexpected event. You told her to let the person enter the place as you began to fidget your hands.

It was Four, again. And again, his words began to resonate in your mind, his “darling” and the fear you saw in his eyes earlier when you were about to fall, to die. But he grabbed your hand, to net let you fall down. Maybe to not lose you, who knew. He entered the trailer, looking a bit clumsily at you with a little shy smile before sitting next to you and grabbing your hand, but this time gently stroking it with his thumb.

“How you're feeling,” he asked delicately as if he didn't want to disturb your peace of mind – at least, he thought your mind was peaceful at that very moment.

“Fine, fine,” you repeated blushing from the contact of his hand against yours and this gentle touch. You suddenly felt that it was pretty hot in here, out of nowhere and looked down, your other hand running through your hair a bit anxiously. You were also biting your lower lip.

“Look at me love, please.” You looked up, hardly believing what you had just heard. Your heart began to race, you thought that it would explode in your chest right now. You never thought that this gentleness, and the pet names would make you feel so weak and you blamed your near-death experience for that.

“L-love...?”

“I have loved you since we began to practice together,” he revealed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach merge with your beating heart, ready to make you explode from the inside. “I mean... It may sound a little bit creepy, and the situation isn't really helping but when I saw you slipping from that roof I thought that my heart would just stop and I had to run to catch you. I knew that I had to save you at that very moment...”

“Four,” you whispered, taken aback a bit.

“I know, this sounds crazy and insane and creepy but I needed to tell you this. I just needed to tell you that you became really important to me, and even if you don't love me the way I do I'll be there for you if you need me, Eight.”

“I think that... I have some feelings for you Four,” you replied shyly and you saw his eyes glistening with joy. “I think it's worth the shot, I owe you my life and even if I didn't it would be worth it, I swear.” You then pressed your lips against his hot cheek and he looked at you again, squeezing your hand.

“I'm Billy.”

You smiled before telling him your name. And from the smile on his face you knew that this would be his sweetest secret, and the most cherished name – as his was to you.

#ben hardy #four/billy #six underground #6 underground #four x reader

99 notes · View notes

adenei · 3 years

Text

Auror 99 - Chapter 10

You can find the whole story on AO3 or FFN

Curveball

Hermione’s plan had come to fruition quite easily with Amy helping. Harry and Ron had spent the past couple of days in the records office trying to gather information and possible evidence. They’d contacted Kingsley to get clearance without having to sign in and risk blowing both their real and fake covers.

Meanwhile, Jake and Charles had been placed on stakeout duty outside the Woolworth building. This time, though, they weren’t looking for a specific person, but some other type of consistency. Perhaps someone entering or exiting the building at the same time every day, or whether there were similarities in people’s gaits with their walk. Hermione and Amy had researched possible ways to imitate a person, and, with the trio’s past use of Polyjuice, they had more ideas of what to look for. Rosa was still stationed on surveillance duty, so she was monitoring the surrounding blocks for any sudden appearances. Sometimes she, Charles and Jake would switch around their duties to not get caught up in the monotony.

What Ron and Harry had found the next day was a similarity in times on the main sign in sheet for the Wand Records Office, but it was always a different name. The names were always male, so if it was Gerteso posing as other people, it narrowed the search for who the 99 was looking for. Once in the Wand Records Office, the second sign-in indicated that Gerteso was searching wand records between 1993 and 1998, but the rows varied. It looked as if Gerteso had been tackling about five rows a day, and was a week in.

He typically only spent about forty five minutes searching each day to not arouse suspicion, and he didn’t go in order when searching the rows. Gerteso clearly planned everything out to minimize suspicions. The first day Harry and Ron were investigating, they split up the rows between them.

It was a small records office, the rows weren’t very long, and the shelves were only four rows high. The years were labeled at the ends of the rows and indicated the record holder’s school age entrance year. Records were kept in manilla folders that had stickers on the end with letters. The first two appeared to be the first and last initial, and most folders only had two stickers, but some had three or four. So Harry and Ron decided to decipher the labeling system first to see if they could save time.

“How in the world does he get through five rows each day? There must be at least a hundred records to sift through on each shelf!” Harry said as he was looking down the row.

“Maybe there’s a classification system with the letters that makes it easier for him to look.” Ron suggested. He scanned the row he was currently scanning. “Americans certainly go through a lot of wands, don’t they? This one person has had at least five, and their Ilvermorny start was in ‘93!” He shook his head in disbelief.

“Guess they’re more careless than we are, or more interested in power and status. Who knows.” Harry was silent for a bit before he said, “Hey Ron, I think the third letter is the married name for those witches.”

“I think you’re right, Harry,” Ron said as he handled a folder himself. “Black and white lettering for first and last name, blue and white lettering for married name, yeah?”

“Yeah, now let’s look for-” Harry cut himself off as they heard a door open.

Ron checked his watch and knew it was close to that time. He pointed at his watch, and then the end of the row. Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak from inside his pocket and put it on while Ron made his way to an area in the shelves where the newcomer wouldn’t find him. He double checked that his phone was on silent, and opened it to send a text message to Jake and Charles. He’s here.

Jake responded fairly quickly. Harry texted Charles. He’s going to give us a description to work off of so when he comes back out we can trail him to see where he goes.

Brilliant, Ron sent back before switching his contacts to Hermione.

Her response was a bit less stealth. Omg. He’s there? Are you going to apprehend him?

Not yet.

Well, why not? Isn’t that the whole reason you’re there???

Ron rolled his eyes. He was once again reminded why Hermione wasn’t an Auror. Hermione, we don’t know for certain that it’s him. Plus, we need to be sure we know what he’s after to have enough evidence. It’d look pretty bad if we arrested the wrong guy and then spooked Gerteso.

Ugh, fine.

While we’re waiting, have you found any more on The Cryptic yet?

OH! Yes, actually. Amy is going to send you a couple files now. It may actually help us narrow it down.

As Ron was reading Hermione’s text, he saw the drop down notification from Amy and clicked on it. There were three links to articles. He clicked on the first one. Apparently one of the street names The Cryptic goes by is Francesco Martini. At least that was his good samaritan name.

He was the youngest philanthropist New York has seen in decades, only 28. It was an article about how he donates thousands of dollars to help orphaned children, both magical and non-magical. He even takes some of the kids into his home, almost like that Daddy Warbucks in that muggle movie Hermione had made him watch once.

Hmm, I wonder if that’s a cover to better assess kids for the squib trafficking. Ron texted Amy.

I was thinking the same thing. Everything we’ve found on Francesco Martini is pretty solid and checks out, though. He’s careful with his aliases. Plus, he’s only ever seen in pictures by this name, so whoever his true identity is, he keeps that locked up tight.

Merlin, how does she text so fast? Ron thought. He moved onto the other articles she sent to pass the time. The first thing he’d do once Gerteso left would be to double check the name Martini, happy to have a solid plan for once.

The last article was still open on his phone when he noticed something about Martini’s picture. Why didn’t it look the same as the other article. Ron quickly toggled back and forth. Bloody hell, he thought as he opened the text thread for Hermione.

Check those images on the articles of Martini, and tell me if you notice anything. He sent the text and waited a few moments. Sure, the years were two apart, but he was vastly different. Almost as if a beauty charm was used on the more recent article. In the older one he looked like-. His thought was cut off as Hermione’s text came through.

It doesn’t look like the same person, even though he’s labeled as Francesco Martini. That’s odd. I’m having Amy cross reference to see if we get any more image hits.

Notice anything else? Ron sent back.

The older image looks like someone I’ve seen before.

Like Gerteso.

Oh, my... YES, RON THAT’S RIGHT! Ron nodded as he read Hermione’s message.

There are some differences, though.

You don’t think they could be brothers, do you? That could fit the whole taking what’s rightfully his.

Maybe even closer than that.

TWINS? But how…

I don’t know. I’ll search both names, Ron sent the last text to her as he heard a door shut. Harry texted.

He’s leaving, but don’t come out yet. I want to be sure. I’m texting Jake and Charles to make sure he doesn’t see them following him, and not to engage. They’ll meet us back at headquarters.

They waited a good five minutes before they received word from Charles that Gerteso had left the Woolworth building. When Harry told him it was safe, Ron quickly showed him what Hermione and Amy had found and where he wanted to look.

“But that wouldn’t make sense, I trailed him the entire time he was here. He didn’t search the rows he wrote down in the log book, either, Ron. He stayed in the G section of 1998.”

“I think they’re brothers Harry, and if Martini is an alias, then of course Gerteso would be looking in G. Let’s just check the M1998 section.” Harry nodded reluctantly as they quickly found it.

“There’s no Martini here, Ron,” Harry said impatiently, but Ron didn’t move.

He stood there, thinking hard. “What did Kingsley say about the Sanguinity connection with The Cryptic?”

“Just that the Sanguinity named him head of the New York Division,” Harry said, scratching his head.

“He’s 28, Harry. Very young. There’s got to be something special about him.”

“Or maybe they couldn’t find a suitable leader in New York and sent him here,” Harry said half jokingly.

Ron looked up at him. “That’s it! Harry, you’re brilliant!” He immediately began moving to the end of the aisle.

“What? I was only-”

“But what if he was sent here? From Italy? Do they have immigrant records?”

“Er, yeah on the other side of the floor.”

“What are we waiting for?” Ron hurried to the immigration record area and searched for Martini. It didn’t take long to find one singular match in 1998. “Bloody hell,” Ron muttered as they grabbed the file.

He opened it as Harry looked over his shoulder, and sure enough, there was a picture of a boy who closely resembled a younger version of the man who Ron had seen in the article. It turned out Martini was indeed an alias.

“So The Cryptic’s real name is Lorenzo Guarnieri?” Harry asked quietly.

“Looks like it. Let’s take pictures of all this so we can take it back to the team.” Ron handed Harry the folder as he reached for his phone.

As Ron was taking the pictures, Harry continued studying the document. When it came across familial relations, Harry drew a sharp breath in. “Whoa.”

“What?” asked Ron.

“I think you might be right about the brother hunch, mate.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Ron asked curiously.

“Because it says so right here. A twin brother, who was older, but presumed dead. Leonardo Guarnieri.”

Ron looked up at Harry and both men had the same thought at the same time. “Gerteso.”

#harry potter au #hp/b99 crossover #brooklyn 99 au

9 notes · View notes

kousin-itt · 3 years

Text

I Got Your Back - Part 3

WARNING: Violence and blood in this chapter, along with light implied sexual humor.

Part 3

Block pulled up a holographic screen to display the information as he relayed it to Cavendish and Dakota. “The Triton’s Amulet was a priceless jeweled necklace created by a master jeweler and given to the daughter of a family who was feuding with the jeweler’s family. The feud between the families was full-on bloodshed. I’m talking Montague vs. Capulet level, at each other’s throats at all times. The Triton’s Amulet was a peace offering, a symbol of the friendship between the jeweler and the daughter. It was passed down through the generations until it was donated to a museum, where it was stolen by this man: Tyler Cobalt. Cobalt sells the Triton’s Amulet to a black-market dealer, who later dismantles the necklace and sells the parts for profit. That, gentlemen, is what you are going to prevent.”

“So, we are to prevent the theft of the amulet?” Cavendish guessed.

“Oddly enough, no.” Block said. “See, the Triton’s Amulet being stolen prompts the museum to create better security measures, which later prevents worse thefts from happening. You two are going to tail Cobalt until he steals the amulet, and then you’re going to take the amulet from him before he can sell it.”

“Thieving the thief. I like it.” Dakota chuckled.

“Stay sharp, Chuckles.” Block snapped. “You two won’t have a big window of opportunity. Cobalt steals the amulet late at night and then hops on a plane early the next morning to take the amulet to the black market. Based on our research, Cobalt actually gets killed by the buyer once he gets to the black market; but, ideally, you two dunderheads will retrieve the amulet and Cobalt will be apprehended by the police of his era. Be quick, be careful, and be sneaky.”

Dakota caught the backpack Block tossed to him. Cavendish accepted the paperwork with all their mission information. “We will not let you down, sir.”

“Well, you haven’t so far.” Block shrugged. “But I’m not getting my hopes up. Now get out of here!”

A short while later, the Second-Class Time Travelers were in their time vehicle and speeding off into the time stream.

Dakota fiddled with his seat to get comfortable. “When are we getting our own vehicle? I’m tired of this stupid van.”

“It’s a standard time vehicle for in-training and rookie agents.” Cavendish reasoned. “I’m sure we’ll get a new one once we complete this mission. Besides, it’s not that bad. It’s actually one of the newer models, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, but the seats could use new stuffing.” Dakota complained.

“If you don’t like it, why don’t you go lay on that mattress you insisted on putting in the back?” Cavendish jerked a thumb behind him. Indeed, the backseats were folded down and there was a twin-size mattress taking up half of the empty space behind them.

“That’s my napping mattress when our missions take too long.” Dakota protested. “If I lay on it now, I’ll fall asleep.”

“I never took you for the type to care.” Cavendish sighed.

“Eh, go boil your head.” Dakota snickered.

“You’re ridiculous.” Cavendish muttered under his breath.

Thankfully, they arrived in the right time and place soon enough. The darkness of the night setting contrasted greatly with the bright colors of the time stream they just exited. Dakota took out the mission file and punched a location into the GPS. Cavendish followed the directions to the museum while Dakota rummaged around in the backpack Block gave them.

“Typical supplies. Rather boring weapons.” Dakota took out two hand pistols, designed appropriately for their current era. Generally, time travelers only used weapons that matched whatever time period they were in, just in case that weapon were to get lost or taken by someone else in that era. Plus, fewer people would ask questions.

“I hope we do not need to use them.” Cavendish was a decent shot, but he despised guns. They had no elegance, no beauty in them. Not to mention it was far too easy for someone to be killed by one.

Dakota hummed in thought. He looked and sounded more focused than Cavendish had seen before. Dakota didn’t like that Block gave them guns. Not because he hated guns, per se, but because he worried about having to use them. Time travelers weren’t supposed to cause deaths in the past unless absolutely necessary.

Cavendish parked the van around the corner from the museum. He and Dakota exited the vehicle and walked up the stairs to the front door of the magnificent building. Dakota pretended to check the hours while covertly investigating the dark interior.

“According to the files, this building’s alarm system only goes off if someone tries to break and enter.” Cavendish said as they walked down the steps.

“But Cobalt gets away and the theft isn’t even discovered until morning.” Dakota remembered that from the file. “How does he get in without tripping the alarm?” He looked ahead and froze, cursing in Italian. Cavendish followed his gaze and saw their target. Cobalt walked towards them, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a cigarette pinched between his lips. He looked inconspicuous, like a barman walking home from a late-night shift.

“Act casual.” Cavendish whispered.

“Does that mean we kiss?” Dakota teased.

Cavendish bit his lip to keep from exploding in indignation and frustration. How can he be joking around at a time like this?! Cavendish wondered. Dakota sniggered again, and the pair kept walking. Cobalt passed them without a second glance.

Smart. Dakota mused. Act like you don’t exist, like you belong where you are now, and most people glance over you. He pulled Cavendish into the next alley they passed, and they watched Cobalt continue down the sidewalk. Once he started climbing the stairs to the museum, Cavendish and Dakota tiptoed closer and hid behind one of the statues out front. They watched in amazement as Cobalt pulled a key from his pocket, unlocked the door to the museum, and strutted inside like he owned the place.

“Clever.” Cavendish tapped his lip in thought as they returned to their van. “Either he stole the key from one of the employees or he found a way to copy it himself.”

“Now we know how he avoided detection until morning.” Dakota said. They sat in their van, moving it only just enough to see the front doors of the museum. “What do you say we jump him when he gets back? Take the amulet, arrest him, and get back home for lunch?”

“Not likely.” Cavendish said. “Did you not see the bulge in his jacket?”

“Was I supposed to see it? What if it’s inappropriate?” Dakota shrugged.

Cavendish face-palmed. Curse his partner’s crude humor. “I’m saying he very clearly had a gun in his pocket. Best if we wait until he comes out. Then, we will follow him home and steal back the Triton’s Amulet while he sleeps. Less chance of us getting shot.”

Dakota checked the time. “Depending on when he gets back and how long it takes to drive there, that only gives us a few hours before his flight in the morning.”

“We can manage.” Cavendish assured.

The confidence in his partner’s voice put Dakota’s mind at ease. They waited, watching the doors until they spotted Cobalt leaving. Cobalt returned to his own car and drove off, with Cavendish and Dakota safely following him. Cobalt left the brightly lit streets and arrived at a dinghy strip of townhouses. Cavendish parked the van in a dark alleyway. Dakota slung their backpack of gear over his shoulder. Cavendish glanced to his satchel in the backseat, and he decided it would be best if he only had his firearm with him. He and Dakota trailed Cobalt’s car to find which building he lived in. Cavendish and Dakota ducked behind some bushes and watched Cobalt park and enter a house. The lights inside came on, and then flipped off fifteen minutes later.

“He’ll probably sleep for a while before his flight.” Dakota guessed. “Let’s get that amulet.”

“Wait a moment. Give him time to really fall asleep.” Cavendish whispered. “If he locked it in a safe, we need time to hack into it.”

“You can crack a safe?” Dakota looked impressed.

“You don’t know everything about me.” Cavendish shrugged with a rather proud smile.

“I hardly know anything about you.” Dakota said. “We really ought to fix that. What’s your favorite food?”

“You really want to do this now?” Cavendish hissed. “What if someone hears us?”

“It’s just past midnight and all the other houses are dark. Relax.” Dakota scoffed.

“I will relax when the mission is complete.” Cavendish declared.

“And then we can talk more? Get to know each other better?” Dakota suggested.

Cavendish opened his mouth to retort, but conflicting words tangled his tongue. Part of him wanted to scoff and assure Dakota that such a thing wasn’t necessary. Another part of him pleaded to say yes. So Cavendish cleared his throat and returned his attention to the house. Despite his mild fear of the dark, he was happy the shadows could mask his discomfort. Why did he find the idea of hanging out with Dakota enjoyable? What was so appealing about the thought that he and this brutish young man could be friends?

Once they agreed it was safe, Cavendish and Dakota snuck up to Cobalt’s house. Dakota picked the lock to the front door, and they crept into the dark house. Dakota handed Cavendish one of the pistols from his backpack. Cavendish gestured for Dakota to go up the stairs, and Dakota nodded to confirm. The pair split off to search the two-level house.

Even in the near-blackness, Cavendish could register the layout of the connected kitchen and living room area. The first word that came to mind was “pathetic.” From the outdated appliances in the kitchen to the weathered easy chair and cheap TV in the living room, Cavendish deduced that Cobalt was a broke loner, which explained why he would steal for profit. If it were different circumstances, Cavendish would entertain the idea of counseling Cobalt instead of leading him to the police. However, Cobalt’s file outlined a history of drug abuse and distribution to high schoolers, so Cavendish felt little pity for the man destined to be arrested that night.

Must focus. Cavendish reminded himself. The sooner Dakota and I find that amulet, the sooner we get out of here.

As Dakota ventured upstairs, Morgan’s lessons echoed in his head. Never step in the middle of the stairs, where creaks are more likely to happen. Keep low to the ground to delay enemy detection. Be aware of everything around you. Listen; do not hear but listen. Dakota felt a tingle go up his spine. He hated silence. He hated the apprehension that came with sneaking around. Any moment now, he might get caught. He wished Cavendish were at his back.

Upstairs, there were three doors, two of which were closed. Snoring came from one door. By reaching into the open door, Dakota could feel a countertop and porcelain sink for a bathroom. Dakota moved deliberately, closer and closer to the closed doors. Since they neighbored each other, Dakota couldn’t tell where the snores came from. After a quick eeny-meeny-miny-moe, Dakota twisted the knob of one door and pushed it open, ever so slowly.

He nearly cursed in Italian again.

Dakota chose the door to the office space, but Cobalt evidently decided to sleep in his rickety office chair before his early flight. Dakota almost shut the door when a glitter caught his eye.

Figures. Dakota silently groaned. The Triton’s Amulet lay on the desk next to Cobalt. Dakota’s mind raced. What would Morgan do? What should he do? What might Cobalt do if Dakota’s plan failed? Dakota had a thought to awaken Cobalt and arrest him, but Block did make it explicitly clear that Cobalt’s fate should rest in the hands of the authorities in this time period. Dakota didn’t much care for the rules. Still, he had no idea if Cobalt had a weapon on him. Better to grab the amulet and get out.

Quietly, Dakota slipped the backpack off his shoulders and set it aside, just in case he had to make a run for it. With his gun trained on Cobalt’s sleeping form, Dakota took the slowest, most silent steps he could manage. He forced his breathing under control to stay quiet. His eyes flickered fast, focusing on Cobalt for a split second and then spending the next half-second staring at the desk so he would not bump into it. Cavendish was still downstairs.

It only took a minute that felt like an hour to reach the desk. Still, Dakota kept his gun pointed at Cobalt. His fingertips gripped the edges of the trident-shaped, jeweled pendent. Dakota lifted the amulet from the desk and slipped it and the chain into his jacket pocket. Dakota moved back to the door, his nerves settling.

He reached the door, and a light cast his shadow against the wall.

Dakota spun around, safety flicked off on his gun, but the brightness of Cobalt’s flashlight blinded him. Cobalt pushed the gun aside and body-slammed Dakota into the wall. He smashed the door against Dakota’s hand and forced him to drop the gun. Dakota shoved Cobalt back and punched him. The flashlight hit Dakota’s face, and he tasted blood. He aimed low and tackled Cobalt like a linebacker, sending them to the ground where they grappled for control. The erratic movement of the light disoriented them. Cobalt may have been similar in build, but he was fueled by desperation, and a desperate man was hard to fight until you found just the right moment to subdue him.

In the poorly lit space, Dakota didn’t see the office chair and tripped over it while trying to escape. The chair landed on top of him, and then so did Cobalt. The flashlight’s beam hit Dakota’s eyes again. The top of the chair’s backrest pressed against his throat, and Cobalt pushed his entire body weight on the chair to keep Dakota pinned.

“Thought you could swipe my prize, huh?” Cobalt sounded as crazy as he looked. “I got someone willing to pay a fortune for that thing, and you are going to pay big time for screwing with me.”

With the chair pressing against his legs, Dakota didn’t have the proper leverage to push or kick it off him. He struggled with all his might, clawing at the poor-quality leather upholstery. He couldn’t get a breath in. His thoughts ran a mile a minute. Where was his gun? Where was Cavendish? What would happen to him if Cobalt realized there was a second intruder in the house?

Dakota fought to stay alive. The room was getting darker. Was the flashlight going out?

“No!”

Cavendish may be lanky in figure, but his full body weight and force of the blow was strong enough to knock Cobalt off Dakota and send both men tumbling across the floor. Dakota coughed harshly, pushing the chair off him. He could just make out Cavendish and Cobalt exchanging punches. Cobalt kept one hand on Cavendish’s gun to keep it away from him. He punched the time traveler in the eye, breaking his glasses. Driven by adrenaline, Cavendish punched back harder. Cobalt managed to get one good hit into Cavendish’s stomach that knocked the wind from him.

Then, Cavendish felt something hard jab him in his ribs. Just before he realized what it was, a gunshot went off, and burning pain coursed through his torso. In shock, Cavendish hit the ground while holding his side. Cobalt had his gun, aimed right at him. Cavendish flinched, preparing himself for another shot that would hopefully kill him immediately.

“Hey!”

Cobalt turned his attention and gun to Dakota. Five shots left Dakota’s gun in quick succession: one hit Cobalt in the forehead, two hit his chest, one hit the wall, and one grazed Cobalt’s shoulder. Cobalt was dead before he hit the floor. Dakota didn’t need to check for a pulse to know that, but he still kicked the gun from the criminal’s hand before he ran to his partner’s side.

#milo murphy's law #balthazar cavendish #vinnie dakota #fanfic

9 notes · View notes

toloveawarlord · 4 years

Text

Pt. 3

Characters: Alara & Mansion Residents

Tagging: @plumpblueberry @ihavenotfallenyet @claire-maccarthy @littlewitty

A/N: Wow this took a ton of time and I rewrote scenes multiple times. I have mapped out the rest of this mini-series and it will be about 8 chapters long. Give or take a little bit!

Their opinions differed.

Split.

Arguments covering all the options of how to handle their tiny guest. Arthur, Vincent, and Napoleon siding on the best choice being for her to stay with them. She would be protected, safe, and happy. Jean, Mozart, and Sebastian were erring on the side of caution, finding all the reasons it would be wrong for her to remain. The rest of the residents were undecided.

Comte sat at the head of the table, no indication of his own thoughts on steeled features. Eventually, it would fall upon him to make the final decision as the owner of the mansion. Having his residents in disarray over a single human child, no matter how tragic her plight, simply wouldn’t do. She’d left quite a mark on the ones who had met her.

“Would it not be best to send the little mademoiselle to an orphanage? She’d be cared for, fed, sheltered, adopted into a permanent home,” Jean said. He’d only see the stepfather and he did sympathize, but this environment was most dangerous for a child.

Arthur gave a breathy laugh, waving his hand to dismiss the idea. “It’s unlikely that she’d last a week in a place like that. Her mother was bought, and that threat continues to loom over her. She’ll be eaten alive in an orphanage.” The mere idea of subjecting her to more trauma set a frown on the writer’s lips.

“Poor choice of words, Arthur. She’d be eaten alive here if one of us lost control.” The sour pianist hadn’t even laid eyes on the girl, but the presence of a child could bring adverse effects. What if she caused a ruckus when he was creating? All he knew of children was they’re loud and insatiable.

Isaac’s gaze flickered between the opposite parties. Both had their valid hypothesis of the outcomes of her staying, and yet... “If you’d met her, Mozart, you’d surely have reservations in throwing her out. We have a steady supply of rouge and blanc.” He’d consider it an outlier to say that their vampire state is the largest threat to her safety. Isaac couldn’t, in good conscious, send Alara off after seeing her carefree smile surface with them.

“I’m in agreement,” Vincent spoke up. Cerulean blue eyes downcast at his hands, the lingering feeling of her trembling body against his own ever present. The reason unclear, but the painter wished to protect her from the world that sought to harm her.

Sebastian cleared his throat, his opinion on the matter he thought irrelevant. “I believe it will be your decision, M. Le Comte. What action do you advise we take concerning our little guest?” He would honor whatever Comte decided.

All attention fell onto the pure blood at the head of the table, many of them wearing their emotions clearly on their faces. The truth being that an orphanage would not treat her kindly, but with so many residents against her stay, the most comparable choice was to place her in a family that he trusted to be good for her.

“I’ve a suggestion,” Theo interrupted, having remained neutral and quiet for most of the conversation. He’d only met the girl briefly, and the facts of their nature as vampires posed a real threat, and yet, humans could be just as dangerous. The situation a heavy one. “We should take a couple of days to deliberate on it.”

Dazai hummed in response but began to nod his head in agreement. “A rushed decision could result in a wrong choice. That man might simply claim her from an orphanage, and her fate could twist into more pain.”

“We shall keep Alara in our care until we can ensure her a home that will be suitable. Whether that be here, or elsewhere.” Comte spoke at last, bringing a swift end to their meeting. Tension and emotions were still high from the confrontation only hours earlier. All needed to reflect and rest.

As for himself, Comte went to visit their guest. He assured Napoleon that no reason remained for a guard. Oscar wouldn’t dare return so soon after his talk, if at all. The snake of a man had accepted the generous donation and returned to his hole. Shutting the door soundlessly, Comte turned his attention to the soft whines coming from beneath the comforter.

“Calm your fears. No harm shall come to you here, mon petite cherie.” Words laced with comfort and full of protection. He brushed his fingers through silky locks of black hair until the pained expression calmed. Had this child ever known a night of rest without nightmares since coming to France?

No real solution had been settled. His house in partial disarray. A little girl in a precarious situation where she would likely be subjected to more pain before this ended. Comte draped his overcoat over the back of the armchair before settling in it.

Finding any home for her was a simple job. His connections were endless but nowhere fitting the standard of life that he could provide for her. Any upper-class French couple would only treat a foreign child as lesser than. He refused to send her to anywhere less than a home that could give her anything her heart desired.

Yet, keeping her here held a great risk. A household full of vampires. The secret could be kept easily if no one bit her, at least until she was old enough to know. But children were reckless and hurt themselves easily. One slip and she could end up dead. Though he trusted each and every one of his residents and believed them to be careful enough to keep her safe, accidents were a possibility.

How would she effect the balance?

Too many variables and at the center was a little girl who had already made her way into his heart. Comte had no children of his own, and his experience with children limited. Never once had he desired to care for one until he saw those pale green eyes change from fearful to full of life. He couldn’t bring himself to fully give in to her if it meant disrupting the other residents.

He only intended to rest his eyes. Thoughts enraptured in problems stacking upon problems with less solutions to fight against them. The raging storm outside reflected within his own mind. The longer they kept her, the harder it would be for her to part with them. The right answer alluding him at every turn.

Morning light spilled over into the bedroom, bringing warmth to the room. Sky without any lingering dark clouds of the intense storm. Birds chirped a happy tune, signaling a better day than the one before. Even the sun peeking over the horizon gave a promise to be brighter and warmer.

Comte awoke to the serene moment, content to simply listen to the birds sing beyond the windowpane for a little longer. As he moved to shift his legs, a weight that hadn’t been there the previous night prohibited it. Golden eyes slid open, unsure of what to expect.

Beneath a silken blanket, Alara sat on his lap, cheek pressed against him. Her breathing soft but she slept soundly, clutching his other arm to her as if it were her only lifeline. Black hair messy and tangled from the blanket shifting around it. Either the storm or her nightmares had woken her, and she chose to seek comfort with him.

“You’ve seen too much for your age,” Comte spoke quietly to her, petting her head. There were quite a few problems with her being in the mansion, but perhaps he could smooth them all over. As he lifted his palm to stroke her hair again, the girl woke with a start.

Pale green eyes wide with fright and confusion. She tried to slide away from him, memory fuzzy. Most mornings in her home had been lonely, and if anyone were there, it did not bode well for her. Without realizing, Alara had pulled away too much and slipped nearly completely off his legs.

Comte reacted inhumanly quick, leaning forward and catching her before she fell into the floor. “You’re alright, Alara. No more harm will come to you,” he assured as he placed her back onto his lap. “We slept a little late this morning. I’m confident that breakfast is waiting.”

The fear lingering in her eyes began dissipating and, in its place, a bit of anticipation. Her eyes flickered to the door as someone rapped on it before opening it. The way she recoiled to hide herself from view was bittersweet. Her openness to be comfortable with Comte, yet afraid of it crumbling down around her.

“I have purchased clothes more suited for her as requested. It will be delivered later in the day. However, I brought this for her to wear today.” Sebastian held up a beautiful, coral rose dress made of the finest materials that one could buy. “I’ll see to her getting dressed.”

He’d promised to do so, but once alone with the girl, it seemed an arduous task. Sebastian laid the dress on the bed along with the socks and shoes he’d picked out to best go with the outfit before addressing the child ducked down on the other side of the bed. “Please come out from there Miss Alara.”

“I can do it myself!” She dressed herself every day. The maids taking the time to teach her how in order to not have to do it themselves. As long as no buttons were out of reach, Alara had confidence that this task could be completed.

“I’ll wait outside, then.” Sebastian wavered at the door. He couldn’t allow her to cause herself harm, but at the same time, pushing her would only put a rift between their relationship. Should Comte decide to adopt the girl into the home, it would become his duty to oversee her needs met.

With the door almost completely closed, Alara peeked over the top of the bed to be sure that he’d gone. Satisfied that the room was empty, she rounded the bed and observed the dress up close. Her fingers dragged across the material, softer than she’d ever felt before. Nothing like the coarse and uncomfortable dress that her stepfather bought for her.

No buttons were in her way. The dress slid easy over her head and she only struggled for a moment to get her arms through the fitted cuffs at the bottom of the sleeves. Alara plopped onto the floor, falling onto her back as she tugged and pulled the white sock over her small foot, then repeated with the other.

The final touch, a pair of black shoes with a strap that looped around her ankle and buckled to the other side. She’d been taught how to do it, but it had always proved hard. After a few minutes of struggle, the girl simply tucked the end of the strap through and thought it to be fine.

“All done,” Alara announced to an empty hallway. That man was a butler, so he must have something else to do. All the staff at her stepfather’s home worked all day long and never stopped. Cleaning, cooking, delivering. She shrugged her shoulders and began down the hall. The kitchen and dining hall were down the stairs somewhere, so she must be going in the right direction.

A door ajar caught her attention, as all the others were tightly closed. A room filled with more books and interesting treasures than she had ever seen before drew her in. A haphazard mess, but a beautiful one. Books were stacked taller than she stood, paintings and maps stuffed all in between. Whose room would this be?

Atop one of the stacks, a shiny necklace laid in plain sight. Curiosity took over, as no one was around to see, and she reached up to take it. Nothing supported the tower books and the slightest shift caused the entire thing to lean towards her, ready to bury her beneath it’s hard covers.

Though Alara squeezed her eyes shut and covered her head, the anticipated pain never hit her. Instead, the overwhelming smell of cigarettes filled the space.

“That was a close one, wasn’t it?” The man holding back the stack of books had appeared from the other side of the pile. He imagined this must the girl that had caused the big commotion. Such a slight but beautiful child. Only half awake, he’d barely caught it, and hadn’t realized that his lazy expression was being misconstrued as an unhappy glare.

Alara took a step back, pale green eyes wide with many emotions, but the most present one being fear. Who was this man? Why was he sleeping on the floor? Would he be angry with her for invading his room? How much trouble was she in? The only men she’d known to smoke were her stepfather’s so-called friends.

“Scusa, - hey, wait-”

The words barely reached the child that started to bolt from the room. Being startled by a stranger had scared her at first but being reprimanded for entering a room that didn’t belong to her brought about the most distress. Alara spotted a figure ahead that she recognized from the previous night. “Arthur!”

The writer turned at the call of his name, lighting up with a smile for a brief moment until he noted the frantic state, she was in. “What’s the matter?” He couldn’t fathom what might have startled her so.

“Pick me up!” She rose up onto the balls of her feet, arms outstretched and begging for it. He’d protected her last night and she did quite like his accent, so a sense of familiar safety came from being around him.

“You don’t need to try to climb me,” Arthur chuckled as he did as she wanted. His gaze flickered from her to Leonardo’s room where she’d come out of. He must have been sleeping in an odd place and accidentally scared her. What good fun. With the girl’s legs locked around his waist and thin arms so tight around his neck, Arthur patted her back. “I’ll wager that Leonardo isn’t as frightening as you think he is.”

Leonardo emerged from his bedroom, brushing his hand through his hair. “I had no intentions of scaring you, cara mia.” He’d only heard the story of what happened second hand, and grossly underestimated how timid and fragile her mindset was.

The only response given was a soft whine as she hid her face in Arthur’s neck and tightened her grip on him. “Scary.” Her whisper soft enough that only the writer caught it, to which he found quite amusing.

“This is quite the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.” Arthur grinned at the other vampire. He wanted to bring her down for breakfast just like this. A triumphant entrance as he’d boast that he’d won her trust. “I hadn’t a clue you liked to torture young ones.”

“I saved her from a stack of books about to collapse on top of her. That’s the opposite of torture. I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

No response came.

Leonardo tried speaking to her as they walked down to the dining hall. She refused to even look at him, only responding to Arthur when he asked her an unrelated question. He sighed in defeat as they reached the main door. It would take some time to recover from this incident.

A truly bad first impression.

85 notes · View notes

sorashiro001 · 4 years

Text

BlueShift's Stream from Other Side of The Screen

POV you are a bored Twitch streamer and decided to scroll through your recommendation stream page on Twitch.

A Freemanverse Casual-Competitive Gaming AU Oneshot.

You are bored. Not much of your favourite streamers were going live in Twitch and you need your daily entertainment. Sleeping is futile, so you decided to check on your recommendation list. One of the recommended streams caught your eyes immediately with their title.

Day 1 of attempting to stream peacefully (VetExpert asleep, STFU)

BlueShift (5k viewers)

You remembered BlueShift, he was one of the top 20 AWPer in CSGO and one of the top pro players in NA Region. He then retired from the game to become a streamer after getting benched and replaced by his old teammate but quickly getting another attention when he showed up again in the pro-league scene, this time in R6S. Many of his fans weren't happy with his decision to ditch his old stage, but it was a refreshing starting point for some of his older fans.

Another name in the title also one of the reasons the stream caught your eyes.

VetExpert? That name echoed through your memories, reopening some of them. You remembered how enthusiastic your gaming friends were when you asked them about that name. Apparently, the username belongs to a prodigy at FPS games, from the first Counter-Strike and Call of Duty franchise to their latest ones, pulling out one-tap shots and out-of-box strats. The man also rumoured to be a genius in his academic days, getting his PhD at a very young age in MIT, yet you're confused why he threw his potential away and turned into a pro player instead.

You quickly shook those thoughts out and clicked on the stream, oblivious to the chaos awaiting behind the screen.

"Dagnabit, their Ash is blind as hell." The familiar southern accented voice filled your ears as you watched the man, currently playing as Smoke, throwing his gas canisters to Bank Garage in Basement and watched as the yellow toxic gas filling up the area widely. Seconds later, Blue got three confirmed kills with his gas. "Poor whoever those two followin' that dumbass."

You could hear a crackling noise from the game's voice chat, this time it's from his squadmate; Hawkeye01.BMesa. "TOUCH THE FINAL TWO AND YOU ALL DEAD TO ME!!!"

Damn, he's one loudmouth fella-

And just like that, 4th round finally ended with the final two headshot kills and the game ended in Blue's team victory. You caught a glimpse of the last killcam and stared in awe as Hawk obliterated those last two attackers with Vigil's double-barrel BOSG shotgun in just two headshots. The voice chat erupted in cheers of disbelief or simply laughed along, while Blue chuckled in amusement and Hawk grunted in satisfaction. In the end, Hawk's Vigil stood up in the middle of his team victory screen as the MVP. Blue flashed the scoreboard, and you felt your jaw dropped.

Hawkeye01.BMesa got 17 kills and 0 death, followed by BlueShift.BMesa 3 kills and a single death.

This man got at least 2 aces in the match.

Holy shit, what kind of monster is Hawk-

Even before you finished your thought, a medium brunette-haired man barged into Blue's room and quickly threw himself into the streamer, knocking him out from the chair and let out a pained groan. The screen then shifted from the game's home screen to a full view of his room. The room's size isn't too big nor small, a Black Mesa esports jersey is hanged on the wall right behind him along with posters of his old CSGO team members and a single bed with a blue-orange sheet cover. On top of it, however, you could see another brunette, this time with short messy hair, was sleeping peacefully while wrapping his body in a puffy orange lambda-symbol blanket despite the chaos happening in there. A pair of black square-framed glasses sat on the nightstand beside the bed. You guessed he's VetExpert from the stream title alone.

"Ross, I'm still streamin' here-" His panicky voice was interrupted by the brunette man's oddly-familiar hysterical laughter. The brunette man stood up tall and fixed his glasses' position, looming over the southern streamer while smirking, full of his ego.

"Who cares?! I beat your highest kills!!!" The man cackled out loud, his rattail-tied brunette hair swayed as he grabbed a beanbag chair and threw it on him. "You fuckers finally witness my fucking pure fragging skills, unlike those cowards at last time major."

What does this man mean by- oh.

He's talking about those 17 kills.

He's that fucker Hawkeye01.

You quickly check the stream chat and witnessing a chaotic clash between two sides. There are the ones that spamming PogChamp and Popcorn emoji, and the others spamming random copypastas to "Ward off Ross' shitshow", while you and (maybe) a handful of people could only type "???" on it. There even Bits spams and multiple donation notifs with its TTS mostly consisting from "Ross get the fuck out, I'm playing Minecraft!" to "GORDOS YOUR BOYFRIEND GOT ATTACKED BY A FUCKING FIEND WAKE UP!"

...Wait, who's Gordos?

As if on cue, the short brunette haired man sat upright, rubbing his eyes while yawning widely, and effectively stop the current chaos somehow. Those two froze in their place, eyes staring at the short-haired brunette as he also staring back at them. The freshly-woke up Vet blinked twice before signing something, he points at them and formed his hand to make ASL fingerspelling of O and K with added confused expression. Both men went silent for a moment, then nodded in sync. It seemed to please the sleepy man because he went back to burying himself again inside his puffy blanket. The room went deadly silent, only sound of Blue's CPU fan could be heard.

You thought it was over, but you were wrong. Badly wrong.

From the background, you heard a loud fire alarm noise accompanied by panic screeching and angry screaming, sending both men scrambling out from the room. Between those muffled panic screams from outside the room, you saw another brunette, this time he's way bigger than other brunette men, busting down the door, grabbed Vet out from the bed with his blanket, then put him on his shoulder like a sack and ran out again. White-grayish smokes slowly seeping in through the door and filling the bedroom, successfully getting on your nerve. You quickly opened the chat again and found another two separate sides, this time in betting who's the one cooking and causing the fire (most of the name in the bets were either Dean and Antoine-whoever, you didn't know about them much) and some of them mentioned that they'd called the team's "Administrator" (or as the chat typed; @min. that's one strange username, you thought). As the smoke was getting thicker, you decided to spent your own Bits for the TTS to gain the chaotic chat's attention.

[privatepolar] is giving Bits x500: "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN PLEASE???"

The chat slowly sent fewer messages after that TTS message, saved for the bets and small amount of copypastas, but somehow it raised a red flag inside your brain.

What comes next almost short-circuited your brain cells.

[OwOGamer] is giving Bits x10: "Bet u r a newcomer to this stream. Don't worry dis 1 is milder."

WHAT DO THEY MEAN BY "MILDER"?! THIS ISN'T A SERIOUS THING FOR THEM???

[helpmeimdying] is giving Bits x50: "Yo should we tell them about how gordos obliterated ross with a crowbar?"

WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK?! ISN'T THAT SUPPOSED TO BE ILLEGAL??

[Ashe.R6] is giving Bits x100: "nah lets go with wayne chase tf out of dean for cussing in front of joshie (1/2)"

Oh, this one isn't sound too bad- wait why it's got split into two parts-

[Ashe.R6] is giving Bits x100: "then john tackled wayne to ground along w/ barney and antoine sandwiched them all (2/2)"

...You could feel your sanity slowly draining out the longer you listen to Bits TTS' robotic voice as if to mock you for being the only sane one here. You silently begging to whatever the ones that took your sanity away for a peaceful death.

The last thing you heard in the background was a sound of the fire department's siren as the stream came to a sudden stop.

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

The next day, you subscribed to his Twitch channel.

Screw your sanity, you wanted to see more of the mayhem behind BlueShift's stream.

You lightly chuckled to yourself.

You've become the very thing you'd feared, and you don't regret it at all.

#gordon freemanverse #freemanverse comp-cas au #barney calhoun #gordon freeman #freeman's mind #with gorgeous freeman cameo #half life au #half life

12 notes · View notes

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years

Photo

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 19, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

On January 20, 2017, Trump took the oath of office and gave his “American Carnage” speech describing America as a hellscape, and we were off to the races.

Trump vowed he would smash norms and boundaries to “drain the swamp.” He filled positions in his administration with political operatives and appointed his son-in-law Jared Kushner to manage so many projects it would have been funny if it weren’t so deadly serious. The policies the administration advanced were usually hastily and poorly conceived; when the courts overturned them, Trump complained of “the Deep State.”

Days after he took office, he issued the travel ban aimed at Muslims, the first in a series of actions throughout his presidency designed to subordinate people of color to white Americans. The racism in his rhetoric and regulations pulled white supremacists behind him. On August 11-12, 2017, they rioted in Charlottesville, Virginia. Their protest of the removal of a statue of Confederate General Robert E. Lee became an attempt to create a political vanguard.

The “Unite the Right” rally turned violent, injuring more than 30 people and killing 32-year-old Heather Heyer, whose last Facebook post before she joined the counter protest in Charlottesville read: “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.” Three days after the riots, asked about the violent protests in Charlottesville, Trump said that “you… had people that were very fine people, on both sides.” People took that, rightly, as Trump’s support for white supremacy and the gangs that advanced it, a support illustrated dramatically in summer 2020, when he and his attorney general, William Barr, used federal troops against peaceful Black Lives Matter protesters.

By spring 2017, there was another crisis on the horizon. The FBI was investigating the cooperation of Trump’s presidential campaign with Russian spies. Trump’s former National Security Adviser, retired lieutenant general Michael Flynn, had lied to the FBI about conversations with then-Russian Ambassador Sergey Kislyak, and Trump pressured then-FBI Director James Comey to stop the agency’s investigation of Flynn. When Comey refused, Trump fired him, prompting the deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein to appoint Special Counsel Robert Mueller (then-Attorney General Jeff Sessions had recused himself because he, too, had lied about conversations with Russians) to investigate the ties between Trump campaign officials and Russian operatives.

Both Mueller’s report and the report of the Republican-led Senate Intelligence Committee established that Russian operatives had interfered in the 2016 election to help Trump. They indicated that Trump campaign officials knew what the Russians were doing and were willing to accept their help. The Senate Intelligence Committee also noted that Trump’s campaign chair Paul Manafort gave sensitive internal information about the campaign to a Russian operative in Ukraine. Trump continued to call these allegations the “Russia hoax,” but observers noted that, for all his feuds with other leaders, he seemed oddly solicitous of Russian President Vladimir Putin.

Trump came to office with an expanding economy. In the first three years of his presidency, the economy continued to grow, in part because of tax cuts that slashed the corporate tax rate by 40%. Trump promised that these cuts would be “rocket fuel for our economy,” but economic growth stayed at about 2.9%, the same as it had been in 2015, and more than 60% of the benefits from the cuts went to those at the top 20% of the economic ladder. Even before the pandemic, Trump’s economic policies were projected to add about $10 trillion to the national debt by 2025, an increase of more than 50%.

And then the pandemic hit. Trump first downplayed the crisis, then insisted that Democrats demanding he address the crisis were overplaying it: he called it a Democratic “hoax.” The pandemic tanked the economy, undercutting his best argument for reelection, and by summer 2020 the administration had decided its best option was to reopen schools and the economy and to try to achieve herd immunity through infections. The result was a disaster. Today, on the last day of Trump’s administration, the number of Americans we have officially lost to Covid-19 has topped 400,000. That’s about the same number of people we lost in World War Two.

The pandemic threw about 22 million people out of work and forcing businesses into bankruptcy. As the faltering economy undercut Trump’s plans for reelection, he tried to destroy faith in mail-in ballots, trying to drive people to in-person voting sites. Then, when that didn’t work, he pushed the idea that Democrats would steal the election. Although his Democratic challengers Joe Biden and Kamala Harris won the 2020 election by more than 7 million popular votes and secured the Electoral College by a vote of 306 to 232, Trump and his supporters continued to insist the election was stolen.

On January 6, 2021, Trump and key members of his administration rallied his supporters to attack the counting of the certified electoral ballots for Biden and Harris. Encouraged by the president, the crowd marched to the Capitol with the plan of disrupting the vote. They overpowered the police, killing one officer; broke into the building; and came within a minute of taking our elected leaders hostage, or perhaps executing them on the gallows they built.

In the wake of the attack on the Capitol, the House of Representatives impeached Trump for the second time—the first was in 2019 after he withheld congressionally-approved money to Ukraine in an attempt to bully the newly-elected Ukraine president into announcing an investigation into Joe Biden’s son Hunter in the hopes of weakening Biden as a potential rival in the 2020 election.

So, Trump leaves the White House tomorrow facing a second Senate impeachment trial.

Trump has split the Republican Party. His true loyalists intend to turn America into a right-wing, white, Christian nation as embodied in the 1776 Report the administration released yesterday. In the last days of the administration, Trump’s Secretary of State Mike Pompeo is pretty clearly trying to position himself for a 2024 presidential run, tweeting from the official government account of the State Department a long list of what he considers his accomplishments. Others are likely planning to give him a run for his money. Today Senator Josh Hawley, under suspicion of inciting the January 6 rioters with his support for throwing out Biden’s Electoral College votes, slow-walked Biden’s nominee for Secretary of Homeland Security because Hawley objects to Biden’s plans to create a path to citizenship for undocumented immigrants.

Establishment Republicans are trying to regain control of the party. After the January coup attempt, some corporations announced they would no longer donate to Republicans who had voted to challenge the certified electoral votes, while others declared a moratorium on all political spending. The corporate turn against the Trump wing of the Republican Party strengthened the backbone of the establishment Republicans. Today Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) stood on the floor of the Senate and put Trump at the center of the January 6 attack on the Capitol. "The mob was fed lies," McConnell said. “They were provoked by the President and other powerful people."

But McConnell went on. He claimed that neither party has a broad mandate after the 2020 elections, which, he said, meant that the Democrats have no call to advance “sweeping ideological change.” He is referring, of course, to the plans of incoming President-Elect Biden and Vice President-Elect Kamala Harris, which he has every intention of stopping.

Today, President-Elect Joe Biden arrived at Joint Base Andrews. He traveled in a private plane since Trump refused to extend him the traditional courtesy of a military plane offered from an outgoing president to an incoming one. Trump will not attend Biden’s swearing-in; he will leave for Florida in the morning. In his place, three of the other living ex-presidents will be attending the inauguration: Republican George W. Bush, Democrat Bill Clinton, and Democrat Barack Obama. It’s a party of ex-presidents, together to emphasize the peaceful transition of power. Trump won’t be there.

The tide is already turning against him. Vice President Mike Pence has announced he will not be able to attend Trump’s farewell ceremony as he is attending Biden’s inauguration instead. House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy (R-CA) and McConnell—who will become minority leader tomorrow after the two new Democratic senators from Georgia are sworn in—are not going to see Trump off, either: they will be attending church with Biden before his inauguration.

Tomorrow at noon, President-Elect Joe Biden takes the oath of office. He intends to return the government to the principles the Democratic Party has held since the late nineteenth century: that the federal government has a role to play in responding to the needs of ordinary Americans. He has also embraced the traditional Democratic idea that the government should actually look like the people it represents. In an implicit rebuke of Trump’s white nationalism, he has tapped the most diverse set of officials in American history. They are also extraordinarily well-qualified and have many years of experience in government.

Biden and Harris have already outlined a very different administration than Trump’s. Their first task is to combat the coronavirus. Biden wants 100 million vaccinations in his first 100 days in office, and is mobilizing the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and the National Guard to make that happen. To rebuild the economy, they have advanced a coronavirus relief package designed to protect children, first, and then women and families. It calls for expanded food relief and rent and mortgage protection, as well as expanded unemployment benefits and a one-time relief payment.

Trump’s administration is, perhaps, ending where it began. This weekend, Russian opposition leader Alexei Navalny returned to Russia after his near-fatal poisoning by Putin’s agents in August. Upon his return to Russia, authorities immediately detained him. Trump refused to join other nations in condemning the poisoning, but yesterday, Senator Mitt Romney (R-UT) demanded that the U.S. hold Putin accountable for “the corruption and lawlessness of the Putin regime.” Joining Romney in calling for new sanctions against Russia were a range of senators from both parties.

The act is called the “Holding Russia Accountable for Malign Activities Act.”

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Quotes #political #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP #history #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #Lord of the Lies #authoritarianism #January 6 2021

4 notes · View notes

loreweaver-universe · 4 years

Photo

And that’s the episode.

I HAVE VERY MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT THIS.

On the one hand, a very large portion of the episode was extremely painful to watch. We’re talking, like, The New Lars levels of painful. I hated it while I was watching it. Watching my favorite ship get risked in a very in-universe stupid way was painful to watch. Like The New Lars, it was even in-character for Steven to do this, which is honestly...I’m not sure it’s worse than something like House Guest where Greg went OOC for the whole episode, but it certainly didn’t help.

Unlike, The New Lars, however...

The ending of this episode was great.

Connie gets it. Connie understands. Connie got scared and shocked, but instead of that harming the relationship, she reached out and told him she does love him but the time just isn’t now. This is the most on-screen affirmation of their love for one another we’ve ever had, and after that terrible moment where I watched the shock cross her face, it just all fell into place, and from then on everything was great about the episode. A perfect wind-down from the tension, a positive affirmation of their love, and one perfect final laugh to let all the lingering badness dissipate.

I’m really torn on how to rate this episode. I really think from an objective standpoint it was quite good, but it was also very painful to sit through. If I could split it up between pre-proposal and post-proposal...I almost would. As it stands, though, I think that because of the painful, long windup before that perfect throw, Together Forever comes in at my new #9 for Season 6 (between Bluebird and Guidance) and my new #79 overall (between, fittingly, Together Alone and Guidance.) It was really, REALLY hard to rank, and even now I’m not sure I put it in the right place, but I think that’s where I’m going to settle with it.

Up next for the liveblog is going to be the next episode of Steven Universe, Growing Pains. We’ll be doing that on Monday. Up next for streaming...well, I finished the Black Eagles campaign of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, so it’s back to other games. I think tomorrow I’m going to be streaming some Godhome attempts in Hollow Knight, with perhaps a Steel Soul attempt or two sprinkled in. You can see all of the Fire Emblem and Hollow Knight streams I’ve done by clicking either of those game names. See you there!

Before I go, though:

It feels wrong to say this, when everybody else is being sent home from work and worrying about their livelihoods, but I’m kind of just treading water myself. I make a little over $600 a month from this blog, and between rent, bills, and medicine, that runs out in a hurry. I have not been able to save up any money, even now that I have food stamps and Mainecare, and it’s getting to the point where I’m worried about my future if something serious goes wrong. If you can afford it, I’d really, really appreciate it if you could drop me a few dollars a month over at my Patreon. Anything you can pledge helps me out. There’s a lot fo you who read my blog on the regular; I don’t know how many are active accounts post-purge, but the blog has about 4500 followers. If even a fraction of you pledged a dollar per liveblog, it’d give me some breathing room to work with. Whatever you decide to do, if you decide to pledge, donate, or even just continue reading and watching my content, I appreciate each and every one of you. I’m so glad I can make a living entertaining people, and I hope to be able to afford to do so for a long time to come. Thank you.

IN OTHER NEWS:

I recently completed a blind playthrough of Hollow Knight on Twitch! You can watch all the Hollow Knight streams I’ve uploaded to Youtube by clicking here, or watch me stream other games live at my Twitch channel!

I recently completed a blind playthrough of Steven Universe: Save the Light on Twitch! You can watch all the Steven Universe streams that I’ve uploaded to Youtube by clicking here!

If you’d like to help me pay my rent, buy me some food, or help with my bills and medicine, please use my direct donation link! If you’d like to support me per liveblog completed every month, please pledge to my Patreon! Becoming a patron not only allows you to vote on what shows I do whenever I choose a new one, but also grants access to the community Minecraft server to $5 patrons or higher!

You should also go pledge to Gio’s Patreon–our Discord server maintenance tech, creator of Rubybot, and community Minecraft server overlord deserves far more than I can afford to pledge to him by myself.

If you’d like more of me and my content:

My Episode Lists master page, where you can find every show and liveblog I’ve done!

My Discord server, where you can come hang out with me and other fans, check out member liveblogs, and join community gaming guilds!

My Twitch channel, where I stream variety games every so often!

My Youtube channel, where you can check out past streams!

My ask blog, where you can send me questions and comments!

My Twitter, where I make announcements about liveblogs and streams!

It’s your kindness and support that lets me do this stuff, and I wouldn’t be where I am without all of you to do it for. Thank you all so much for your support, and for tuning in every episode!

OTHER PEOPLE YOU MAY ENJOY:

I may have been one of the earlier Steven Universe liveblogs, but a whole community of livebloggers has sprung up over the last three years! I linked to a bunch individually for a few wrap-ups, but honestly, this end-slate is already eight billion miles long, so I’m just gonna link to my links page. Click here if you want recommendations of other livebloggers, or other neat people, or webcomics and podcasts that I recommend.

#steven universe #steven universe future #suf #subloggin #bloggin #su173 #su episode 168 #episode wrap up

53 notes · View notes