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xstevex-world · 2 years

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(Part 1 of the pop star Chrissy AU)

“So what you’re saying is that you are 100% positive that I’ve spent my day with, not only an actual, real life international pop sensation; but the same Chrissy Cunningham that you have been fangirling over since senior year of high school?”

Robin hears Steve groan on the other end of the line. She can't blame him though, she’s made him explain her exact situation to her 3 times over.

“Yes Robin, that’s definitely her,” he sighs.

Robin falls back down on her bed, she can’t believe this. If she had been honest with herself, that entire day felt like a fever dream, a fantasy she had conjued up from weeks of sheer boredom. It was hard to ignore, the feeling that her day shared with her was a one time thing, especially after Chrissy apologetically declined to meet up with her the next day, saying she had to do work stuff.

Thinking about it, in retrospect, the signs were there. She had absolutely talked about how she worked in music and had been travelling a lot with it recently - yeah, Robin thought she was probably in a small band or was a session musician by the way she talked so casually about it.

But this? Shit, this whole situation she's found herself in? it’s like something out of those stupid romance novels her mom and Steve like talk about.

She always had it in her head that pop stars were meant to be over the top and flashy, but Chris just seamed so…sweet. She was listened to robin ramble on and on about everything and nothing, laughed loudly at her terrible jokes before giving her perspective or talking all about her own experiences

And when she smiled? She radiated happiness and joy as if she was the personification of the sun. There would be an etching of that smile in her brain for the rest of Robin's life.

“Robin!”’ His voices takes her out of her trace, grounding her in reality. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” is all she mandages to say.

“So you have two options,” Steve explains, and gods, she wishes he was here so she could at least see his eyes roll at her obvious awkwardness.

“The first is you just ignore that this whole meeting ever happened,” which, yeah is she absolutely not doing. Even if she never got to meet Chrissy again, at least she would still have the memory of meetng that deity of a human being.

“Or?” She asks, hoping that even 3637 miles away, Steve would be able to bring her down from her wild panic.

“Or; you listen to me and go see her.”

Steve has always been rather blunt, it’s what Robin likes so much about him. He tells her exactly what he means, no in between meaning to his statements.

“She’s playing a concert tomorrow night in the city, it’s probably why she said she couldn’t hang out tomorrow, she has sound checks and rehearsals and stuff," he explained, as if he knew her entire schedule (what was she kidding, he probably did.) "I'm going to get you a ticket, so you go to see her tomorrow night, enjoy the show, take a photo and dm her telling her how good her performance was, ok?”

He makes it sound so simple.

“But what if I go and do all this and it turns out that-“

“She’s straight? Robs, she’s very open about being bisexual-“

“No, dingus!” She yells into the receiver, running her hand through her hair. “What if I read the entire thing wrong and she was just being nice? I’m famously not good at reading the room and, for all I know, she could have thought this was just all a friendly thing that we have going? Like, listen to me Steve, I’m me, and if she’s the same pop sensation that you’ve talked drones about for as long as I’ve known you then what could she gain with a romantic endeavour with me? She could have anyone and not the person who she met yesterday who’s…”

“Who’s what, robs?”

She can’t answer that, knows if she says what she wants to that Steve will deny it, but she knows who she is - she’s annoying, too much all the time and knows that logically she wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice in friend, let alone girlfriend.

Sometimes she thinks it’s a miracle that Steve has been her friend for as long as he has.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he interrupts her inner monologue, voice softer than she’s used to with him. “But you have to stop thinking that you’re not good enough. The only person who’s allowed to talk shit about my best friend is me…and probably Erica, but I think she thinks you’re too cool to actually insult you much.”

Robins audibly snorts, falling back onto her bed.

As hard as it was being away from her family and the rest of their little friend groupd, the thing she misses the most is Steve. She was so used to having her platonic soulmate with her at all times, ready to latch onto for whatever the reason may be.

And right now? She could really use a hug, pecifically one from Steve "The Hair" Harrington.

“Robs, just trust me, she wouldn’t have spend they day following you around Paris is she wasn’t completely gone for you - she would have been at Disneyland with Corroded Coffin getting pictures with Darth Vader and shouting about how it's a capitalist utopia while eating the churros…" he pauses momentarily, and robin knows exactly what he's going to ask next. "...actually, speaking of, did she-?"

“Talk about Eddie Munson? Well, considering that I didn’t know that it was the same Eddie that you’ve had a raging boner over for the past year despite the fact-"

“Robin!”

“It’s true!” She yells, face now beaming from her laughter. “I’ll make you a deal, Stevie, if you plan works then I’ll put in a good word with Chrissy for you, she’s bound to know what gonna bring you into Munson’s raider-"

“Robin, stop!”

"-because I have some stories, Steve, and you’re lucky I was listening because if I didn’t like Chrissy so much I know wouldn’t remember, which would suck for you because i now know a few rather scandalous stories about the guy-"

“ROBIN!” Steve shouts through the receiver, making robin jump. “Focus!”

She shuts up, smiling to herself.

“I wish you were here, dingus,” she admits, rolling onto her stomach. “At least you’d be able to help me out, maybe, if this works, make sure I don’t pass out in front of her.”

“Of course it’s going to work” he states with every syllable oozing that signature Harrington’s smugness. “But only if you wear those plaid pants you have, the ones that hug your thighs in all the right places-“

“Gross, dingus!”

But sure enough, she listens, but if Steve’s right about one thing it’s how to leave a lasting impression, especially in the “you look good” department.

So, the following evening, she dons blue, plaid pants with a plain black tank, slicks back her hair using whatever hair products Steve left during his last visit and makes up her face: brushing electric blue pigments onto her eyelids before smudging kohl against her waterline.

It takes her serval pep talks in the mirror to finally convince herself to actually leave the apartment, but she did it, managed to walk to the venue and wait, nursing her beer whilst leaning against the against the back wall.

Robin kind of regrets not tagging along to all the Chrissy Cunningham concerts that Steve invited her too in the past, maybe then she would know what to expect.

(Or, maybe then, she wouldn’t be in this exact situation, but who was she kidding, of course she would be, nothing straight forward ever happens to her).

The entire thing is overwhelming, the venue has been crowded since before she arrived, (since it was well after the opening act ended) which really isn’t her scene. She’s already nervous and her hands won't stop shaking and she's about to call it quits, text Steve that she'll pay him back for the tickets in actual money rather than their original plan and walk out the doors of the theater where she can crawl back into bed and scream into her pillow-

The lights dim, and everyone around starts screaming as the first notes of the synth play, Chrissy's voice carrying through the room.

Robin can't help but stare, she's so beautiful, stunningly gorgeous with the voice of an angel, she doesn't even notice the rest of the band join her one by one or the two dancers who have a hand on Chrissy's shoulder. She doesn't even realise the opening number has finished, can't pay attention to anything other than the cascading curls of chrissys hair, the way her body moves in one with the music, the same smile that struck her heart in the first place- the smile that shines brighter than any spotlight ever could.

She doesn't register much, barely hears anything other than Chrissy sing about new moons, staying when she shouldn't or sending her love to Wayne; songs she know she's probably heard before, probably from (just being in close proximity to steve Harrington), but none of that matters, shes memorised by her.

And when the final act is coming to a close, she almost misses it, but she can feel eyes on her even this far to the back of the crowd.

Robin only meets Eddie Munson’s eyes for a second, impossibly wide eyes staring her down in disbelief before seeing his cue to exit the stage. She almost drops her half-drank pint, a string of curses running through her head - but the whole interaction has her frozen.

Her brain tells her to "RUN! GET OUT!" before it escalates any further, the churn of pure anxiety in her stomach reminding her that this was a stupid plan, she shouldn't have come. She cant do this, won't do this-

She leaves before lights go black.

⭐💘🎫🎤🎫💘⭐

So thank you all so much for the support on the first post, I was not expecting it to get traction buy you all loved it??? My heart is swelling omfg. Thank you for being patient with me with this part (I'm dyslexic and work full time, on top of just being very slow at producing, well, anything lol).

I'm hoping to have either 5 or 6 parts altogether if you guys keep enjoying it ((sorry not sorry to make you steddie fans sit through the Buckingham part first, Robin needs to get her girl!!!))

Shout out to my gf (who's not an st fan) for beta reading this with comments like "is Robin a useless lesbian?" Or "do they really say dingus in the show?" Or "wow, she really needs some loops!"

As a bonus treat, the concert playlist can be found here! Included are songs that represent or resemble the tracks on the set list of the gig that Robin goes too see (including the CCxCC material that would be played as the encore in the final three songs)

Taglist (if you wish to be added, I just ask you be polite about it x): @maya-custodios-dionach @papermachedragons @mildgendercrisis @vampiregirl1797 @lizard-dyk3 @hellomynameismoo @beckkthewreck @eboyawstenn @justmiiriam @gregre369 @korixae @victor-thee-corvid @yes-im-your-mom @bisexualdisastersworld @questionablequeeries

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hypnotherapy-blog-blog · 7 months

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The Black Bag - Part 1.

The Black Bag.

Rob Hadley

Introduction.

When I wrote The Black Bag I had it in mind that many of the people likely to read it would already have a knowledge of Tarot. However, that’s proved to have been a miscalculation. I have been pleased to see many readers have a curiosity about Tarot, but not much familiarity with it. As a result, I often suggest readers step into this journey with a Tarot deck at hand. It will help you see the cards mentioned, and to participate in a manner that gives you a deeper connection to the story. Each reader, does after all, have their own relationship to the cards. Indeed each card relates to each reader differently. As you make your way through these pages, perhaps you will have insights that will make the story unique for you.

My intent is for you to enjoy these pages, and maybe pick up a few ideas along the way. I don’t propose for an instant that any given card has set or established meanings. My own view is that context is everything. The cards tend to match up with your own particular situation and can have very different meanings at different times. I hope you’ll enjoy this journey. Feel free to reach out to me and let me know your own experiences.

My best wishes as you embark on this journey,

Rob Hadley

[email protected]

The Black Bag

By Rob Hadley

C.2024

It is fair to say that the one person you least expect to see following your mother’s funeral is your mother. Yet, as Grahame Bickerton stepped out of the small chapel and into the daylight and looked across the well tended gardens he was shocked to find himself staring at a figure in the distance that bore an unmistakeable resemblance to the very person he had just witnessed being extended that last of human dignities.

The coffin had slid silently away behind the curtain in the funeral home, and he’d been shocked to find himself craning to see the final glimpse as it moved irresistibly into the cremation chamber. And yet here, across this beautifully laid out garden there seemed to be someone that could be his very own mother sitting in mournful contemplation by one of the gravestones, their back to him.

Grahame felt a hand on his sleeve and turned. It was the only other person that had been at the service. An elderly woman with a cane, bent almost double, the result of some form of spinal deformity. The woman spoke to him gently, her eyes moist with tears.

“I will miss you mother,” she said. “I feel your loss.”

“You’re very kind,” said Grahame trying not to be too dismissive but wanting to pull away and see the woman in the distance more clearly. She’d got up and was walking away.

“I used to work with her you know, at the college. Geography,” she said. “She spoke of you regularly.”

“Geography?” replied Grahame, completely lost.

“I teach Geography at the college. We used to have tea together often,” she continued.

Grahame didn’t wish to be rude and turned and tried to catch sight of the person in the garden, but she was hurrying away.

“If I can help,” she said, “you can find me at the college.”

Grahame pulled away and started walking across the gardens leaving the old woman staring after him as he strode away.

“Poor man,” she said to herself leaning on her cane. “He’s obviously terribly upset.”

Grahame hurried across the lawns in the direction of the woman he had seen. Soon he stopped. The crows were rising from some trees by the seat the woman had been sitting on but was gone from view now. It was almost as if she’d never been there. He walked on, but after a few moments realised it was no good. He couldn’t see which way she’d gone.

“Christ,” he muttered, then thinking more clearly calmed himself.

“I have to get a grip,” he said to himself. “This is ridiculous, I’m a bloody engineer, dammit.”

With that Grahame dismissed the notion that anything out of the norm had happened. He was obviously overreacting.

+++

It was mid morning several weeks later when Grahame received the call from the car dealership. The fall sunlight cast the city in a flat light that lacked the warmth of the summer so recently ended. He stood looking out of his meagre office at the glass towers of the downtown core and the cranes that perched beside every spare inch of buildable space.

How very different those offices were from his own. From the office beside his he could hear his boss shouting down the phone at one of the project planners. The congestion on the road today was holding things up for everybody. He was well aware that they were pouring concrete on several projects today, and with those cement trucks stranded in the unexpected traffic chaos caused by this morning’s power outage there was sure to be hell to pay. As luck would have it none of his teams were pumping today, so while the atmosphere in the office would be toxic, it didn’t directly affect any of his people.

He’d been lucky, pacing himself lately. The recent death of his mother had forced him to scale back some of his work commitments. As the executor of the will there were assets to be disposed of, taxes to pay, and all the administrative chaos that accompanies the end of life. And that brought him back to the phone call. It had been the dealership he’d taken his mother’s old Town Car to. She’d loved that vehicle, but it had no business being on the road with gas prices the way they are today. Getting rid of it had been the only thing to do, and yet in spite of his having thoroughly cleaned the vehicle before leaving it at the second hand car lot, the manager had called and informed him that they’d found some old playing cards and some journals when the car was made ready for sale.

“We didn’t want to toss them out,” said the manager. “They may be something you want.”

The manager had sounded awkward. He was aware the car had been Grahame’s mother’s vehicle, being acquainted with old lady. He’d been servicing the car since he’d joined the dealership over a decade previously.

A phone slammed down in the cubicle beside his and Grahame winced. Did the workplace have to be so toxic, he wondered. Looking at his diary he could see he didn’t need to be here at present, and if he were to walk the dozen blocks to the car lot he could get away early and then slip home to work the rest of the day from there.

He placed a file into his brief case and made for the door. His boss was already on the phone to the next project manager, wringing his hands and looking intently at the screen of his laptop and chewing his lip, a nervous habit he’d nursed every day since Grahame had joined the company. He nodded as he made his way out of the building but went by unnoticed. As he walked out across the car park he felt the sun on his face and a sense of relief in his heart. It was good to be out of the cramped office space.

He loved the city, and being part of the construction trade he was enjoying the fruits of a building boom, but it wasn’t lost on him that he worked for a small consultancy firm, and the glass palaces of downtown were far from his reality. The firm he worked for may be part of the construction team, but he was under no illusions about the work. Twice in the last year his boss had been forced to ask his staff to wait a week for their wages, and if his suspicions were correct, it would happen again. In the hierarchy of the building trade, the company he was working for was not what anyone would describe as a highflyer.

He walked smartly across town, the sound of horns blaring a fitting backdrop to the stationary traffic. Another set of lights up ahead had blown out and a crew was struggling to get their vehicle to somewhere they could work on the switchgear.

Grahame tuned out the sound of the city. He thought of his mother, and that he’d only seen her three times in the year prior to her death. They’d had dinner back in April, and then he had driven out to the cottage in mid summer, and then Rose had told him she was going in for some tests. She seemed unworried about it at the time, and he hadn’t really thought much of it.

Deconstructing things later Grahame realised that Rose had suffered in silence for some time before having these tests run. Indeed by the time pancreatic cancer was diagnosed it was already far advanced. She had suffered briefly, and Grahame had visited, but soon after that last time she had succumbed, slid into a coma and within two weeks had died leaving a great chasm in Graham’s life. A chasm he promptly filled with his own guilt for not being a better son, and more available to his mother.

He was being too hard on himself, but that was nothing new.

+++

At the car dealership the manager had placed the collection of journals and other bits and pieces in a large envelope for Grahame to collect. He walked into reception and the young lady on the desk reached beneath her desk and passed it to him, recognising him from previous visits. Grahame thanked her and took the package, then decided he’d walk home through the park.

There was little point returning to the office today. He didn’t feel up to working, and the traffic chaos of the morning would soon be merging with the afternoon rush hour, as people tried to leave work early to beat the rush.

Taking a moment to sit in the sunshine he stopped at a park bench and opened the package. It contained three journals, all closely handwritten in his mothers handwriting, and one small black bag. He drew this out and inspected it. Inside he found some cards, but not the playing cards you’d expect an old lady to have should she find herself compelled to get into a game of gin rummy. These were altogether more colorful, and well used.

He inspected them and realised that these were tarot cards. He had no idea his mother had an interest in tarot. While not something he had any knowledge of, Grahame recognised some of the symbols on the cards as he rifled through them. He found the cards strangely puzzling, feeling rather like he’d discovered something secret. He slid the blag bag back into the envelope continued his journey home. They were a mystery he would examine further at a later date.

As he walked he lamented the fact that he had few of his mothers belongings, even though he was her sole heir. The reality was that his small modern apartment was hardly a suitable venue for an ancient armoire, or dining table for eight people.

When he emerged out of the far side of the park he was only a couple of blocks from his apartment. Walking to work today had been a good choice, even here the traffic was log jammed.

+++

The loss of his sole surviving parent had forced something of a pause in Graham’s life. It was a moment in which he was compelled to take stock and look at where he was.

He had recently ended a fruitless relationship of eighteen months. It had been a perfunctory affair, neither very passionate nor disastrous, but lacking in so many of the things he felt his life needed.

They’d found each other online, were both ‘self actualised professionals looking to share all life has to offer,’ according to their dating profiles, but were neither very self actualised (he still wasn’t sure what that meant) nor very willing to share very much. He’d decided he didn’t really trust the person he was dating, and realised she didn’t trust him either. They’d decided to ‘have a two week break’ two months ago and he hadn’t heard from her since.

Surprisingly he didn’t miss the woman either. It was as if the relationship had not really happened at all. And he felt no compulsion to reconnect.

If he were quite honest with himself it was much the same with his job. He’d been working as a project manager for several years, and it paid reasonably well. While his job didn’t excite him, it provided security enough for him to live in the city, pay a disturbingly high proportion of his income in rent, and to own a car that he could drive at barely 20 miles an hour anywhere he chose. And then pay a fortune for parking. Like the relationship, his job didn’t fill him with passion either.

Grahame was gradually coming to the conclusion that there were patterns emerging in his life that didn’t fill him with joyful expectation. In his mid thirties he had expected something more of life. Was this really it?

These were Grahame’s thoughts as he walked alongside the stationary traffic and glanced at the frustrated drivers in their little tin boxes. Just a few blocks from home Grahame watched an episode play out before him.

A driver in a Jeep was blowing his horn at a car in front. The yellow haired woman sat in a little pale blue convertible, studiously ignoring the increasingly insistent honking. Judging by the body language the young lady had not had a good day, sitting arms crossed and lips pursed determined to ignore the blaring of the horn behind.

“Hey lady,” came the voice. A tee shirt clad young man, physically toned and cocksure, leaned from his car window and called to her.

Finally having had enough, the young woman, her hair tightly curled up in a bun, turned in her seat and shouted back at the man, “For god’s sake! I have a boyfriend!”

She then turned and sat, arms folded defiantly in the stationary traffic, red faced and flustered now with her eyes locked on the licence plate before her. At that instant a gap opened in the lane beside her and the jeep bucked forward and pulled alongside her for a moment as vehicles shifted in the Tetris game of traffic flow.

“Lady, I just wanted to tell you,” said the man, a little more gently now, “You have a flat tire.”

Taken aback, the young woman checked behind her to see that the traffic was not moving, and then stepped out of her car to take a closer look. She wore a smart pencil skirt and lemon blouse, the picture of propriety. She came back a moment later and sat behind the wheel looking perplexed.

She seemed nonplussed for a moment, and then composing herself turned and politely addressed the man in the jeep.

“Can you help me fix it?” she called across the traffic lane.

The young man lit up a cigarette in a slow languid style, and then said, “Like you said, lady. You’ve got a boyfriend.”

The traffic shifted and the Jeep advanced progressing up the line of cars.

Grahame, abreast of the little convertible looked at the woman, and saw the tears welling up in her eyes. He guessed she’d maybe not fixed a tire before. And with so many cars around she would be stuck blocking traffic before long as the tire deflated. He knew that on any other day he would have gone with his old habits and just not got involved, but today was just a little different.

“Would you like a hand?” he asked softly.

“That would be so kind,” said the woman, relief spreading across her face. Suddenly she didn’t seem quite so prickly.

“Just pull in to one of the spaces up here,” said Graham. “I live a block up the road, I’ll help you change the tire. Just let me go up to my apartment and change out of my office clothes. I won’t be more than five minutes.”

“That’s so kind of you,” said the young woman. “You’re like a real knight in shining armour.”

“Well, not really. But I can change a tire. Give me five minutes and I’ll be back.”

With that he left her and hurried toward his apartment.

+++

Grahame hurried along the street, the sound of construction crowding in on him after the quiet of the park. That poor woman, he thought. Some men really could be thoughtless.

He hurried into his apartment, tossed the envelope carelessly onto the coffee table, as if by reflex turned on the kettle to boil water for a cup of tea and went to his bedroom. A moment later he’d got out of his work suit and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater.

He turned and was about to hurry down to the street to help the woman change her tire, when he noticed the envelope had spilled its contents across the surface of the coffee table.

Not wanting to keep the woman downstairs waiting, he casually glanced at the table. Cards were slewed across the flat surface in an arc. It looked almost artistic. One card lay face up.

Grahame glanced at it, and then retrieved his keys and made for the door. As he stepped out of the elevator on the ground floor, the front door of the building opened and his neighbour, old Mrs. Willoughby entered the vestibule.

At that moment there was a terrible crashing sound from outside. Mrs. Willoughby turned and looked out at the street, a startled look of shock on her face.

Grahame rushed to the door and stared out to see what on earth had happened. Cars were stopped now, honking and people climbing from them and rushing back down the road. It took only a moment for Grahame to realise the sound had come from the building site on the next block, just by where he could see the woman’s car pulled over.

He hurried toward the car, and as he got closer realised this was the centre of the commotion. The woman was standing back, leaning against the siding at the edge of the construction site. He hurried to her side.

The little blue convertible was wrecked. It lay smashed beneath a series of scaffolding poles, looking as though it had been speared in some ghastly hunt.

White faced and shocked the woman stood back, shocked but unharmed, against the siding.

“Good god, what happened?” he said to her after he’d pushed his way through the crowd.

People were looking up, staring at a crane’s hook and some chain suspended seventy feet above the road. A man with a hard hat came barrelling out of the building site and rushed to the car. By-standers were already photographing the wrecked car, and posting them to social media on their phones.

“Was anyone hurt?” the workman was asking in panic, looking around wildly.

“Are you ok?” Grahame said, steadying the woman with a kindly hand.

“I’m ok,” she said rapidly. “I’m ok!”

She was white faced and shaking. Grahame turned to the assembled crowd and said, “Does anyone have some water?”

A bottle was developed and passed to the woman.

Grahame turned to the crowd and asked, “Who saw what happened?”

Several voices piped up. Grahame looked at the man in the hardhat and said, “Are you the foreman?”

He nodded nervously.

“Thank god no one was hurt,” he replied. “You’d better get these people’s statements. The police will be along soon. It’s going to make things a lot better if people are able to describe it.”

The foreman nodded and corralled the witnesses while Grahame turned back to the woman.

“You’re going to need a cup of tea, aren’t you,” he said gently. “Let’s get you out of here and calm things down.”

Grahame handed his card to the foreman, and one of the witnesses.

“When the cops show up can you let them know she’s at my place up the road,” said Grahame.

There was sympathetic nod and Grahame and the woman pressed their way through the crowd and made their way down the block to his apartment building.

+++

Grahame made the tea as his frightened guest sat in the open plan living room.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” said Graham, wanting to keep the woman talking.

“I’m Sunshine,” she said. “And that’s my mother’s car.”

“Oh, dear,” he said. “It’s a very nice little car. Well, it was. How did you come to be unharmed? I mean, it looks like a hell of a mess.”

Grahame poured the tea and placed a cup and saucer before Sunshine.

“I stepped out of the car to look at the tire, and that’s when it happened,” she said. “There was just this rush of air, and a terrible sound. Like bells ringing, and then those scaffolding poles all around me.”

“What a thing to happen,” Grahame said.

“I guess,” she replied beginning to calm down. “I could have been killed.”

She sipped the tea, her hand still trembling. That was when Sunshine started sobbing.

+++

The statement to the police, a visit from the foreman and an exchange of documents all took time and Sunshine seemed to go through the process in a daze. She was glad to be somewhere quiet and safe, and Grahame remained largely quiet in the background as the questions were asked and answered. It was a terribly unfortunate accident, but as the police officer pointed out, no one was hurt. The insurance companies would sort out the wrecked car which was now safely off the road. The construction company manager said the company would be up to their necks in investigations, but seemed co-operative, almost as upset by the whole situation as Sunshine was herself.

“That could have been my own daughter,” said the manager as Grahame had shown him out. It happened that he knew Grahame from the local planning department meetings that he’d sometimes have to attend for his company.

“Terrible thing,” he’d said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Those clamps don’t just fail.”

“Thank heavens no one was hurt,” echoed Graham.

+++

At length the police officer left, and they found themselves alone in the quiet apartment. Noticing the journals and the tarot cards on the table, Sunshine asked, “What’s this?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just some things of my mother’s,” replied Graham.

“Don’t you see it?” said Sunshine, looking at the upturned card.

“What do you mean,” said Graham.

“You don’t think it looks like all those scaffolding poles that fell on my car?” said Sunshine as she picked up the card.

Grahame stared at the card. The Eight of Wands. He wondered what it meant.

“I suppose,” said Graham. “It’s really not my thing,” he added and then as an afterthought said, “I’m an engineer.”

Sunshine looked at the card once more, and then at Grahame trying to find the link between not being able to see the visual connection and being an engineer. She failed.

“I wonder what made you turn over this particular card then,” she said. “Probably something subconscious.”

“I didn’t pick that card. I mean, I just left some things on the table, they just fell like that, and then I came down to help you.”

“And that was before you heard the crash,” asked Sunshine with newly sparked curiosity.

“Yes,” replied Graham, noticing for the first time how the image in the card did look a little like the scaffolding poles.

“That’s quite the coincidence,” murmured Sunshine.

“Oh, I doubt it,” said Graham. “There’s probably no end of these cards look like falling scaffolding.”

His voice trailed off as he realised how he sounded. Sunshine picked up the cards and started shuffling them.

“So, your mother’s into tarot?” asked Sunshine.

“No. Well, yes,” stammered Graham.

“I see,” said Sunshine.

“I mean she died,” said Graham. “And these were among her things. I should sort them out. I don’t really know anything about the cards.”

Sunshine looked at the journals, and then asked, “Were you close?”

“Not as close as I wish we had been,” replied Graham.

“So, you never knew she was interested in Tarot?”

“Never had a clue,” confessed Graham.

Sunshine turned the cards over in her hands and then said, “You’re lucky then. This gives you a chance to get to know her through the cards.”

The words hung in the air.

“What do you mean,” asked Graham.

“Look at these cards,” she said. “You can see they’ve been well used. These are quite old. Well used. Your mother must have been adept at the cards. Can’t you see it? There’s a lot of her in these particular cards.”

An awkward silence fell between them as Grahame thought about this. It was true, the journals and these cards were like a voice reaching out across the abyss of death. They were a connection.

The silence was broken by the chirp of Sunshine’s cell phone.

She looked at the display and then said, “Mother. This might be a little awkward.”

___________________________________________

If you've enjoyed Part 1 of The Black Bag I ask that you follow my Tumblr and reblog it. To read Part 2 simply go to my Patreon HERE.

Many Thanks

#daily tarot #tarot readings #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #free tarot #tarot community #tarot deck #tarot spreads #tarot witch #tarotdaily #fiction #short story #serial fiction #druid

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wannab-urs · 11 months

Text

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 25

Hi Friends!!

It has been... a week. I didn't get a whole lot of reading done. But I did absolutely adore every single thing I read this week. I think, if I can count, I read 12 new fics this week. Also tried out yet another new format: Author summaries (or my quick one if there wasn't one) included with the rec.

As always you can find all of my previous fic recs here. Feel free to tag me in your fics and I'll add them to my TBR (please understand that my TBR is long as hell and it might take a while for me to get to it)

Fic recs below the (baby) Pedro!

Me and My Husband a Din series by @beskarandblasters

Summary: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

This is the first married!Din series I’ve ever seen (not saying it doesn’t exist, but I haven’t seen it), so this is for my infidelity loving Din Girlies. I love how awkward and just plain bad at flirting Din is in this. And you’ll hear this a lot from me in my reblogs but POOR MAY!! I’m so excited for the rest of this series.

Oh, Honey a Joel series by @lincolndjarin

Summary: you’ve been given a gift. a fresh start in a brand new place, the sleepy little town of Honey, WV. a distant aunt has passed away and left you a little plot of land and her camper, the stars must be aligning for you because the local mortician is looking for an assistant and you’re desperate for the work experience. your new employer even offers to set you up with her brother-in-law! things are looking up, you’ve got a brand new home, a new town, a hot date, (and thanks to a series of bear attacks that started immediately after your arrival) you have more than enough work to keep you busy!

Oh look Gin is reading another monsterfucking fic…. Shocker. But anywayyyy, I love the buildup in this. It’s got such a good suspenseful plot. And I love that reader goes a lil off the rails and everyone is fuckin gaslighting her aghhhhhh. Oh also baby Ellie is in this and that is adorable. The lore and the worldbuilding in this are to die for, I feel like I’m reading a mystery novel.

A Heart For Eating a Joel series by @motherofagony

Summary: a vicious raider attack robs you of human connection and lights a fire of destruction in your life in jackson. joel's fixated on you, and your lives tangle. revenge becomes a needful thing.

I love Joel’s characterization in this so much. He’s a grumpy bastard, but he’s got that wonderful protective caregiver thing going on. If you’re a fan of some mild love as consumption, injured men (and taking care of them (joel)), christ side wounds, and gorgeous storytelling this is the one.

Go Ahead, I dare ya a Javi P two shot by @chronically-ghosted

Summary: 1. No sex. 2. No touching yourself. 3. No orgasms. 4. No murdering your annoying DEA partner. A Javier Peña-shaped riff on that iconic Star Wars fic.

The TENSION!!!! The BUILDUP!!!! This fic drove me crazy dude. It’s so will they won’t they the whole fucking time right up until they do. Javi is perfectly written and reader is a perfect match for his bullshit.

Wet Work a Frankie one shot by @loversandantiheroes

Summary: Frankie accidentally discovers how to make you squirt

I???? It’s a fic where Frankie makes you squirt three times like what else do I even have to say? It’s on your kitchen table! And you call him a good boy! This fic is devastatingly hot.

Frankie Breathplay Drabble a Frankie drabble by @ozarkthedog

Summary: Frankie chokes you while you ride him

Got tagged in this lovely little drabble and ummmm oh my god? Breathplay is a little bit of an understatement for what this is. It borders on dark!frankie (in my personal opinion), which I adore. He’s choking you out while you ride him. Like that’s what’s happening. Asphyxiation but make it sexy.

Real Gods Require Blood a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

Summary: You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears. His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

CULT JOEL! CULT JOEL!!! I love how fucking scary Joel is in this. It’s like if the stuff that happened to canon joel got all mixed up with some religious trauma and made him go a little crazy. I loved this so much. It was quietly terrifying, beautifully written. I love the ending so much too… not gonna spoil it but AHHHH

The Locksmith a The Thief series by @oonajaeadira

Summary: A Thief you’ve known for years and have conflicting feelings for brings you a gift. The gift is a not only a puzzle in itself, but part of a larger mystery, one only you can crack.

I’m like 3 or 4 chapters into this series and I love it so much. The Thief with a locksmith reader is just such a good idea and I love how he ropes her into situations. He’s such a smooth talker ugh. The opera chapter? Pls. I gotta go finish this series now actually AH.

The Haunting of Dieter Bravo a Dieter one shot by @idolatrybarbie

Summary: "ghosts aren't real, except when they are."

As a paranormal horror slut, it really felt like this fic was written for me… (f’me, if you will, Bea). Dieter being Dieter and reader being done with his shit and then they get HAUNTED. I love it. The suspense is so good. I was actually a lil freaked out.

Everyone at this party's a vampire a Dieter one shot by @idolatrybarbie

Summary: "you look so pretty like this."

This is funny because Dieter is an idiot, but reader is so hot??? Anyway sexy vampire lady lures Dieter’s dumbass into getting murked and it’s wonderful.

Intimidation Tactics a Dave/Marcus P series by @whataperfectwasteoftime

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, are investigating a case that brings you far too close to something much more dangerous than your average art thief.

I haven’t quite finished this yet (actually just got to the big action scene), but I am so in love with this fic. I already adore the way Penny writes Marcus, but then we get her Dave too. And Dave has all these elements of movie Dave – badass, sexy, a little scary – but we also get to see him be sweet and protective and playful and I love it so much. And then also I think everyone knows I’m a big ol slut for a MMF fic and the dynamic between Marcus and Dave is so fucking good. Little baby enemies to lovers plotline and GOD their chemistry is off the charts.

Just Friends a Javi P two shot by @joelsgreys

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

I really love the way Vee writes Javi, man. He’s arrogant, annoying, rude, snarky… but also protective, sweet, and very ummmm giving. The banter is fuckin unmatched. And the mutual pining? PLEASE. I’m obsessed.

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Apologies to anyone whose series I normally keep up with... I've been a lil scatterbrained.

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

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin fics #frankie morales fics #javier pena fics #javi p fics #joel miller fics #dave york fics #marcus pike fics #dieter bravo fics #the thief fics

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faetaiity · 2 years

Text

Haven’t seen someone do this before but

Evil! ROTTMNT AU headcannons

TW: Murder, Mentions of drugs, weapons, explosives, mentions that April might be dead, the turtles and Splinter being pricks for the most part.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crime rate is so fucking high In New York because the turtles literally just rob and attack/kill people 💀

There’s a night-time curfew, you NEED to be indoors by 9pm

Murder victims are found brutally beaten, sadly this damages the View of Mutants in the public’s eye

Surviving victims often refuse to talk about it, only muttering about mutant turtles…

In this AU, they follow the traditional Ninja occupation

Aka Trained assassins and spies

In this AU they work closely with the Foot, Draxum, and Big mama (They also cause tension between said groups because they’re little shits)

Going out after the Curfew ends up in disaster 9 times out of 10.

April isn’t friends with them in this AU and could possibly be dead.

The reader in said AU probably won’t meet them in a kind way.

Even seeing them could be a death sentence

Surviving said encounter makes them more interested in you because they tend to harm their victims pretty badly

I mean, you still had sprains from running, and small cuts from a Kunai barely hitting you, almost missing you entirely

if you manage to survive you kinda have to deal with coming home to your apartment and seeing them

After getting to know them, or you just kicking them out, they tend to stalk you if you have to go outside at night

Meaning you’re off limits to Draxum, Big mama and the foot clan

Sometimes they just come up next to you and scare you before laughing and asking how you’re doing

After awhile you get used to this, and end up spending time with them

It’s alarming when you find various trinkets and stashes in your apartment

Weapons, drugs, explosives, machinery, anything illegal you could think of.

They don’t really care if you take any of this but I wouldn’t recommend it.

Because even if they don’t care, the people they’re getting it for, definitely will.

The mutants that are the villains in the original universe aren’t aggressive in this AU

you’d probably end up befriending them

Keep them far away from the turtles and Splinter

Now for Individual headcannons

Mikey is almost always in a similar personality to ‘Dr. Delicate Touch’, it’s basically the norm, honestly this man is fucking insane, sorry not sorry

Leo is the trickster, he’s the one who plays pranks that can end in missing limbs if he’s you’re enemy, I feel like he would be really good at training attack dogs, total flirt.

Raph is,,,, Similar to 2012 Raph, aggressive, mean and not the greatest to be around if you like to push buttons, He’s made you flinch before just for the fun of it, after that he does it all the time and thinks it’s the funniest shit ever

Donnie,,,, where the FUCK do I begin with Donnie.

His brothers try to keep you out of striking distance with him, loose canon, absolute wild card of a mad scientist

He’s also experimented on misbehaving Foot members but anyway-

You probably get introduced to Splinter at some point

Does not go well.

He left you with a dislocated arm

Needless to say, you don’t go to the lair after that

They stopped knocking on your window after a few days and just break in unannounced.

First time that happened you had a friend over, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife

Mainly because Mikey was halfway through the window and your friend was staring bug-eyed at them

Donnie almost tased them, so, like any normal human, they freaked the fuck out and left your apartment running

Donnie thought it was the funniest shit ever

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Augh I love dark AU’s and I dunno if anyone else has something similar so I made this!!!

They are the men fr

I will probably accept rqs for the Dark AU, I’m just bored lmao

#rottmnt #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt x reader #donnie x reader #raph x reader #mikey x reader #leo x reader #Dark! ROTTMNT AU

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stuckinapril · 10 months

Note

is it bad to cut off people or avoid certain places/apps due to trauma and bad experiences?

it depends.

one thing i find flawed about giving binary takes is no actual human situation is binary. if you’re in danger, like someone abusing you physically or verbally, totally reasonable. i would never try to reason w someone who actually has the capacity to harm me. i’d just get the fuck out of there asap.

i have a way stricter moral code when it comes to people i’d consider close or at the very least good friends. i generally find it anti-ethical to cut friends off without giving an explanation. i feel like people on tiktok have repackaged it as “confidence” “cutting toxicity out” etc etc, but to me it just comes off as social ineptitude / blatant disregard for other people’s feelings. there’s nothing wrong gradually growing distant w someone, but to out of nowhere cut contact w them betrays a lack of empathy and patience. i’d never do that unless given a pretty extreme reason to. same goes w misunderstandings or disagreements: if there’s room for communication, i always choose that route. i really dislike the “we don’t owe anyone anything” mentality when it comes to people—we very much owe a lot of people a lot of things, first of all common decency. i also always try to treat people the way i’d like to be treated. if i wouldn’t want to be spontaneously cut off by someone i value without an explanation, i’m not going to do it to someone else.

as for avoiding certain things—totally valid. this will sound like a dumb example, but when my ex and i broke up i still shared this spotify playlist w him that he didn’t unadd. he knew i loved that playlist and would update it frequently. just the fact that we shared that one silly thing reminded me of him / made me think of reconciling. i don’t play that game anymore. if i want to be done w someone for good, i will clear them out from pretty much everything & obviously will never check their socials again. i don’t leave room for little things to slow down my moving on process.

i will say though that i don’t let people ruin things for me long term. i have a couple of favorite songs my ex recommended me, but just bc they came from him doesn’t mean i’ll stop listening to them. don’t let this person rob you of things you enjoy. form new associations instead, like your love for these things / maybe new memories w someone who does value and love you in the present.

if you’re tempted to hit them up again, are romanticizing them, are remembering their good far more than their bad, make a notes app list of all their shortcomings. it’s nice to have something written down to refer to for when you miss them on a lonely night or have your rose-colored glasses on. that combined w cutting contact should have you over them in like two weeks. but you have to be strict w your no contact !! no sneak peaks whatsoever. good luck friend, i believe in u

#ask

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fkitwebhaal · 8 months

Text

Fic: Extracted Notes from the Journal of One of the Saviors of Baulder's Gate.

IN CASE OF COMPLETE MEMORY LOSS

SECTION: PEOPLE YOU NEED TO KNOW

LAST UPDATED: 1494 DR

Shadowheart: half-elf, black hair usually kept in a braid

Cleric: don’t know what God, doesn’t want to talk about it. You’re 75% sure you know who it is, but writing it down might get her in trouble, so you’re gonna have to start from scratch. Sorry.

I’d give you a hint and say it’s a God you don’t like, but you don’t like any Gods.

Saved her from a pod in Natoiloid. She’s grateful about it.

It wasn’t hard to do, don’t think too much of yourself for it.

Likes Night Orchids and can’t swim.

You don’t know if you can swim and you’re not sure how to find out. Ask Wyll?

Lae’zel: Githyanki, usually found attending to her weapons at camp

Fighter: You also met her on the nautiloid

Note: she’s Githyanki. They’re from the Astral plane, have a lot of experience with Mind Flayers. She’ll tell you more about them if you ask but she might be mad you forgot so specify you forgot due to your brain, not because you didn’t listen.

Honest.

Probably as confused as you are but hides it better.

You have an unofficial system that if you don’t know something everyone else knows, she’ll nod if she knows, and she’ll tell you about it later and vice versa. You have never discussed this agreement, it’s just a thing.

Once confused one of your headaches for turning into a Mind Flayer. If it happens again, remind her of the scar on your head. Unless you’re actually turning into a mindflayer in which case, let her kill you; she’ll be quick about it.

Don’t leave her and Shadowheart alone together, they’ll either kill each other or fuck and you’re not sure the odds of each.

There was a thing on the nautiloid. It’s really not important.

Best to ask questions you need short answer to.

Gale: Human, has a beard, often reading.

From Waterdeep. Former Chosen of Mystra.

You don’t like Mystra and not just because she’s a God. Ask literally anyone other than Gale why.

Wizard: found him stuck in a portal after the crash.

Has a tressym named Tara. You don’t know what a tressym is, and it feels too late to ask.

Lae’zel doesn’t know either.

Special diet: ask him for more info. He’ll tell you. On your camp supplies page, you’ve starred things that you can give him.

Do not tell Astarion about the items you have starred. He does not need to know about them and he will be upset at you for “wasting” them.

Best to ask questions you need a detailed answer to.

Astarion: elf, pale, curly white hair.

From the Gate. Escaped a bad living situation (not writing down more for privacy).

Rogue: met him when the Natoiloid crashed. He tried to rob you at knifepoint, you headbutted him in the face. It’s fine now.

Was once a magistrate. He does know legal theory, but you don’t know how correct it is.

You two share murder mystery novels. Ask him where you two left off, though you’ll probably have to start the novel over.

Yes, the books are bad. Yes, that is on purpose. It will make sense later.

Special diet: ask him for more info. He won’t want to tell you, but he’ll do it anyway. Remind him you have an agreement.

A liar, but don’t hold it against him. So are you.

Wyll: human but with horns, one missing eye

From the Gate, current “Blade of the Frontiers”

He named himself that. You didn’t know that was a thing you could do until you met him.

Warlock. Patron is a bitch. Met him protecting the Grove and teamed up if you agreed to hunt down Karlach.

Don’t worry Karlach and him are fine now.

The horns are a sore spot. Don’t bring them up unless it’s a compliment. He earned them for a good reason.

His father is a Duke who threw him out. Wyll doesn't like to say anything bad about him.

Everyone else does when he’s not listening.

You wish you were more like him.

Karlach: tiefling, red, big, sometimes on fire

From the Gate, served time in Hell

Barbarian: met her over misunderstanding with Wyll. It’s fine now.

Don’t touch: she burns.

You’re trying to fix that.

If you’re badly wounded, she will pick you up afterwards and carry you to a healer. Try not to shocking grasp her as a reflex to the burns: if she’s touching you, it’s because you really need the help.

You might not notice the burns due to your pain tolerance. Try to pretend you do. It upsets everyone else when you don’t.

She likes teddy bears. Astarion can help stitch them up if you find any.

He’ll threaten to make you pay, but he never follows through.

Do make sure to keep giving him extra sewing supplies you find.

Halsin: elf, long hair, sturdy

From: Emerald Grove though you don’t know if he was raised there or not

Druid: met him breaking him out of prison.

He can turn into a bear sometimes. It’s neat.

He can turn into other things besides a bear but the bear is the most notable.

Makes the strongest tea in the entire camp. When you can’t sleep, ask him to brew some.

Ignore the double vision, it wears off after fifteen minutes.

You: if you want to know what you look like, find a reflective surface. If not, ask Astarion, he has a mirror.

From: no idea.

Sorcerer. You don’t know how your magic works but you’re figuring it out. .

Gale is trying to help but he’s as confused as you are.

You think you’re at least thirty. Best guess is 32 at youngest, 37 at oldest. Don’t ask anyone for their opinion on this except Gale and Wyll. Karlach too, maybe.

Actually, ask Astarion if you want to try not to laugh and need practice.

Heads up, you have nasty scars. Prepare yourself before you look. It’s a lot.

The others have seen them given the bathing situation on the road. It was awkward.

You also get headaches. There’s a scar that runs behind your right ear that doesn’t feel survivable. It’s probably the reason why. Only take healing if you can’t move: otherwise, darkness helps.

Never let anyone cast aid on you.

You killed a bard once. She did nothing to you and you woke up covered in her blood with her in pieces. Her name was Alfira and she’s dead because of you.

You’re not allowed to forget that.

You have her lute. You’re trying to learn the song she composed for her teacher: someone should remember it. See the dog eared page for notes on it.

You’re not a good person.

You want to be though.

#iz writes #dark urge #bg3 #balders gate 3 #durge #i will probs cross post this to Ao3 at some point but for now it lives here

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trials-of-apollo-my-beloved · 1 year

Text

The Adventures of Lester Papadopoulos and the Scrap Master

A Trials of Apollo Fic

Lester's life has been a on a steady decline ever since he left his abusive family to go be on his own. The days at his new job at his local coffee shop are monotonous and unrewarding until one day he gets robbed by a human traffic light that insists things around here start changing. Lester just wished the "here" she was gentrifying wasn't his life.

Or: A platonic Meg&Apollo coffee shop au

Chapter One

Lester threw his head to the table with so much force the resounding crack could be heard all through the coffee shop.

Kids if anyone ever tells you to get a job at a coffee shop you tell them to stuff some hot coals up their nose, because that’s what spilling hot coffee on yourself then violently banging your head against clear frosted acrylic countertops feels like. An experience also known as Lester Papadopoulos’ average work day.

From behind him Lester heard about the only sound capable of making his day worse, discounting his father’s voice, -which he never did for the fear for his own life- Reyna snickering.

“Clean up not going too well Lester?”

“I thought,” Lester said in a mumble against the counter, “that the coffee would have cooled down after closing.”

Reyna lifted an eyebrow. Lester didn’t know that for a fact, he was too busy crying onto counter tops (huh, Crying onto Counter tops? That sounded like a good indie band) but over his years of being the most mocked person in any room he entered he’d picked up a seventh sense to devine when people were judging him.

“You know we just closed minutes ago, right?”

“Yeah. I was the one that flipped the sign.” Okay now both eyebrows were up. Seriously Lester was surprised that this kind of stupidity coming from him was still surprising her.

“Okay. You do know how time works right?”

“Yes.” Lester mumbled, all too aware that his nose was bent at an angle that made him sound like a person doing a bad Big Bird impression.

“Okay then. Are you alright?”

Lester snorted, No, Lester thought, but I don’t want to inconvenience you any further with my presence, woman who shot me down for a date and laughed in my face not even two weeks ago, and is also one of the most brilliant people I know.

“Yes.”

“Good because there is a little girl knocking on our door and you’re much better at turning people off than I am.” Reyna chuckled to herself like that was the funniest joke in the world. Lester sighed because if it hadn’t been targeted at him he actually would have found it funny. Currently it just felt painfully accurate to reality.

“Fine, I got it.” Lester picked himself up from the counter and brushed off his apron. There, now he looked about as presentable as anyone could after a ten hour work day. Gods he missed being on the family payroll.

Lester metaphorically hiked up his skirts and went up to the glass doors to shoo off some kid.

Truly his father was wrong, he was doing so well without him.

Lester had to blink to make sure the windows on the doors hadn’t been replaced with mirrors and he wasn’t seeing the reflection of the traffic light from the street, because there was no earthly way a parent would actively choose to dress their child like that.

Lester opened the door and addressed the fashion disaster question, “Uhm, excuse me but we’re closed. And we have a no loitering policy, so-”

“Do you guys have any leftovers?”

“Do we have any… leftovers?”

“Yeah, you know? Like food that is past its sell by date and, ya know?”

Lester blinked and observed the girl past her abysmal fashion choices. He could figure why a kid would be asking for something like that. The girl was on the shorter side with hair that might have once been a page boy cut but had long fallen out of maintenance. Her outfit, past being the last choice of anyone with common sense, was also stained and she smelled like the dumpster outside his apartment building.

This girl looked like a what if scenario where the lost child in a grocery store was never found by their parents and grew up amongst the produce. Then going on to sustain their home in the store through wacky Home-Alone-esk shenanigans, eventually ascending over piles of outdated meats to become the grocery store scrap master.

“Might I ask why you want to know that?”

The girl peered past Lester, “Because I wanna eat it, duh.” She seeped so much sarcasm into that “duh” that even as a worker in retail he couldn’t help but be offended by the condescension.

“As a top thinker I object to the idea that that was the obvious direction of this conversation!”

“A top thinker?” The girl squinted at him, and, yeah, Lester had to admit that wasn’t his best comeback. In his defense he had just slammed his brain into a hard counter top only moments before.

“Yeah!” Even if it wasn’t his best strategy he would do what he always did, double and triple down on whatever stupid thing he said. It was a tactic that never went wrong.

“Okay. So are you going to answer my question or not?”

Lester sighed, he didn’t have the patience for this during the workday much less after, “Yes we do and you can.” He didn’t need to check, despite being relatively close to a big highway there wasn’t often much business at this little joint.

It was originally one of the reasons he picked it, Lester was painfully aware that he wasn’t much of a people person. Not that he didn’t like people, no he loved people! They just tended to not like him.

Something you and I have in common , he thought, looking at the girl, oh master of scraps . “Would you like some?”

The girl harrumphed, again acting like yes was the most dumbly obvious answer to the question “do you want to eat the leftovers of the leftovers of the coffee shop industry in America after starbucks.”

Lester shucked the door open and trudged in. He would let the girl have some food. What would be the harm? He waved to Reyna, who was currently trying to blend her eyebrows in with her irises, that or she trying to tell him “what the fuck” with her eyes over the fact that he had brought the girl in that she deliberately asked him to get rid of.

“Alright, over here-” Apollo waved the girl over to the counter where he normally emptied out the stale pastries into trash at the end of day. He was cut off when the scrap master barreled past him into the back of the shop, knocking his shoulder into his body with the force of a linebacker’s full charge. (don’t ask how lester knew what that felt like)

“Hey!”

The girl’s pageboy-post-apocalypse poked itself over the counter as she raided the shelves. She shoved some muffins and several cake slices that definitely weren’t meant to be transported by kindergartener's backpack into her bag. Then before Lester could stop her she planted a whole cupcake, paper wrapping and all into her mouth.

Perhaps realizing she had done something wrong her eyes locked with Lester’s and went as wide as her mouth.

Reyna, who had been wiping down tables, decided now was the time to intervene and the scraps master must have developed some eighth sense along the line of Lesters’, and backed off the sweet shelves.

Seemingly understanding that she had limited her own time allowed in the shop she spun around. Her eyes impassively scanned her surroundings, until they lasered in on the sweetener packets, and abandoned whatever kind of decorum she might have had before -which apparently she did because whatever she was doing now was definitely worse- and shoveled handfuls of the packets in her backpack.

Finally getting over the shock of the whole scene Lester started walking to the girl, like a soldier ant marching to their death in a battle against the neighbor kid’s boot. The girl made a mad dash to the door, snatching one last croissant on her escape. Lester, the savant under pressure that he was, stuck his foot out to try and trip her.

Look, he did intend to let her keep the food. It was a lost cause at this point even if he wasn’t going to in the first place, but the sweetener packets? Really? What kind of situation was this girl in where she needed to steal sweetener packets?

It felt like she took them just to take them, which Lester felt was just a dick move.

Luckily, or unluckily if you were the last scraps of Lester’s pride being yoinked by the scrap master, his foot missed the girls’ by about a meter so her escape remained unimpeded all the way to the door which she burst out of in a flash of traffic light colors.

“What just happened?” Reyna’s voice snapped Lester out of his shocked reverie trying to puzzle together an answer to that very question.

“I think we just got robbed by Dora the Explorer glow in the dark edition.”

#trials of apollo fanfiction #trials of apollo #lester papadopoulos #Mine #fanfiction

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fantasiasworld · 9 months

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Soo and Nari (Soori)

(Nari, left) (Soo, right)

art piece I commissioned from @dacquoisettes (thank you so much again!! they look so beautiful 💞💞)

Overview

Soo and Nari’s relationship can only be described in one word and one word only: messy.

Soo is so paranoid about everything and everyone, she barely trust the people in her own group let alone someone else in a whole different group. Soo is basically like a skittish scared cat who sinks her claws onto everybody who gets too closed, she’s very paranoid and would often jump to the worst conclusion about somebody even if they have done nothing to show that they’re unloyal or deserving of a wild assumption that she made up about them.

Nari, on the other hand, is known to be very pushy and provocative, she loves seeing people start to lose control because of her words or actions. She just keeps pushing and pushing until someone finally snaps and for the better part of her and Soo’s relationship that was an easy feat to do.

Nari found out very quickly that Soo was going to form her own judgements, her own opinion and assumptions about her character, regardless of whether they were based on reality or not. Once Soo decides that you’re a threat to her then it’s very hard to change her mind, so Nari sees no point in trying to convince Soo that she means no ill will or that she has bad intentions because ultimately Soo doesn’t want to hear it and therefore Nari decides “if she’s going to think the worst of me anyways why won’t I play into it?”

Fairy Tales

Yeah, their relationship is by far from picture perfect but although they have their own flaws individually and may bring out the worst of each other, Soo and Nari do make a pretty good team and are pretty compatible when they’re aren’t arguing or throwing digs at one another.

Nari’s fairy tale derives from Little Red Riding Hood whilst Soo fairy tale derives from The Little Mermaid. Little Red Riding Hood was tricked by the Big Bad Wolf into thinking he was her poor sick grandma and was later eaten by the wolf. The Little Mermaid sold her voice for legs to the Sea Witch, thinking the Sea Witch had her best interest at heart and later was betrayed by her.

Both of their fairy tales consist of two gullible and naive young woman who thought the best of people and inevitably got the short end of the stick because of it. And while Soo’s and Nari’s version of the story didn’t end in a gruesome death, it didn’t end in a happily ever after either.

For one, unlike in the popular told story of the Little Mermaid, Soo was actually banished and exiled from the Sea Kingdom due to her vast interest of humans and the human world (and also her alleged affair with the Sea Witch but that’s a whole other post in itself-), and was thrown into the human world having no idea what to expect or what she’s getting into and it ultimately caused her a buttload of trust issues and why she’s so jaded and paranoid at the world.

Similarly, Nari has her own experience of having someone robbing her of her innocence and her naivety being taken advantaged of. Although, the origin of her fairy tale has derailed so much from what actually happened (and it kinda amazes Nari how humans can go so off from the original source material but that’s neither here or there!), she understands the act of having her youth taking from her even after she escaped the clutches from the Big Bad Wolf, it’s still something that she deals with and struggles to this day.

In a sense, they both understand what it feels like to be so young and trusting of the world and being so filled with curiosity, just as much as they understand how quickly things can take a turn for the worst because of it. They find reconciliation and understanding in each other since they both went through similar experiences, however, it’s because of those similarities that they don’t fully trust one another.

Dynamics

They’re dynamic is very push and pull, sometimes they’re at each others throats and other times they’re at each others door begging for forgiveness. It’s exhausting yet kind of entertaining for everybody to bare witness because they never know what’s going to happen next.

Nari is entertained by Soo, she thinks her angry outburst that mostly are directed at Nari’s expense are quite funny and often pushes her button to get her to react. Soo, in turn, always takes bait though whether it’s because she’s actually annoyed at Nari’s antics or is actually amused and just playing along for the bit is still ip in the air.

What’s interesting to Nari though is how Soo is completely different person when she’s not yelling at her. For one, Soo is a bit standoffish to everybody else and puts on a cold exterior and doesn’t let anyone ever get too close to her. The difference between how Soo treats Nari vs how Soo treats the rest of the Colorful members is very apparent and noticeable to everybody (well expect Soo), and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Nari that she’s the only one Soo lets her guard down around. It both makes her feel prideful to see a side of Soo that most people would never see yet nervous all the same (though Nari would admit that part).

And on the flip side, Soo can’t help but be attracted and intrigued by Nari, almost the same way she was attracted to Ophelia. As much as she hates to admit, there’s still a sense of curiosity lingering inside of her. She can’t help but be pulled in by challenging things and Nari is the most challenging person she has ever met.

Soo never knows what Nari is thinking or what her motives are and she so desperately wants to figure it out, wants to figure Nari out. That thought both excites and scares her because she doesn’t want to get hurt again by another person she likes, yet doesn’t have the heart to let her go so she’s kind of stuck in this weird limbo not knowing what to do or where to go but all she knows is that she doesn’t want to do it alone.

#fantasia #the colorful #the monochrome #soo andersen #nari reyes #soo x nari #soori #oc #original character

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winns-stuff · 1 year

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LO RANT:

You know what I just realized? The rant I did for Persephone about her trauma can actually be said for Hades. I know what you’re thinking, “what are you talking about a big chunk of that section was speaking on how Hades’ trauma is treated better than Persephone’s!” which I’m not denying since I did state that, but I only really meant the Kronos stuff that Hades has been suffering through every other season. I’m talking about the relationship with Minthe and Hades.

Listen as much as I relate to and adore Minthe’s character I won’t ever lie or disregard that she was a shitty partner. They both were of course but no one has the right to put their hands on another person and shout all types of insults at them, no matter how much I hate Hades I’m not going to defend stuff like that. But with the presence of his very toxic relationship I think we were genuinely robbed of the effects that it had on him in the long run. We never got to see his thoughts completely and we didn’t get to see how it affected his everyday life, each time there was a toxic panel of Minthe and Hades we got transitioned to the next happy uwu romance scene like nothing ever happened. I’ve never been in a toxic relationship before but I have been through many platonic relationships that were utterly terrible, I know it’s not the same thing nor is it comparable but it’s the only thing I can really speak on that sorta correlates in some way. But toxic relationships, especially those that last a very long time, do indeed affect you and your behaviors you start limiting your emotions and stop doing things that the person you were in that relationship with dislikes. You change yourself entirely since you want to make something out of the scraps that they chose to give you and you’re forced to conform to their ways because you’re under this guise that they care about you and you deceive yourself by giving yourself the comforting thought that “they’d never do this to me” or “we’re friends/lovers so they didn’t mean it” or even “I deserve this treatment.”

These emotions and thoughts could’ve been easily explored during the Minthe arc since especially being a man and being a victim of mistreatment is rare in the media with romantic relationships. This could’ve been a great exploration of mental health issues with men and how getting their feelings and traumas validated should be respected and welcomed within our society, the things that Hades faced would’ve probably reflected that of other experiences that other people faced within similar relationships and it would’ve been a good door for representation for male abuse survivors. But sadly, all of that got overshadowed by the building and foreshadowing of Kronos and Persephone coming into Hades’ life to be the better woman and “heal” him instantly.

Did we see pieces of how Hades was effected by Minthe and the trauma it left him with? Yes, but the thing is we only saw it while we were gathering evidence for Minthe to be season 1’s villain and it felt like it was there for drama only. After Minthe slapped Hades and bruised him no one else should’ve put their hands on one another, I hated how this very serious moment got played for jokes and giggles throughout the comic when it’s obvious that the narrative was trying to argue against stuff like that. I don’t understand why Hades had to immediately be lovey dovey with Persephone as well, something like that happens to you I’m sure the very last thing you’d be worried about is a girl you met a few days ago that you started having feelings for. Maybe instead of that Hecate and Hades had a moment so that he could be properly comforted and talked to in a gentle manner (no I’m not saying use a baby voice or anything but just be a friend??) which would’ve been very powerful and empowering since a lot of men’s traumas do not get validated by others because of the “be a man” stigma. Showing people that men deserve to be sheltered and cared for like a normal human being, especially after something traumatic happened to them, would’ve been adding onto the theme of mens mental health.

Instead of that though we have Hades going over to Hera’s house and seeing Persephone after she lured him outside. Now listen, I understand that maybe he was trying to distract himself from the situation or even trying to forget about it in some way but throughout that whole time Hades never even mentioned or thought about Minthe. He got assaulted physically and a girl he barely knows keeps on touching him and getting close and personal without his content. It would be pretty stressful to deal with and it could’ve went to showcase how much damage this stuff does to people. Abuse is not just something you can forget about entirely to the point it doesn’t exist, you can try but like all trauma it’ll always be there and that’s what Lore Olympus gets wrong every time. They make something traumatic happen with the two characters and only ever validate it to either use it as drama, a plot, or to have a cute moment. And that’s entirely fucked up.

I don’t like how Lore Olympus used Hades being mistreated in his relationship as some one up. “I’m so much better than you because I don’t put my hands on people!” amazing I’m so glad that Persephone is a decent human being but why is that even in the whole “better woman” thing. It’s just weird how they’re using that as some crutch instead of giving the situation the respect it deserves. No one should be putting their hands on anyone and that shouldn’t be something that makes you better that should just be common decency. Same could be said with the whole Hades vs Apollo thing, it’s just depressing honestly that that’s being used as some sort of badge even though the comic should be trying to normalize it. These are normal things, no one should be doing any of that stuff to other people it’s sick and utterly deranged. Stop rewarding the bare minimum.

Anyways, that’s all I really have to say. It’s disappointing that it was used as a way to make a cute uwu moment and I hate how they glamorized it almost immediately after moving on completely. But I’m not surprised since it happens all the time.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lo hades #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical

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divine-nonchalance · 1 year

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∞

The 9D Arcturian Council, Channeled by Daniel Scranton

“Greetings. We are the Arcturian Council. We are pleased to connect with all of you.

We are listening to all of those of you who reach out to us, and we are watching as well, witnessing, being the observers that we are. We know that there are certain changes you would like to see in your lives and in the outside world around you, but we also know that sometimes it serves you to be right where you are for a little bit longer. More often than not, the support that we send is to help you get through something and to receive the benefits from having experienced it, rather than just reaching down with our nonphysical hands and scooping you up out of an unwanted scenario in your lives.

We love helping you, and watching you grow and expand, and we realize that only a certain amount of help is really helpful, and when we go overboard, we essentially rob you of a growth experience. And more and more of our colleagues who are in other dimensions and other star systems are realizing the same, and that helps more than you realize because when we are giving you the right assistance, it actually shortens the amount of time that you have to spend living something that you’ve created. Because if we were to reach down and scoop you out of a situation, your higher self would realize that you still hadn’t gotten what you needed out of it, and you would recreate the same scenario, or a very similar one, so that you would get the growth out of it that you intended all along.

Feel for the support in helping you to process emotions, helping you to communicate to others what you need to. Feel for the support that encourages you to go within and find the power that you have to change everything in the blink of an eye. Feel for the love around you when you’re going through one of those dark nights of the soul, and listen to all the guidance that you’re getting from within. Your feelings, your intuition, and your inner knowing are all wonderful tools that need to be employed in order for you to get through what you need to faster, more joyously and with better, long-lasting results.

Now, you have others in your lives that you want to help, and some of you struggle with how much is an appropriate amount to give to that person, or those people, who consistently look to you for help. You also have to choose wisely, because you want that person to be independent, and you want that person to realize just how powerful they are. You want to see them grow and evolve through their challenges, but the compassionate empath within you also wants to just make everything better for that person. You want them to stop feeling bad in the now moment. What you can always do for every person and every group that you become aware of that needs help is you can send love, compassion, healing energy. You can soothe; you can hold space. You can reassure. You can remind people that they are powerful beings, and that whatever they are experiencing will pass in time.

It is true that what you experience in your lives is all very much calculated, but not all of it was planned out before you incarnated. You are planning at night while you are asleep, based on choices you’ve made and vibration you’ve offered. So remember that as well, that you can change what you’re offering and change the path you are on, and so can everyone else. And when people come to you in need, tell them your stories. Tell them how you overcame something and how you grew from it. And let them know that you believe in them and that you believe that they can make the choices that will change everything for themselves and their current life situation.

You are allowing us to work through you every time you offer to be of service to one of your fellow humans, and that is one of the many things about connecting with humanity that brings us so much joy.

We are the Arcturian Council, and we have enjoyed connecting with you.”

#daniel scranton

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redroom-rainbowguts · 2 years

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A Gross Experiment

Word Count: 1950

Tw: Sexual assault, blood, kidnapping, drugs, medical horror, self harm, non con

The blonde haired woman forced her eyes open, drowsiness quickly dissolving into panic as she realized where she was. White pulled up a stool, shifting his weight so the wheeled legs propelled him forward towards her. He glanced up at the woman he’d strapped to a vintage medical table. Though old, most of the mint green bed was in perfect condition, save for some bits near the edges that had cracked to reveal the foam cushion inside.

“You know, you’re pretty lucky,” he said. She squirmed against the leather restraints holding her arms and legs in place. “Most people don’t get any sort of anesthesia. If I wanted to fuck with a compliant subject, I’d just grab someone from the morgue or something, you know? Why go out of my way to rob someone of life if I just wanted to play with a bunch of lifeless organs? The screams, the fighting, the gaze somewhere between rage and despair, that’s what makes it feel like I’m actually doing something. What can I say, it feels good to make a difference.

But you, you my dear, I’ve got plans for you.” White stood up, peeling tape from the woman's head. She winced as layer after layer ripped the hair from her head; he’d been meticulous in wrapping it around not just her mouth but her neck as well to ensure she couldn’t simply work it off with enough moisture and patience. Her lip quivered.

“W-What are you going to do to me?” She asked. He trailed a finger along the IV connecting her arm to a bag of fluid. He twisted a small clamp at the base free, and the clear liquid dribbled down the thin tube into her vein.

“Assuming my theory is correct, something that’ll feel really, really good.” Too many questions to choose from left her silently incredulous. White smiled. His gloved hand wiped a stray tear from her cheek as he spoke again. “I may have brought you here unwillingly, but I’m not a liar. I’ve been nothing but open with you about my intentions, haven’t I? I’m simply a student studying and working hard to further my own education. Even when we met I said I bet you’d be a fantastic lab partner.” White traced a few of the still healing cuts lining her abdomen- an appetizer he’d selfishly indulged in as she’d slept. “And I was absolutely correct, working with you has been lovely.”

The woman opened her mouth, but no words came out. Whatever was being fed into her veins was making her limbs feel heavy. No, not just heavy, they didn’t feel at all. A violent tingling washed down her body, leaving pure nothingness in its place. She may as well have been a consciousness capable only of sight and hearing. She managed to squeak out a confused gasp just before the paralytic stole that from her as well. White perked up.

“Ah, I was wondering how long it would take for the anesthesia to kick in. Like I said, it’s not often I use it, so I wasn’t entirely sure just how long it would take.” He scribbled down a few notes. “I’ve put a lot of work into ensuring what I use is as fast acting as possible, though I have to sacrifice some degree of speed or else it’s far too volatile. I don’t need you dropping dead on me before we’re done, it’d be such a waste!”

The woman couldn’t decide whether his rambling was making the situation better or worse. It humanized him, somewhat, a bit like when a doctor explains everything going on to a nervous patient. But on the other hand, he had obviously drugged her at some point to kidnap her, and now he was not so much speaking to her as he was speaking at her with the same calm disconnect as a mortician referring to a cadaver.

“I’ve always had a soft spot for bugs. They’re so often misunderstood, and people generally make assumptions about them without putting in any real effort to understand them.” White rifled through a set of medical instruments he kept under the table. Every so often he placed one onto a nearby metal shelf, making clear his enthusiasm whenever fear broke through the anesthesia and caused her breath to hitch.

“Take slugs, for instance. They’ve got no shell to hide in like snails do, but this allows them to hide and squeeze through much smaller spaces, getting away from predators with much more ease than just hiding in a flimsy shell. And their slime, it’s actually so thick and viscous that they could slide over a razor blade without taking any damage, isn’t that cool?”

She stared at him.

“That’s actually what made me think about this. People create a fluid that smooths over the friction involved in sex. Sure we can stretch, but that can only go so far, especially with an unwilling participant.” He nonchalantly pressed a hand against her bare crotch, pausing for a moment before giving it a few gentle strokes.

“I just want to know how far that extends. If a pussy can accommodate a dick, then what else can it take? Sure, I could probably just collect a sample, figure out its structural integrity, blah blah blah and call it a day, but-” White pulled a syringe and a little bottle from the shelf, making a show of loading it and flicking away the air bubbles. “-but I’m really more of a hands-on learner.” He finished, sliding the needle into her mons pubis. Within moments the nothingness was replaced with a burning ache localized specifically to the surrounding area of the injection.

White nodded excitedly as her face, though numb, still reddened. “I’m actually really proud of this one. Stumbled across it by accident awhile ago when I was still using myself to experiment on. See?” he interrupted himself. “I’m nothing if not fair. I am more than willing to take the pain I dish out if it’s in the name of science.

Though,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I admit I was a bit too squeamish to do this one. That’s where you came in! I’ve given you a drug that actually coats the veins in a kind of shield that blocks the effects of the anesthetic within a very small area. That way you’ll stay nice and still for me while I, to put it crudely, fuck around and find out.” He laughed at his own dry humor for a moment before placing his hand back into her folds.

Furrowed, concentrated brows replaced his smile as he rubbed her clit in soft, patient circles. By all accounts it should have been at best ineffective and at worst uncomfortable. The assault, the drugs, the way he tried to eke arousal from her in an unnervingly clinical, mechanical way, nothing about this was anywhere near putting her in the mood. But seeing as her entire sense of touch both started and ended where his fingers danced over her skin, the woman found herself relieved that the paralytic was stopping her from pressing even harder into his hand. She tried to think of something, anything else that would take her out of this moment. As he slipped a finger into her ready opening, she felt guilty wishing he would have added even more.

“You’re really red, y’know. Feels good, huh.”

Right. This was torture. Bizarre, sure, but that didn’t change the horror of her predicament. Bodies are made to adapt to bad situations, so of course hers was only responding like this until- Fuck. FUCK! White added several fingers, rubbing against her walls as they trailed closer to her g spot. He inched forward before drawing back and deliberately delaying her gratification. He edged her again and again, making her desperation that much more intense. The woman had become so slick that every thrust, no matter the speed, elicited a thick squelch that was impossible to ignore in the otherwise silent room. His gloved hand as well as the table was more than soaked with her musk. She could smell her own arousal and wanted nothing more than for him to, at the very least, take away the rest of her senses too so she could pretend her body wasn’t so desperately into whatever weird ass experiment he was conducting.

“Hm, I’d say you seem about ready.”

Ready? Her eyes pleaded with morbid intrigue for him to elaborate, but she quickly wished they hadn’t. He pulled out a gruesome looking tool. It had multiple sharp edges lined up so as to form a cylinder of knives. Without skipping a beat, White took the tool to his own arm, looking her dead in the eyes as he peeled off a thin slice of skin. He winced, but remained cool in his composure.

“Do you like it?” He asked genuinely, waving the flap of skin before flicking it out of the way. Beads of blood lazily formed as his body got the message that it had been injured, but he ignored them and allowed them to dribble down as he spoke. “I wouldn’t say I’m a master welder, but I think this turned out pretty cool!” She felt sick; he couldn’t possibly be planning on- her stomach dropped. White lined up the contraption with her entrance, and carefully he began working it into her.

Despite everything in her silently screaming in terror, her pussy hungrily clenched around the tool. There were no words to describe the sensation. Despite him remaining slow and gentle in his movements, it felt like the slowest rough fuck of her life. It was simultaneously maddening, and to her dismay, bliss. Her body craved more, harder. From what she could see, there was now blood pouring alongside her arousal. All she could think was this should hurt so much worse. White climbed up onto the table, straddling her. He placed a hand on her still numb chin as he drove the tool deeper inside.

“There’s one final thing I need you to do for me.” he growled. His hand pistoned steadily, each time pressing right against her g spot. “Cum.” Her desperate pussy more than happily obliged. She throbbed and clenched against the bladed dildo. Each edge sank deeper and deeper into her walls as she rode each wave of euphoria the orgasm forced upon her.

The pleasure dissipated far quicker than it had built up. No sooner had she begun piecing her consciousness back together than when the reality of the situation was finally able to reach the rational part of her brain. It didn’t just hurt, it was agony. The woman’s lower body seized into what felt like the worst cramp of her life. The world began to spin, and she gazed lazily at the blood now covering her legs, the table, White, and a fair portion of the cement floor as well.

“Hey now, finally had enough?” White stroked her face which was now covered in both tears and her own blood. “You did a great job! I’ve never gotten this far into the experiment before a subject gave up on me! I’ll clean you up after I finish writing down my findings, okay? And then if you wake up again, I’ll make this up to you, I promise! I’ll share what conclusions we can draw, and we can-”

The woman’s hearing faded, and her vision followed soon after. With a sick sense of hopelessness, all she could think was I hope I lost enough to kill me. Not only to escape the living Hell White had thrown her into, but to avoid seeing him follow through on his promise.

#I originally called this 'another gross experiment'#and I'm begging my past self to elaborate #WHAT WERE THE OTHER EXPERIMENTS #murderbabe #murder oc #leech writes #2022 #leech ocs #grey #also multiple times I accidentally wrote Grey because depending on mannerisms my brain just fills in the closest matching name #the hardest edit was finding all the times I messed that up /hj #leech.grey

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bluestar22x · 3 months

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Chapter 3: The Aliens Among Us

Alien Son - Chapter 3: The Aliens Among Us

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: Unbeknownst to him, Cade was a product of an experiment with the goal of raising a super solider. Saved from that fate by his adoptive parents, he is still hunted. Eventually, as it always does, his past catches up with him, though now there’s another plan for him, one he could’ve never imagined.

With the help of friends, Cade must escape his captors again, resuming his life on the run in hopes of finally ending it once and for all, before another generation of his family line has to suffer the consequences.

Rating: 18+ series (explicit content, sensitive topics)

Chapter Word Count: 800(ish)

Series Warnings/General Info: Science fiction, mpreg (due to fictional science), violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, friendship (found family), romance (male x female), eventual love scene, violation of autonomy (by the antagonists), cloning, inter-species relationship (sort of - Cade is part human/more human than not), xenophobia, alien super human abilities

— Don’t like, don’t read or comment! —

xxx

Thirty-one years ago…

“Mr. Dalton!” Marquis exclaimed as a man with crew cut dirty blonde hair passed his open office door, playing with the collar of his black suit. “Could you step inside for a moment?”

“Yes, sir.” The man strolled into his room and closed the door behind him.

“How are the preparations going for the mission tomorrow, Russell?” Marquis inquired, his eyes momentarily falling on the head of security nameplate pinned to his chest.

“They’re going well sir,” Russell answered professionally.

Marquis gave him a friendly smile. “Call me by my first name, Russell. You’re not in the military anymore and we’re basically the same age. You’re making me feel old. I only turn forty next year.”

Russell laughed. “Sure thing, Marquis.”

“John informed you of the address the aliens are staying at?” Marquis asked.

“Yes,” Russell confirmed. He shook his head in disbelief. “Aliens from space in Miami?”

“Sounds like a set up to some kind of joke, huh?” Marquis smiled.

“They really look exactly like humans?” Russell questioned, the concept bizarre to him.

Marquis gave him a grim nod. “Down to their blemishes. They are the most perfect shapeshifters. We wouldn’t have known they weren’t human if they didn’t revert to their true form when they die.”

“I can’t imagine being a simple store keeper, almost getting robbed, seeing a customer get shot trying to talk the robber down, and then boom, their form turns gray and mutated. The proportions of their body becoming all wrong. That would haunt my nightmares.”

“Well,” Marquis paused, “At least he got ten million dollars to keep his mouth shut about it.”

“We lucked out that Leena was shopping at that store that day,” Russell mused. “The government would’ve surely picked up the body and never shared it.”

“And now we get to bring in the rest, save humanity from their threat, and make some discoveries that could change the world,” Marquis stated brightly.

“And your pocketbook,” Russell added.

“Hopefully.” Marquis grinned. “The golden ticket would be getting them to tell us where their ship is.”

Russell cocked an eyebrow. “You mean the UFO?”

Marquis guffawed. “Yes! Strange times we live in, huh?”

“Strange, indeed.” Russell frowned.

Marquis sobered up. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just, how sure are we that they are trouble?” Russell asked as he pondered. “They haven’t harmed anyone. The one that got shot saved that shop owner...”

“Trust me,” Marquis replied quickly. “There’s some shady stuff going on. They’ve been hidden for years, hiding from us, studying us for a reason, and it starts with a big old I.”

“Invasion,” Russell guessed.

Marquis nodded. “We are doing the world a favor both in bringing them in and finding out everything we can about them. We could even put the U.S. ahead in the game of war. Not that we aren’t already ahead.”

“How do we know anything we discover about them will be useful?” Russell inquired.

“Even if we don’t find the ship, they may have foreign inventions in their home, and if we don’t get anything to sell the military, then we may find a cure to a disease studying their bodies; who knows?” Marquis shrugged. “Chances are, we’ll get something out of it. I like my odds.”

Russell gave him a single nod and sighed. “Well, unless you have any other questions, I’ll get back to work.”

Marquis smiled cheerfully. “Sounds good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Russell gave him one last nod and left the room.

Present Day

“What happened during the capture?” Cade asked.

Marquis’ lips curled upward. “You believe me now?”

“Not really,” Cade muttered.

Marquis opened the vanilla folder on the table and pulled out a photo, placing in on the surface a few inches from him. The photo was of a gray colored creature, who looked humanoid, but was definitely not human. Its eyes were closed, and it was lying on a steel table, a thin cloth covering it from the waist down. There was a bullet hole in its head.

“Believe me now?”

Cade gaped at the photo. “This has to be photoshopped.”

“My jars of Alosian limbs and organs would like to argue with you,” Marquis declared.

“So, what happened with the…raid?” Cade inquired, averting his eyes after they focused in briefly on the bullet wound. It looked real enough.

“It was a mess,” Marquis answered. “Three of the five Alosians managed to escape in a car. But some of my security agents caught up to them and rear-ended the car. Ended up losing all three of those Alosians, but it was better than the alternative.”

“World domination,” Cade said mockingly.

“You don’t believe me,” Marquis noted. “But the two females left behind admitted so much in so little words.”

“What did they say?”

“That they were part of a group of scouts looking for a new planet to live on.”

xxx

Series Masterlist

xxx

#Alien Son Series #Original Story

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briamichellewrites · 11 months

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Bria discovered that Brad was a functional alcoholic. He could work while under the influence of alcohol and act completely normal. She could tell he had been drinking because he had become angry and defensive. He didn’t have a problem. But he did. He was just in denial about how much he was drinking. It all came from his depression and his inability to meet the high expectations he set for himself. His drinking also came from his inability to meet his parents’ expectations of him.

Tiny was afraid of him when he was drinking. She hid from him, so Bria took her out of the house to relieve her stress and anxiety. Mike took her in and spoiled her with love and attention. She was a little on edge for the first day but she gradually calmed down. While he was at work, they went through his stuff to find hidden bottles of alcohol.

They found a lot hidden in the closet and under the bed. This wasn’t just casual drinking, but an addiction. They put boxes into his car to keep him away from temptation. Yes, he could just go buy more. She thought about leaving him because of the stress he was putting on Tiny. At the same time, she loved him and she wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. Mike didn’t know what to do either. He didn’t have any experience with addiction.

When he got home, he was very upset to find that his alcohol was gone. Where was Tiny? Mike stood back while she tried to talk to him.

“Tiny and the alcohol are with Mike.”

“Why the hell did you take her away from me?”

“Because she’s scared of you. She’s just a little kitten. Brad, I love you but when you’re drinking, you are really mean to me. You get angry very easily and I’m walking on eggshells around you. You need help. I want to marry you someday but not like this.”

He started crying. Mike nodded at her in approval. Good job. After a moment, he wiped his tears away and declared he didn’t need help. In the back of his mind, he knew what he was doing to her. It made him feel guilty. The more guilty he felt, the more he drank. The more he drank, the more guilty he felt. It was a cycle. Alcohol had such a hold on him, that he couldn’t let go of it.

He had everything, but he still wasn’t satisfied. Not even Bria could make him stop drinking. He loved her but he was pushing her away. They were going to get married and have children together. But what kind of father and husband would he be if he wasn’t sober? He wanted to go back to that restaurant in Cannes and relive that experience because it was the first time he met her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

She joked with him about going to France and not knowing French. He stood up to his parents for her. That was not easy. He was scared of their reaction. To his surprise, they apologized to them. Now, she was afraid of him. He was cruel to her. It wasn’t him. It was his addiction speaking for him. He never wanted to be that person. But, he was.

I’m sorry. He walked out of the room. Mike had her come over to his place to give him space. She nodded and followed him out.

Tiny was thrilled to see her human! She rubbed against her leg and purred. Bria bent over and picked her up. She kissed her forehead. I love you. She loved her too. They went into his living room and sat down. He expressed how deeply proud he was of her. She was proud of herself too. He took her phone in case he tried to contact her.

“Don’t marry Brad. He’s letting you know that he’s not going to stop drinking. This is only going to get worse before he decides to get help. You and Tiny deserve better. Whose name is on the house?”

“Mine.”

“Change the locks. Call a locksmith. Then, he pack his stuff up. If you need to, you can have police officers there when he comes home.”

“I don’t think I’ll need the police because he hasn’t threatened us or done anything violent.”

“Okay. I’ll let you make that decision. Brad is not the only guy in the world. Brad, Rob, Joe, and Chester all have a crush on you. Well, Chester’s married so don’t pick him.”

She didn’t know that. He confirmed it to be true. What about him? He regretted leaving her, though he was very happy with Phoenix. She didn’t want him leaving him to be with her. Don’t cheat on him. He appreciated that and he promised he wouldn’t. Tiny meowed because she had stopped petting her. She laughed and continued petting her. Thank you, human!

The following day, she found Brad alone in the studio. He was surprised to see her. If she was looking for Mike, he wasn’t there. She just left Mike’s. He got confused and asked her about Brad. She was leaving him. He asked why. As far as they knew, they were incredibly happy together. She explained about his drinking. He expressed sympathy for her. What about him? Why was she there to see him? Because Mike told her he had a crush on her. He laughed a little embarrassed.

Yes, it was true. The whole band had a crush on her. Well, except for Phoenix. He just wanted one kiss. She agreed to give him that. When he felt her lips on his, he felt he was in heaven. If this was some sucky romantic movie, there would be fireworks going off around them. They were alone in the studio with zero cameras and nobody coming in.

He wanted to touch and feel her inside out. After getting consent, he went over and closed the door before coming back over. He laid her down on the couch before getting on top.

Meow? Tiny was curious about what Mike was doing. He laughed and scratched her head. What are you doing, human? She lifted her paw and tilted her head. He put his drawing book and pencil down. It was just some sketches for their album. As a dog guy, he never thought he would love cats. Until he met Tiny. She was one hundred percent adorable. Just like Bria.

She pawed at the paper. It felt funny and it made a strange sound. She tried biting it but he wouldn’t let her. Hey! He handed her one of her toys to chew on while he continued working. Ok, human. You win this time. He laughed. Kittens were like toddlers in that they were curious about everything.

They also put everything in their mouths and demanded constant attention. But, they were so adorable. She was exploring the world around her. Brad loved being inside Bria. The last woman he had been with was a short-term girlfriend in college. That relationship didn’t last long because they were not compatible. They were more like friends than romantic partners.

It sucked but it was part of life. He was not the kind of guy who hooked up. Rather, he preferred to be in a long-term relationship. Bria was different, though. He didn’t care if she was a hookup because he had the satisfaction that he had slept with her. She could have any guy she wanted but she had chosen him. He pulled out after finishing inside of her. After catching his breath, he got up and put his boxers and pants back on with her doing the same. They then shared a kiss.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

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