#like good news u survived being shot bad news we had to cut your hair like jk i'd actually rather die i look like justin fkn bieber

[boxwinebaddie]

everytime i rem(ember) that at the end of rm jersey has short hair something inside me screams and dies

[creepling]

am i not enough? (quackity x reader) - apocalypse!AU

( 。・_・。)人(。・_・。 ) | part of the @quackisinnit 1k event !

THE PROMPT IS . . . “ AM I NOT ENOUGH ? “

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader (apocalypse!AU)

word count: 3,306

summary: the reader and alex become a duo while coming across each others paths during a zombie apocalypse. tensions rise as they set up camp in a warehouse, where alex begins to confess how he feels towards the reader. (angst into fluff <33)

tw: zombie apocalypse, blood (ment), cursing, guns, death, eating.

It had been three months since the fallen of mundane life. Three months of complete abnormality, everything known to be in existence that was worth caring about; completely gone. jobs, currency, education were becoming a historic relic. The world was put back to zero. Instead of cavemen and dinosaurs, the new species of flesh-eating corpse’s roamed in packs and seeked for fresh meat. They may have been slow, but they travelled in numbers and they could smell you from a mile away. I learned that your scent became less of a problem when you didn’t keep hygenic. My stence blended with the earth and blood and the roamers didn’t catch us out as much; so we used that to our advantage.

I only had one companion, his name was Alex. He was absolutely dumbfounded when I discovered him. I raided his abandoned home looking for supplies, and when I had to kill a roamer that vacaded in his bedroom; I found him curled up in a ball under his bed. He told me that he had been hiding the whole month when he realised help was to never come; so his only plan was to hide out until he ran out of supplies. That became a problem when I attempted to take them. We made the mutual agreement that if I was to take the supplies, he would come with me. I refused to stay and hide; that is how you get yourself killed. Thankfully he agreed to come with me, and we have been inseperable ever since. However, our bond is nothing close to a friendship, we just had to stick together to survive.

Alex’s main idea was to find a group, hoping by now someone had turned one of the surbubans into a mini civilization. We had travelled between three cities however and we found no sign of good company. As a duo, we have only killed one human within these three months. A man who tried to kill us at gunpoint in hopes of taking our things, to which we scarsely saved our lives by ducking behind a bar table. With one aimless shoot, I shot my gun and it pierced through the man’s chest. I saved our lives, but the sight of the man’s lifeless eyes still haunts me in my sleep. 

One night, Alex found a two-store warehouse to shelter in while on a supply run. He suggested we camp on the second floor and catch up on our sleep and starvation, since we eventually got ahold of sleeping bags and tinned food. I agreed, but reminded him the stay can’t be perminant. He agreed also, still fixated on the idea of finding a commune.

While I made a fire and cooked food, I obvserved Alex drawing in a notepad. I failed to make out what he was doing so I asked, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m trying to draw a map.” He said to me, “It’s not accurate, but it will give us a rough idea of the roads until we find a map.”

“I didn’t take you as a smart person.” I said, hoping he didn’t think I meant it seriously. It was rare for me to joke in times like these, but when I did, my humour came off dry. Thankfully, my comment made Alex scoff out a chuckle.

“And I didn’t take you for a fighter.” Alex said. Since being with each other for two months, we both naturally adopted different roles that benefitted us. Alex was the navigator, the finder; he seemed to have a good sense of direction and I relied on him to not get lost. He also had a good eye and was always good at finding things such as second-way exits or food hiding in obscure places. For me, my job was a lot more physical. I was a good shoot, I knew how to make a fireplace, or bandage a wound. When things got dirty, I would get lucky and save our asses.

“Your food’s ready.” I said, handing him his warm can of chicken soup and a packet of chips. He thanked me, putting his notebook down and sitting cross-legged beside me. As we ate we sat in silence, the only sounds in the warehouse being our mouths chewing the food. We hadn’t ate in nearly a week. I tried my best to chew my chips before swallowing so I didn’t end up with stomache pain, but the instant flavour shot through my tongue and I instinctly ate them quickly. Alex finished his food within minutes, licking the chip packet and his fingers; scraping every last bit of soup from the can and into his mouth. I reluctantly did the same, feeling a little embarrassed; I have never felt so starved in my life. 

“That was fucking amazing.” Alex sighed out, now heating his hands over the fire. I nodded in agreement, collecting the empty tin cans and keeping them next to our things. They will be handy for traps, tying them with strings and hanging them in the woods while hunting would let us know of intruders. It was the small things like that that has made us survive this long.

“Are you gonna go to sleep now? I could keep watch.” I offered, observing Alex’s bloodshot eyes. If we had mirrors, we would flinch at our reflections. Alex looked rough. He always wore his beanie, which he apparently did even before things got bad. He always had a collective spot of dirt on his nose and cheekbones no matter how clean we were, it’s where it always collected the most. His hands were the most dirty, dirt under his short nails and inbetween his fingers. From the rare occasions we touched hands, I felt the softness of his hands, compared to mine that felt aged and rough. His knuckles were stained with blood. Out of both of us, I was covered in the most blood. When I looked down, my hands had a reddish tint, observing more I could see small cuts on my hands from being idle with my knife when striking roamer’s heads. Without having to see, I knew I had sprays of blood on my face from the amount of times I killed roamers. To think when life was normal we cared so much about our appearence, but now activities like doing makeup, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth seemed so pointless. We were slowly becoming used to primitive life and deep down that scared me. I think it scared Alex too.

“I’m tired as fuck, but I know I won’t sleep.” Alex said in a low tone, looking at his hands full of shame. I nodded my head in understanding, knowing exactly how he was feeling. We hadn’t slept properly in months, instead when one person kept watch, the other just lay down with their eyes closed. We forgot what it was like to dream, or to feel hazy. We were constantly alert.

“Since we have no intention of sleeping. Why don’t we play a game?” Alex said. I cocked my eyebrow up in question. What game could we play that didn’t involve making noise and attracting attention?

“We ask each other 20 questions. Normally if you don’t want to answer a question- you would have to do a dare. But hey, wants the point in hiding nowadays?” Alex said, looking at me contently.

“We should be hiding ourselves more than ever, I think.” I said, adding fuel to the fire to keep it burning. “That way no one knows our weaknesses.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Alex said. His question threw me off. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, but maybe I was unwilling to get to know him. I had already lost the people close to me, and I was still in grieving. I was too afraid to get close with Alex. I always had the thought in the back of my head that one day, I might end up losing him. His intelligence may only get him so far.

“I understand.” Alex said, taking back his question. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he must have realized what I was thinking. He lost his close ones too. We both lost so much, we had a mutual understanding about that. Yet, I looked at Alex, and he still felt like a mystery to me. He always pulled out jokes, even in times like these. However, in moments when he thought I wasn’t looking, I could see the pain concealed in his face. Sometimes I even heard him cry at night when he thought I was sleeping. Maybe it was about time we opened up to each other, instead of feeling like we need to suffer alone. We could be there for each other not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay then, since it was your idea, you ask the first question.” I said, hugging my legs to my chest. Alex smiled a little at me, going into thought as he tried to think of a question.

“So, what did you do when life was normal?” He asked first.

I let out a sigh then replied, “I had a very normal life. Lived with my family, did average in school, worked a job to get money. I actually had plans of moving out to the city, I always wanted to go to LA. I never really had aspirations, just wanted to be content.” It sounded boring, but I was happy with my life. I had my ups and downs like everyone else. “What were you like?”

Alex smirked and looked away from me, seeming to become bashful. “I was a twitch streamer.” He said. “And had a Youtube channel. God- it sounds so stupid now that I say it. Like it was all pointless-”

“Were you like- famous?” I asked, trying to conceal a smile.

“Um- I guess you could say that. I had millions of followers.” Alex shook his head, “But I also went to college. I was studying law. I was always staying up late, barely sleeping; both studying and streaming all the time. It took up my whole life, that I just kinda forgot about everything else.”

“Well, you were obviously not famous, because I didn’t know who you were.” I jokingly said, nudging his side. That seemed to make him smile and feel less embarassed.

“So how the hell did you learn how to shoot if you lived such a normal life?” He asked.

“I just learned while doing it. My dad kept a gun.” I admitted, looking at the very same gun I had in the holster wrapped around my thigh. “He would teach me now and then how to use it, but I was never a shooter. The more roamers I shot, the more I got used to it.” Thinking about someone close to me made me chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

To deflate my melancholy, I asked the next question. “Did you always wear that stupid hat?”

Alex chuckled and rubbed the top of his hat. “Yeah, twenty-four seven. I don’t why, I just find it comfortable. My “fans” would joke that I was bald because I never showed my hair.” He said, “God- saying the word fans sounds fucked up . . .”

“Maybe you’ll bump into one of them.” I said, “Heck- maybe there’s a commune right now dedicated to you, trying to find you and keep you safe.”

Alex laughed again, covering his face with his hands. I laughed alongside him, the first time I genuinely laughed in a good few weeks. Looking at Alex, seeing how I uplifted him, it struck a chord with me. As much as I didn’t like to show it, but he made affects on me that were indescribable. He made me feel just a little more contempt, without him I would probably not be able to cope for this long. We eventually locked eyes with each other, Alex’s gaze being longer than I expected. If it wasn’t for the blood, my face would have exposed the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Have you ever fell in love, (Y/N)?” Alex then asked me, which set me aback. The question was out the blew and I think Alex realised that as he looked away shyly, his gaze fixated on the flames of the fire to avoid my gaze. I still stared at him, almost in amazment, trying to conjuct a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know.” I answered. “I have loved people, yes, but- I don’t think I have been in love. You’re suppose to know when things like that happen, right?”

Alex didn’t answer me, he kept staring at the fire. I found myself admiring his side profile, watching how he slowly bit his lip; concealed in thought. I noticed how the glow of the flames contrasted with the darkness of his eyes, how the light outlined his complexion. When I realized I was staring for too long, I looked away, instead my eyes looked out the warehouse window, my eyes tracing the stars in the night sky. 

“I feel like I have known you forever.” Alex admitted all at once. “It’s only been two months, but I have gotten close to you more than anyone I have in my whole life. It might sound crazy but- I believe we were suppose to come together that day.”

My gaze turned back to Alex when I felt his eyes lay upon me. His stare was soft, something I only seen in passing times. I was able to admire him for the first time since we met. In this moment, in the dead of night, away from danger and suspicion; I could look at him with full sentiment. I didn’t need to admire him when he was less suspecting it, afraid of receiving decline or making things awkward. In this moment I realized, I may have developed feelings more than companionship towards him. That excited me. But also terrified me.

“I feel that way with you, Alex.” I admitted, “But . . .”

I decided to choose my words carefully. This conversation was heading in a direction that made me nervous. The world is falling apart around us, and I couldn’t help but question our motives. We should be focusing on survival, not developing a relationship that could be destroyed at any second. Once we step out this warehouse, our chances of losing our lives become high. I wasn’t prepared to damage my mental state, it was already bad enough. I realized my long pause was making Alex shift nervously, so I looked at him in hopes my words would slip from my mouth.

I caved in, muttering lowly, “We should get some rest.” I got up on my feet and was ready to grab my sleeping bag and make up a place to rest, until I heard Alex get his his feet and say words that made my heart sink.

“Am I not enough?”

When I turned to look at him, the hurt was glistening in his eyes. He gulped dryly and he fumbled with his fingers. My eyes shifted from side to side as I was stuck with my words. I kept stammering, and I rubbed my face in stress, ready to plead my case. Until Alex jumped in.

“Don’t think I’m only saying these things to you because there is no one else, (Y/N). I have been thinking about this for a while, everytime I am left with my thoughts. I am certain I will still have the same feelings if we met when things didn’t go to shit. I don’t just think this because we have been the only people for each other. I really really like you, (Y/N). And because of the way the world is, I never want to lose you. I never want you to feel alone ever again. I not only want to protect you because we’re a team, I want to protect you because the thought of losing you pains me so much.”

For a split second I thought Alex was about to burst into tears. That was when I did something I thought I would never do again, which was pull him into my embrace. I hugged Alex so tight that I heard him gasp, freeze, until he eventually wrapped his arms around me and held me just as tight. My face buried into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his body, his soft hands caressing my back and brushing his thumb down my spine in a soothing manner.

“You are enough, Alex.” I said, my words muffled by his body. I reached my lips to his ear so he could hear my words clearly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to like me, or be forced to like me just because we were brought together. I was afraid you thought you were stuck with me.”

I anticipated the day that once we meet other life, Alex would slowly fade away and forget who I was. Once he meets other people, we would go our seperate ways. I never knew why the hypothetical idea pained me so much, until now. As Alex pulled away from my embrace, looking me in the eyes in a loving manner that was foreign to me, his hands on my shoulders, I realized why that idea made my heart feel heavy. I never want him to leave me, I want him to always be by my side. Alex’s gaze was enough proof that he wanted the same.

Stimulated by his touch, I was taken aback when I felt his hand cup my cheek. The warmth of his breath breezing against my cheek, I inhaled as if oxygene was nonexistent. I never realized the proximity between us was slowly closing in and when I did my eyes fluttered shut. Alex hesitated for a split second before pressing his soft lips against my own. My neck bent slightly backwards and I shifted my head to the side to deepen into our kiss, my blood-stained hands grabbing the edges of his open jacket and holding him dearly close. The heat of the kiss intermingled with the heat from the fire, my cheeks and ears grew hot. Alex’s hands were surprisingly warm as he reached his hands under my shirt, pressing his fingers and palms on the middle of my back before running his touch down my spine. My breath became shaky and I felt my legs grow heavy under me, my hands cupped the back of his neck to keep myself uplifted, and luckily Alex’s arms held my weight and pressed my body against his. It felt like hours had went by between our lips moving in sync, our tongues grazing our bottom lip’s, our hands moving and resting on different parts of our bodies. His touch felt contagious, his kisses ranging between soft and passionate. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to let go. Between kisses I would mutter you are enough, you are enough which made Alex smile against my lips.

That night, everything we had to worry about became last priority. The focus all throughout was each other, making up for the days where affection couldn’t be shown. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a roamer in sight. Instead of hearing narls and groans or screams of pain, there was only the faint sounds of nature. The full moon glistened, as if to be a prediction for the emotions spilling between us. I promised myself from this moment on, as I admired Alex, I would protect him no matter what. I will make sure he always feels safe as long as he is beside me. He will always be enough, if not more.

TAGLIST: @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069​ (join my taglist)

[geminisholland]

Hi! What would you think about writing a fic where Tom and reader are both working on a show or movie or something, and they have feelings for each other, but they're too nervous to do anything, and then they both end up in a prop closet or something alone, and then ✨stuff✨ happens? If not that's fine!!

a/n: uhhh i got really carried away with this, and am really obsessed with the idea so thank u for sending it over!! also actress!reader is like my favorite trope to read so it really was no shock this was my favorite to write! i also did my best to portray tom as the gemini man he is. also, my inbox is open, send over requests!

warnings: cussing, sexual tension u could cut with a knife, an intense make out sesh (no smut)

word count: 2211

join my taglist!

do you enjoy my work, and would like to support me elsewhere? good news, you can buy me a coffee!  

ORRRR 

if u are a struggling college student like me who doesn’t have any money, feedback and sharing my stories is a great way to support me. i love hearing feedback, so feel free to ask me or send any suggestions u may have, my inbox is open. i appreciate every single one of u more than u know. thank u thank u THANK U!!!!!

the long nights on set were beginning to catch up with you and your costars. every day you felt more delusional, surviving only by the caffeine that tom would bring every morning. it was really a routine at this point, you’d sit down in the chair of the hair and makeup trailer, and one minute later tom would stroll in with your exact order.

“and an iced matcha for the diva,” he liked to joke. that was his nickname for you, diva. he thought that maybe you’d pick up on his flirting if he started calling you names like diva, and princess. you payed no mind to him, because you thought he was making fun of you. that he didn’t take you seriously, and that was frustrating, because, well, you had feelings for him. you weren’t entirely sure how he felt about you, though, and it was driving you insane. you’d convince yourself you would be okay without him, that if he didn’t like you back, you’d survive it. but then he would walk in to the trailer, holding your matcha, and calling you diva. you couldn’t push aside the euphoria that rushed through your body every time he called you that. you actually really enjoyed it, but tried to ignore that as the embarrassment of him making fun of you settled in.

tom was really cocky too, but you assumed that came with being an excellent actor, and being quite successful. you’d talk to your friends about him, because when were you not talking to him? when were you not thinking about him?

“he’s so cocky, maybe i don’t actually have feelings for him,” you’d explain. “he walks around calling me names, who does he think he is?”

your friends would groan, because they heard this everyday. they would go from “yeah he sucks” to “aw, you should tell him how you feel, you two would be so cute together.”

you just felt so stuck. you’d act in scenes with him, and would feel the connection, but as soon as the director yelled cut the connection would turn to a code that you couldn’t decipher. you really couldn’t figure him out.

he would abruptly open your trailer door, and yell, “hey princess, let’s get going they’re ready for us!”

you’d roll your eyes, but walk with him to set anyways, because you enjoyed his presence. you were friends, at this point. he would invite you to his place for game nights, and take you out to dinner during particularly hard days. he would show up to your place, unannounced, with a pack of truly’s- just cause. you would give him rides to set, and get him his favorite food when he’s filming. you tried not to think about how often he would send you the “you up?” text, because you didn’t want to convince yourself this was something, when there was a possibility it was nothing.

but, you really liked him. he was tom holland, your celebrity crush. the person you’d call when you’re sad. the person who you’d run scenes with for hours on end, and never get tired of being around him. the person who you could just look at, and feel safe. he was home to you, you just didn’t know he felt the same. so, when the electricity went out during a particularly bad storm in Atlanta, and you and tom were in the supplies closet alone, you weren’t exactly prepared for what was about to happen.

“you really ordered an iced matcha while there’s, like, a borderline hurricane happening outside?” tom exclaimed. he stared at you as you stood up, and grabbed the drink from his hand.

“yes, i really did,” you shot back. “what are you gonna do? call me a ‘diva’?” you smiled at him, and his eyes slowly moved down your body than back up to meet your eyes. yes, he really did just check you out, but you were sure you only imagined that in your head.

“i might,” tom replied, then sat in the chair next to you. “it’s still early, though. there’s time to catch up on the name-calling.”

“i’m looking forward to it,” you teased, rolling your eyes at him. sometimes pushing tom was fun. tom shot you a glare, and you smiled to yourself as you sat back down.

“weather is crazy, huh?” tom observed. “i’m not the biggest fan of big storms like this.”

you looked over at him, noticing the concern on his face.

“i think they’re fun, i absolutely love just sitting at the window, and watching rain,” you confessed. the two of you were looking at each other, the only noise was the rain outside the trailer. your heart was beating so hard, you were certain tom could hear it. just the two of you, alone in a trailer. nothing new, yet something felt wildly different this time. perhaps it was tom’s vulnerability due to the storm happening outside.

the feelings you were marinating in were disrupted by the trailer doors being opened, and the makeup artists walking in.

“so sorry we’re late, the storm is insane,” one of them apologized.

“no need to be sorry, tanya, we’re just glad you got here safely,” you replied. tom nodded his head in agreement, and they started to work their magic on the two of you. while in the makeup chair, you and tom decided at the beginning of filming that you would switch who plays the music every day. so, your day to play the music was today, and even though the two of you agreed on this, tom complained.

“why can’t i just play the music today? you always play the same songs,” he whined. you rolled your eyes at him, trying to ignore him.

“oh god not taylor swift again!” tom groaned. you loved that even though you were the one who was perceived as dramatic, tom was actually the diva.

“tom, shut up,” you said back. “you are so annoying when it comes to this shit.”

you looked over at him, and he was looking at you. his eyes sparkled in the light, and you felt your stomach flutter at the way he stared you down. you looked away, staring back down at your phone to try and recover.

a few moments passed, and the two of you were done with hair and makeup. now was the real challenge, getting to the set during the insane storm.

“where’s the umbrella, tom?” you asked while you looked around.

“i have no idea,” he answered. you looked up and glared at him.

“didn’t you bring it over here? i could’ve sworn you were holding one when we walked here twenty minutes ago,” you mocked. tom smiled.

“it’s right here, i’m just messing with you,” he replied.

“you’re so annoying,” you remarked.

you grabbed your script and the matcha, then made your way over, talking about the scenes you were shooting today. this was something the two of you did almost every day, you liked to rehearse your lines before getting on the stage. when the two of you arrived, you set down your script, but kept drinking your matcha as you and tom started blocking. this was something you did before every scene, and was what made your days so long. you had to work out every detail of the scene you’d be filming before actually filming it; which was time-consuming, and sometimes frustrating. you and tom were set up at a table for this scene, sitting across from one another.

“y/n, if you could just move your head more towards the right, we’d get a better shot,” the director called out. so you did, and in doing so, your hand moved with you, and knocked the matcha off the table.

“oh shit,” you said, looking back at the director with an apologetic face. “i’ll clean it up, don’t even worry!”

tom sat across from you, laughing at you as you scooped the ice off the ground, and put it back into your cup.

“that doesn’t sound good,” the director replied.

“no, don’t even worry! i’m totally cleaning this up, it’s gonna be spotless,” you breathed out. you were extremely worried, though. the green liquid covered the floor of the diner set that was built. tom eventually started helping you.

“this is ridiculous, y/n, you can’t scoop the liquid with your hands,” he observed. “let’s go get some paper towels, okay?”

you looked up at him with watery eyes, you were worried that you had just ruined a set that took a while to build.

“okay,” you agreed. the director walked up to the two of you, looking at the spilled drink then back at you.

“i’d think paper towels would be more helpful than your hands, y/n,” he joked. “don’t you think?”

you nodded, “yes, tom and i will be right back with those.”

you and tom walked in silence over to the supplies closet, where they kept the paper towels.

“so embarrassing,” you let out under your breath.

“what was that?” tom asked. he opened the door to the closet, and turned the light on. the closet was huge, so both of you went in to look for the paper towels.

“it’s so embarrassing, doing that in front of everyone,” you admitted. “i shouldn’t have had my drink there.”

tom scoffed, “oh please, we all bring our drinks with us when we’re blocking, anyone could’ve done that!”

you nodded in agreement, uncertain of your voice at the moment, so you opted to stay silent. the lights started flickering right as you found the paper towels.

“that was weird,” tom announced.

“yeah, that was weird,” you replied.

the lights flickered again, and within seconds you were in pitch black.

“wow,” you let out. “tom, where are you?”

“i’m right here,” he said. you laughed, because you thought it was a ridiculous answer. you put your arms out, and tried to walk towards him.

“do you have your phone? i need a flashlight,” you asked.

“no, i left it out there,” he replied.

“shit, me too,” you noted. “put your arms out, i can’t find you.”

“okay,” he said. you walked for a few seconds, then ran into him.

“there you are,” you commented.

“here i am,” he said. the two of you were standing so close, his hot breath was felt on your face. your eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and you could see his features now. you could see his lips. oh my god, you could almost feel his body against yours. you felt butterflies in your stomach as you realized just how close he was to you. you could just touch him, you thought. you could, you really could just grab his face, and kiss him. right here, right now.

“should we try looking for the door?” you asked out loud. the silence was killing you, you had to escape it. tom stood still, breathing harder with every second. “tom?”

“you talk too much, you know that?” he breathed out. you were so taken aback by that statement, your breath grew shaky. “every time i try to make a move, you talk. you just-you talk too much.”

you stood there, in the dark, in absolutely disbelief.

“oh,” you let out. you didn’t know what to do, you were frozen. your eyes were completely adjusted now, and you could see tom more clearly. his face, his arms, his hands, everything. his hands moved up your body, starting at your hips then making their way to your face. you brought your hands around his neck, you were breathing so hard you felt as if you could pass out.

“you are so beautiful, y/n,” he revealed. “so fucking beautiful.”

you smiled, although you weren’t sure he could see that. your hands moved to his face, you cupped his cheeks into your hands. tom moved his face closer to yours, cupping your cheeks as well. he placed his lips onto yours, then started to kiss you. like, really kiss you. not a cute, little peck that you would see in the movies. a rough, passionate kiss. the kiss you had been waiting for all this time. one of his hands dropped to your lower back, and he pushed your body onto his. your hands started to move under his shirt, as your tongues started to swirl together. your cheeks flushed as the warmth of his tongue and body encapsulated you. his hand moved off your cheek, and started to move under your shirt to take it off.

the door abruptly opened, and a bright flashlight made you and tom move your hands up to your face. your bodies broke apart, but the damage was done.

“tom, y/n, we need you back on set, they’re about to turn on the generator,” one of your costars said. “oh, don’t forget the paper towels.” they started laughing, as well as both you and tom.

the three of you walked back, and you wiped your mouth, then looked at tom. he smiled at you, then put his hand around your waist.

you leaned into him, then whispered, “we’ll have to finish that later.”

he shook his head in agreement, “okay, diva.”

taglist;

@zspideyy @lilhoodhippie @th45 @lmaotshollandd @hollandfanficlove 

[mossharpy]

Do u know any TOH fics where it focuses on human culture/Luz being different? I can't find any :(

i've got two! but then this prompt took me by the hands and i ended up writing my own little drabble.

from ao3:

crossing paths by Vikingfangirl23 | 2991 Words | One-Shot | Summary: Luz deals with bullies, Owlbert's been following her longer than she realizes.

It's Just Hair by foolish_snail | 1889 Words | One-Shot | Summary: Luz is tired of getting bullied for her hair. May as well do something about it.

from me (under read more):

Willow and Gus were avoiding her. It was frustrating; all day they’d been skirting around her questions and attempts to confront them about their unusually skittish behavior. They told each other everything—why was this time different? Luz had briefly worried she’d done something to upset Willow, who tended to still be sore about how much time she was spending with Amity.

Luz understood where the witch was coming from, she’d be upset if her best friend started dating her ex-bully too. But, if that was the case, why was Gus avoiding her? Gus was brutally honest about his feelings; he wore his heart on his sleeve. Willow was more closed off, but Gus was always willing to play middleman if a miscommunication occurred. Even worse, when she’d asked them about wanting to sit together at lunch, the two came up with some on-the-spot excuse about having detention. Luz loved her friends, but they were terrible liars.

But she didn’t push. Luz let them go.

The human poked her PB&J, sighing. She didn’t like being ignored.

Fridays were usually her favorite day of the week. She loved Hexside—don’t get her wrong—more than she’d ever loved school, but on Fridays, as soon as school let out, Willow and Gus would follow her back to the Owl House. There, they’d begin their usual ritual of eating far too much junk food and watching crappy Boiling Isles reality TV. It was fun, it was their chance to put aside all their worries, about school, about magic, about getting home, and let loose.

Their distance made Luz think her friends weren’t willing to hang out that night.

A plastic tray gently found a place next to her, and Luz let her eyes wander upward to land on the face of her girlfriend. She smiled, worries abandoned, and focus turned toward Amity, who nervously pulled a string of lavender hair from her face, a pale blush creeping over her nose and tinging her face.

“Are Willow and Gus joining us?” She spoke formally, a trait the witch often defaulted to when trying to hide how flustered she was.

The question made Luz frown, and she let her head fall against the lunch table. “They’ve got better things to do.”

Amity nodded, taking Luz’s hand under the table, and hesitantly letting their fingers intertwine. “I guess they would be busy, what, with the party, they’re planning and all.”

“…Party?”

The purple-haired witch made a small face, “You didn’t know? Gus has been talking my ear off all day about it.” She conjured her scroll to show her girlfriend, gesturing to the dozens of unread penstagram messages she’d likely chosen to ignore.

“The two of them have been insufferable today, how am I supposed to know the difference between Pep Ph.D. and Dr Fizz? And what in Titan’s name is a clown.” She threw up her hands, irritated, before resigning to letting them sit crossed over her chest.

Luz shrugged, still staring at the number of messages, “Pep tastes kinda like barbecue sauce if it was carbonated, Dr Fizz is sweeter, bubblier, and by far the better soda. And clowns are a staple of every good party.”

Amity looked slightly baffled, like she wasn’t expecting Luz to have an opinion either, then gently took her scroll back to rapidly text a message to Gus.

“…What’s the party for?” The words came out muffled, and slightly anxious. She wanted to help, she was a great party planner—Willow knew that, Gus knew that, why were they leaving her out?

“Oh,” Amity was stilly texting, “I think Gus’s birthday is coming up.”

“WHAT?” Luz slammed her hands on the cafeteria table, startling Amity and bringing the attention of the rest of the lunchroom to both of them, various Hexside students glaring or staring, judgingly.

Amity gently brought her hands to Luz’s shoulders, pulling the human back into her seat and nervously laughing. Said human leaned in, close, raising a hand to her mouth to whisper.

“What do you mean Gus’s birthday is coming up?” She was his friend; she should be an expert in these kinds of things! No wonder he and Willow had been avoiding her, they probably didn’t want to break the news to her that she had forgotten one of her best friends’ birthday.

“The party is this weekend,” Amity supplied, mimicking her girlfriend’s hushed tone. “They’ve been sending out invitations on penstagram all day.”

She turned her scroll toward Luz again, this time, a fun-looking, brightly colored invitation with a doodle drawing of Gus throwing confetti, sprawled across her penstagram dashboard. The specific details were cut out, but she could see that Amity was right—the party was this Saturday.

A small knot formed in Luz’s stomach. She couldn’t get a scroll—they were too intertwined with witch magic, and without a bile sack, it was hard to get one. Normally, if she really wanted to see what was going on, she’d ask Eda to borrow hers, but she didn’t have one of her own. Gus knew that, so did Willow. Did they not want her there? Why wouldn’t they give out invitations in person? Why were they hiding this from her?

She slumped onto the table, burying her face in her arms.

“I guess, well—” Amity faltered, catching up on her girlfriend’s sudden deflation, “It is his thirteenth birthday.”

Luz cringed.

“No, no,” Her girlfriend continued, “It’s his thirteenth birthday, Luz.”

She stared, blankly. “I don’t get what you mean. Why are you saying ‘thirteenth’ like that?”

“Oh shoot,” Amity face-palmed, a pointed ear twitching, “Of course you wouldn’t have the thirteenth, I forget how fragile humans are.”

“Hey,” Luz dragged out the word, scowling, “We’re not fragile, we’re just not meant to digest fairies or survive boiling water.”

Her girlfriend snickered, “Like I said, fragile. Anyways, when a witch turns thirteen, you have to go through some… trials.”

“I like trials,” Luz mumbled.

Amity smiled, fondly, then grimaced, “They’re not fun trials, Luz. A witch’s thirteenth birthday is said to be cursed; you have to spend the day with bad luck, and if you manage to survive, at the end of the day you can throw a party, celebrating your ability to wield magic and become a real witch. It’s a rite of passage.”

She ‘oohed’, “That sounds cool. Why wouldn’t Gus tell me about it?”

The purple-haired girl made a face, “I’m not sure. You’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, even if you are… squishy. I’m confident in your ability to survive the death threats of a thirteenth.”

Resting her chin in the palm of her hand, Luz grumbled. “Thank you.”

She moped the rest of the school day.

When her final class came, and the last bell screamed, Luz sulked, taking her time to put away her spell books and potions, slowly zipping her bag and slowly tucking away her pencils. She wasn’t looking forward to walking home alone.

Her feet felt heavy, footsteps echoing down the bustling hallway as other students excitedly talked about their weekend plans. She tried to ignore every whisper of ‘party’, flipping her cowl up to hide her face. Normally, Luz didn’t mind people staring. At home, she got enough of it already, but in the Boiling Isles being the only human made her feel… important.

She didn’t feel important right now.

Her hand gently pushed the front door of the school open, light momentarily blinding her as her eyes got adjusted to the outdoors.

“Luz!” An excited voice called her name, forcing her head to instinctively turn toward the offending noise.

Suddenly, two bodies were tackling her, and Luz found herself toppling to the ground.

“Ohmigosh, are you okay?” A very frantic Gus clambered from their pile of entangled limbs, pushing himself and Willow off of Luz.

“Wha—Gus? Willow? What are you guys doing here?” She blinked a few times, rubbing at the arm she had stupidly hit on the stone ground. Dumb human arms, always getting injured. “I thought you would’ve been getting ready for the party.”

They both cringed.

“Oh… you found out about that?” Willow fiddled with the hem of her skirt, looking away from the human’s face.

Luz felt her face get hot. She was not going to cry about this. Absolutely not. “Of course, I found out! What I wanna know is why my two best friends decided I’m not cool enough to go to their really scary thirteenth birthday party? I know Gus has to go through dangerous trials, and like, prove himself and whatever, but I’m tough! I can take it.”

Gus looked between her and Willow, as if debating whether he should say something. A beat of silence passed.

“Of course, I want you at my party,” the younger witch finally spoke, “actually, that’s what we were coming to talk to you about—”

He scratched the back of his neck, pausing briefly.

“Eda told us that humans don’t have bad luck rituals on their thirteenth birthday, so we—well—we may have—”

“It’s a double party!” Willow interrupted, face quickly turning bright pink. “Sorry, sorry! I’ve been dying of anticipation all day.”

She pulled a rolled-up parchment from her bag, unfurling it to show Luz an edited version of Gus’s party invitation. This one included a small doodle of Luz as well as Gus, both donning matching party hats and throwing confetti. At the bottom, the date and time were clearly listed.

Saturday, 9:00pm, The Owl House.

Luz’s eyes widened, a large grin forming on her face.

“You guys!” She d’awwed, pulling them into a group hug.

“We didn’t want you to miss out, and Eda said you’d be able to handle all the bad luck just fine, and King’s okay with it as long as we bubble-wrap you, and we didn’t want to miss your birthday in case you had to go home before we can celebrate—” Gus cut his own rambling off, taking a breath.

“We got a clown!” Willow laughed, excitedly clapping.

Gus nodded enthusiastically, repeating her, “We got a clown!”

“Is this why you were texting Amity all those weird questions?”

Her friends both gasped, Gus especially offended, “I wanted to be as accurate as possible, the party is human-themed after all. Amity wasn’t supposed to tell you about it! That’s the point of a surprise party.”

“Eda was setting up pre-birthday decorations at the Owl House for tonight’s sleepover.” Willow added.

“Sleepover?” Luz repeated, awestruck. “Oh, my Azura, you guys are the best.”

The three kids hugged again, laughing about their birthday schemes. Human or not, Luz should’ve known better than to think her best friends would exclude her like that.

This was going to be the best Friday ever.

[sincerelyreidburke]

Taddy drabble!!!!!

Okay, remember this post from yesterday about how @hockeysometimes and I accidentally created 3 OC tadpoles for the frogs’ senior year? I accidentally ficced. And it got sort of long.

May I present, tadpole number one: Sebastián “Nando” Hernandez!!!! This started because I said, you know what, there should be a baby gay tadpole when Nursey and Dex are seniors and then they love and cherish him like their adopted child. Thus Nando was born. As promised, I’ll make a post telling you more about Nando and his fellow two tadpoles soon. For now, have this sickeningly soft random fluff, in which Nando comes across some gay shit going down at Annie’s between his captain and said captain’s assistant-captain-slash-best-friend.

Nando loves his classes.

He picked his schedule last spring, at the Samwell admitted students day, and, like, okay, he was a little nervous about it, because how are you supposed to pick classes for a major that determines your job for the rest of your life when you haven’t even graduated high school yet?— But. He did a good job. Because his freshman fall semester schedule is the shit.

Tuesdays are the best, and today is Tuesday, so his spirits are high. He gets out of Soc 101 at 10:30, and he has an entire, like, six hours before he even needs to start thinking about hockey practice. Hockey practice is one of the best parts of any day, by the way, because he gets to see his friends.

He can’t believe it. It’s the middle of October, and he still can’t believe it. Walking across Samwell’s main quad after class, he takes it all in. He’s really here. He’s really in college. He’s almost two thousand miles away from home, and he misses Mama and his sisters a whole boatload, but he’s here. He’s in college, and he’s studying sociology, and he’s playing D1 hockey, and he’s not sure he’s ever been happier.

He’s in such a good mood today, actually, that he thinks it necessitates Annie’s. He’s only been at Samwell for two months, but already he’s perfected his order. They make a mocha frappe with cinnamon that’s honestly the drink of the gods.

Okay, he reasons with himself. Annie’s it is. And then homework. Later. But first, Annie’s. He deserves this.

He’s going to gain his freshman fifteen solely because of Annie’s.

And then Dex will kick his ass. Nando isn’t scared of his captain, exactly; he’s been in enough settings with him to know that Dex is a really nice guy, and he’s been instrumental in welcoming Nando to Samwell. But he’s also seen him on the ice, fiercely debating linesmen on bad calls and getting in scuffles and doling out checks to the members of opposing teams with particularly hateful chirps. He’s a great leader. Nando just isn’t so sure he’d want to get on his bad side.

He just. He really wants to impress the seniors, okay? They’re, like, the coolest guys ever.

Nando reaches into his pocket for his phone, but there are no new messages. He checks his thread with his boyfriend, but Nate left him on read at 9:21 this morning and hasn’t gotten back to him yet— which he never used to do, really, not before Nando left for Samwell. He’s trying not to read into it too much. Nate is busy, after all. He’s at U of Arizona, much closer to home, doing big things. He doesn’t have as much time to text, and that’s okay.

Or— at least that’s what he’s been telling himself.

It’s okay. He tucks his phone away. Nate will get back to him eventually. Even though the gaps between his replies have been getting larger… and larger… and larger.

He knew coming to college with a long-distance boyfriend would be hard, but. Jeez.

His team doesn’t know about Nate. Not really. He would be lying if he said that his decision to come play for Samwell wasn’t influenced at least a little by Eric Bittle and the 2016-17 team, being in the news so much for the first openly gay NCAA captaincy. He was reading the stories before he even got his acceptance letter. He’s not sure he’s ever felt more inspired by another hockey player.

And besides, this is Samwell. It’s one of the queerest colleges in the country, on top of the hockey team’s reputation for acceptance. So really, he shouldn’t be afraid to tell his new teammates he’s gay.

It’s just. Hockey is hockey. And Eric Bittle graduated.

He has some surviving memories from, well, an entire childhood of being a queer, Latino hockey player, and it wasn’t a fun time.

He’ll get there. Eventually.

And besides, he tells himself, he isn’t worrying about that today. Today he’s going to Annie’s, and getting a frappe. The sun shines on his face, and the trees are turning every color.

It’s a good day.

*

Nursey loves his boyfriend.

For a number of reasons, but especially right now. He’s about three sweet-talking sentences away from getting Dex to share a bite of his French toast. They’re tucked into the corner booth at Annie’s— their booth, really; they’ve staked a claim to it every time they come here ever since they got back to campus for senior fall. It’s tiny, and barely spacious enough for two 6’2 hockey players to squeeze themselves into, but Nursey sits across from him and their knees press together under the table, and all is right in the world.

“Look, babe,” Nursey says, spreading his hands out on the table. “All I’m saying is, that little crust right there with the powdered sugar—” He points to the bite of toast in question on Dex’s plate. “I’ve got my eye on it.”

Dex rolls his eyes at him. There’s a smile on his freckly face, and in the warm light of the dining room, he’s every autumn color imaginable, fiery red hair to plaid, maroon button-down to amber eyes like pools of sunlight. For the past three years, Nursey spent his entire friendship with Dex trying to train himself not to stare, to rid himself of the wants for a boy he never thought he could have. This summer, that changed. Now he can have him, does have him— so he can look. Why not look?

Dex is a fucking catch.

He’s pointing with his fork toward Nursey’s own plate. All that remains of what once was there are a few whole-grain breadcrumbs. “I don’t know if you’d noticed,” Dex says, “but you had your own food.”

“Will,” Nursey groans. “I’m still hungry. I just want to taste it.”

Dex cuts into his last stack of toasts, and Nursey glues his eyes to them. Annie’s does French toast right— brioche bread with just the right amount of egg wash, pan-fried and then dusted with powdered sugar and drizzled with syrup. Nursey is pretty sure his mouth is watering.

And Dex is right. He did have his own food. But—

“It’s not my fault,” Dex continues, between bites of toast, “that you insist on getting hipster toast every time we come in here.”

Nursey puts a hand on his heart, like he’s been shot. “Dexy, avocado toast is part of my aesthetic.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dex sighs. “Why am I dating you?”

Nursey grins, rubbing his foot against Dex’s sneaker under the table. “Because you love me.”

Dex rests his cheek in one hand, and Nursey is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to lean across the table and kiss each of his freckles, one by one. He watches Dex pass judgement over him, eyes lingering on him bemusedly, mouth curving up to the dimple on the left side of his face. For a few seconds, he’s quiet, and Nursey doesn’t break eye contact. He’s in love with that look in Dex’s eyes.

Then, finally, Dex stabs the crust Nursey has been eyeing with his fork, holds it across the table, and announces, “I hate you.”

“I know.” Nursey beams. Through the power of his charm, he’s getting exactly what he wanted. He knew it’d come to this, all along.

Dex feeds him the little nugged of powdered, syrupy crust, and it tastes just as overly sweet as the gesture is, and Nursey has never loved anything more. “Mmmm,” he groans as he swallows. “That shit is delightful. Thanks, baby.”

“You’re a sweet-talker,” Dex mutters, still grinning, as he returns to his plate to finish it off.

“But you fall for it,” Nursey points out. “Every time. So who’s whipped in this arrangement?”

“Both of us,” Dex replies. His cheeks are flushed pink, but his smile remains.

“I tend to agree,” Nursey says, then reaches for his free hand and takes it in his own. He pulls it across the table, then plants a kiss on each knuckle, plus one, two, three of his favorite freckles. Dex’s hand, like the rest of him, is covered in them. Nursey has written enough poems about them to fill a book.

In fact, he maybe feels one coming on right now. He tucks the idea into storage in his brain for later, when he’ll inevitably wind up scribbling all over a notebook in a pile of leaves outside the Haus for two hours before practice.

God, he fucking loves this place.

He presses Dex’s palm to his own face; Dex’s fingers curl into the touch and caress his cheek. “Ah, my Will,” he hums. “Where would I be without my stolen bites of your French toast.”

Dex points his fork at him menacingly. “Don’t even think about it,” he says. “That was your ration for the day. This is my breakfast.”

“Hey!” Nursey beams, still holding his hand to his stubbly cheek. There are callouses all over Dex’s fingers. Before this, before Dex, he didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with a pair of hands. “Did I say anything about asking for another piece?”

“No.” Dex mops up the last of his syrup with the very last piece of his toast. His eyes twinkle like the sunrise as he looks up at Nursey. “But I know you were thinking it.”

Nursey kisses the inside of his palm. “Rude.”

Dex laughs into his hand, smiling from ear to giant ear, and Nursey really fucking loves his boyfriend.

*

Annie’s is crowded.

It always is. Or at least that’s what Nando has inferred from his two months on campus. The line stretches almost, but not quite, to the door. He weighs the merits of long line versus mocha frappe— is it worth it?— but then watches two girls go by him holding their drinks, each with tall stacks of whipped cream atop them, and he decides, yeah. Definitely worth it.

So he waits in line. He should have texted Rhodey to ask if he wanted to come with him, but then again, Rhodey is still probably asleep. He’s pretty sure his roommate-slash-teammate is nocturnal.

The coffee shop is buzzing with students, a sea of maroon Samwell merchandise, groups of friends clustered around tables or piled into booths.

Nando grins at the scene. It’s such a postcard of college. Some are hunched over homework; others scroll through their phones or laptops, and still others are just talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. There are art kids, and jocks, and fierce academic types, and— oh, wait— is that Nursey?

Nando squints. Yes, it is! There’s no mistaking that green hat. It sits atop his teammate’s familiar head of undercut curls; Nursey is in the back booth, and he’s— oh! He’s sitting across from Dex.

Nando almost waves at his teammates, but a.) they’re not looking at him, and b.)... something he’s never seen before, he realizes, is happening.

Because the thing is, they’re not looking at him, but they’re not looking at anything else, either. In fact, their eyes are all each other’s, as they sit mere feet apart across the small booth. Dex is resting his cheek in one hand, looking across the table at him, and Nursey is beaming at him, eyes crinkled and face soft, like— like—

— like he’s looking at the love of his life.

Nando widens his eyes. All of a sudden, he feels like he’s seeing something he isn’t supposed to be seeing. Nursey says something to Dex, who rolls his eyes but smiles at the same time. He proceeds to fork something off of his plate and hand the fork across the table to Nursey, who eats the bite of whatever Dex is offering clean off without hesitation.

Nando blinks.

This looks gay.

Really gay.

His theories are confirmed when, a few seconds later, Nursey picks up Dex’s hand and kisses it several times. Nando looks away, lest he catch one of their eyes, but then again, it’s not like either of them seem to be planning to look anywhere but at each other anytime soon. His awkward aversion of his gaze only lasts a second, because when he sneaks a glance back at them, he has to marvel at how soft Dex looks— his cheeks are freckled and pink, and he looks so at ease with Nursey, like he has no other care in the world. It’s an extension of the dynamic Nando has already observed between them— they’re best friends, and he knows this. He just had no idea that they were more than best friends.

Nando pauses in line. Logically, he knew that Nursey was queer. He’s open about it, proud of it, and he gave Nando and the other tadpoles the no homophobic bullshit, this is Samwell, have your teammates’ backs speech on day one of preseason. It was a breath of fresh air for Nando, and he’s sort of been looking up to him ever since.

But Dex?

At the table, Dex has his hand pressed to Nursey’s face, like it’s a prized possession. Nando has never seen that soft smile on his captain before.

“Hey.” Someone nudges him, very lightly, in the backpack from behind. “Dude, you can move up.”

“Oh.” Nando snaps out of it— the line has moved on without him, and he’s left a gaping, empty space in the middle of it. “Sorry,” he says to the person behind him, and then steps forward.

He can still see Nursey and Dex from his new spot in line.

His stomach turns. He misses Nate, watching them together.

His phone still has no new messages, just Read 9:21 AM.

But here are Nursey and Dex, in plain sight at Annie’s, canoodling— there is no better word for it— with each other, being a couple, despite all the odds, all the stereotypes, everything everyone thinks hockey players are supposed to be. Here are his captains, the team leaders, seniors, sharing something that even in this brief glance Nando knows is precious beyond words.

He wonders, for a split second, if he should say something, the next time he sees them. Tell him he looks up to them. That he’s grateful to feel so safe here.

But watching them with their breakfast, he decides against it. He’s seeing this before they’ve chosen to reveal it to him, and that should happen on their own terms.

Nursey throws his head back in a laugh. Dex grins like he’s just won the Stanley Cup.

No, Nando won’t say anything. This is something too precious to intrude on.

For now, he smiles, and he waits in line for his frappe.

[ehstarwar]

flesh stays no farther reason (1/6)

Great, she thinks, another horny creep trying to entice young women to hop into bed with them for roughly 30 seconds.

She reads the post anyways.

-

Five times Ben looks for Rey and the one time she finds him.

-

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5K

Read on AO3

Notes: 

my brain at 2a.m., assuring me that it'll be a one-shot: for the lady, perhaps a salad?

me, 5,000+ words in and only on their first meeting: [chuckling] perhaps not

-

1

what's to come is still unsure

She sees it on Reddit.

She doesn’t normally scroll through the website (certainly not subreddits like this) but she’s bored and can only take the same Buzzfeed quizzes so many times.

She’s not sure what led her to this page, how the rabbit hole of the internet made her search r/mseekingfcorusant but here she was, scrolling through the disjointed thoughts of horny guys in her area.

Posted by u/droidwrangerl88

need hot girl to bang. serious inquiries only.

Posted by u/mycumtastelikesarlacc

Any girls in the Coruscant area looking to hook up this evening? 38M seeking mid-20sF. Will split hotel bill.

Posted by u/hotbountyhunter3483

any females interested in shredded guy for an evening? willing to meet for drinks b4 hand, and will pay for ur drinks if ur hot. (943) 349-9684 ;)

Rey finds it consistently astonishing how gross and vulgar men can be when hidden behind a screen. But she is scrolling on this page out of her own free will, so it does seem a little ‘pot-calling-the-kettle-black-ish.’ Just as her finger goes to press back to the home-screen, a tiny blue bubble appears at the top of the page, indicating that there has been a new post made. Great, she thinks, another horny creep trying to entice young women to hop into bed with them for roughly 30 seconds.

She reads the post anyways.

Posted by u/KyL0_R3N

31M seeking similarly aged F for the evening of 05/17. I have an important meeting on the 18th and sex the night before proves to a good luck charm for me. Nothing too crazy or obscene, fairly vanilla to start off with, but willing to go further based on her desires.

Something in Rey clenches.

It’s by far the most eloquently phrased way of asking for sex that she’s seen thus far. He seems straightforward, which is refreshing, but she knows that the best of psychopaths are good at hiding their true intention.

She clicks to his profile.

He seems interested in pretty common threads. Cooking tips, best laundromats in Coruscant, Galaxy Battles discourse; all innocuous and nothing to indicate he would chop up whoever responds to his post. Maybe that’s why she sends him a message.

From u/R3yoflight

why not just download tinder?

everyone on tinder is looking for sex too.

She bites her lip as she presses send. It’s not the best conversation starter, she’s aware, but their semi-introduction was from him posting about wanting to have sex to preform well in a meeting. Formalities can be forgone, in this particular situation. It’s not like she’s trying to impress him either; she didn’t message him to accept is offer, just merely because she’s curious.

There’s a pang of nervousness when she hears the notification sound out that he’s responded.

From u/KyL0_R3N

There’s too much preamble on dating apps.

Also, I’m looking to have sex, not to date.

It seemed more advantageous

to be straightforward.

From u/R3yoflight

hmmmm

i guess that makes sense

(also advantageous is worth 17 points in

scrabble, so kudos)

have you gotten many interested respondents?

From u/KyL0_R3N

You’re the first.

From u/R3yoflight

who says i’m interested???

From u/KyL0_R3N

Well, you are the one who messaged me?

Also, my post has been up for only a few minutes,

so you’re the first respondent in any capacity.

From u/R3yoflight

oooohhh i feel special ☺️✨

From u/KyL0_R3N

You’ve yet to tell me if you’re interested.

Is she?

Is she really considering letting Mr. KyL0_R3N fuck her after meeting him through a publicly placed internet post and knowing next to nothing about him?

From u/R3yoflight

maybe??

idk v much abt u yet

how do i know ur not a serial killer

or that u actually are who u say u are

which u haven’t yet

said who u are, that is

From u/KyL0_R3N

I’m  31M. I work in Coruscant at a tech company.

I’m 6’3, 190lbs. I’m not a killer in any capacity.

You haven’t told me anything about yourself,

which hardly seems fair.

From u/R3yoflight

24F, 5’6, i’m not telling u my weight

i work at an auto shop downtown so i can

kick ur ass if ur lying abt not being a killer

From u/KyL0_R3N  

In order to kick my ass, we’d have to meet.

So, are you interested or not?

From u/R3yoflight

i shouldn’t be

From u/KyL0_R3N

I have the distinct feeling that you are.

Am I right?

From u/R3yoflight

...

yeah

-

He tells her his name is Kylo Ren, which she thinks sounds stupid and made up, but doesn’t press him. They hammer out some more details, agreeing to meet at the bar of a swanky hotel downtown first, and if all goes well, he’ll have a room reserved for them.

When she tells him that she can’t afford to pay any of the room, he dismisses her flippantly with a quick ‘I’ll take care of it’ that makes her chest feel tight.

They don’t talk much after that, only a message from her a few days before hand, making sure the plan was still on, and an affirmative from his side. But a few hours before they’re supposed to meet up, Rey gets a notification from him. It distracts her from the task at hand (precision shaving of her legs and… other parts), causing a knick on the back of her calf.

From u/KyL0_R3N

While I don’t think that we’ll be doing

anything that would require

a safe word, I’d like to have one in case.

From u/R3yoflight

i’ve never had a safe word.

what’s a good one?

From u/KyL0_R3N

It doesn’t have to be anything special.

We can stick to a traditional scale.

Green means you’re good.

Yellow means slow down.

Red means to stop entirely.

Does that work?

From u/R3yoflight

yeah thats good

why don’t you think that we won’t be doing

anything to justify a safe word?

you planning to go easy on me 😈

From u/KyL0_R3N

That depends, sweetheart.

How far are you willing to go?

Rey thinks for a moment. She should have some hard lines set, especially since he’s a total stranger. In fact, she shouldn’t be fucking a stranger at all. But she was in this far, so she may as well go all in.

From u/R3yoflight

i’m not super into choking but a lil breath play

is okay

no extreme bondage or degradation

maybe at some point but just… not now

anything in my ass will require a lot of work

before hand bc not much has been in there.

any hard no’s 4 u?

i’m on birth control so u can come inside me

if you want

From u/KyL0_R3N

I think we should stick to no

bondage/degradation/breath play for now

I’m not super into those anyways.

I’ll keep that in mind about your ass.

Maybe nothing in my ass. For now.

That about covers my no’s.

What are some of you hard yes’s?

From u/R3yoflight

i like being taken control of, dominated, i guess

kissing is big for me but i get it if u don’t like it

also major daddy kink but that can be

controlled if its not ur thing

what do u like

From u/KyL0_R3N

Very much yes to that Daddy kink and kissing.

I lean towards dom anyway, so that should work out.

I like hickeys. Giving and receiving.

I also have pretty good stamina, just a warning.

From u/R3yoflight

i like a man with good stamina ;)

u gonna wear me out tonight? 😈

From u/KyL0_R3N

Yes. Yes I am.

-

She gets there late. Unlike every other time she runs late for something, this time is purposeful. If he gets angry with her, she’ll know to leave. And she’s counting on that. Him giving her a reason to leave. She needs it so she doesn’t do something stupider than what she’s already doing now.

But when she arrives and see’s the absolute mammoth of a man, with long-is black hair and moles and big ears, Rey just knows she’s in for it.

He stands when he sees her. Realistically she knew that 6’3 was tall, but it’s still a bit shocking to her. One of his gargantuan hands is holding a beer, the other resting on the back of the chair. She spends a second too long admiring his form, earning a knowing-but-slight smirk from him.

“You’re Kylo.” It’s an unnecessary statement, because who else could he be, but one that is said all the same.

“And you’re Rey.”

His fucking voice. It’s too beautiful to be addressing her, she’s sure of it.

“Work ran over, that’s why I’m late.” She wasn’t going to give him an excuse, but the words fall out of her mouth.

“I’m familiar with that myself. It’s no trouble, really.” He holds the chair out for her, and she gracefully takes a seat. A server comes around and takes her drink order of a club soda before scurrying off.

“Nothing to relax the nerves?” He question, taking a sip of his drink.

“I prefer to have a clear head for…” She trails off. What does this qualify as? A hook-up? A booty-call? A job interview?

“Good girl.”

Her breath stops for a moment before she remembers its necessary to survive.

“You said you work for a tech company downtown; is it close?” She asks, hoping she sounds passive.

“Not far. I need to be close for tomorrow.” He never looks away from her; it makes her sweat.

The server comes back with her drink, and Rey takes a giant gulp, just for something to preoccupy her mouth.

“You said you work for an auto shop downtown. What do you do there?” He asks, eying her hands curiously. Rey worries that he’ll realize she wasn’t actually at work if her hands aren’t greasy, so she hides them under the table.

“I’m a mechanic,” She tells him, sitting up straighter.

“You’re…” He begins, but she cuts him off.

“A woman mechanic, yes. It’s not entirely uncommon.”

“I was going to say young.” She bites her lip. His voice doesn’t sound like its chastising her, but she feels bad all the same.

“Most men are uncomfortable with the fact that I know more about cars than them.” Rey doesn’t know why she continues to challenge him, but his reactions always surprise her.

It’s… nice.

“Do I seem like I’m uncomfortable by that?”

She regards him. “No, but you did proposition anyone with computer access, so I think your threshold for uncomfortable must be very high.”

He doesn’t laugh, per se, but the corners of his mouth lift and his cheeks become tight. She smiles at the sight.

“Seems that we’re both very bold. A female mechanic and an online propositioner. We make for quite a pair.”

“Hopefully that means the sex will be good.”

Kylo Ren does smile at that.

His hand is on the small of her back when they get in the elevator and Rey is actively trying to ignore the fluttering in her gut, which is why the words blurt out of her.

“My roommate knows where we are!” It’s a loud noise in an otherwise quiet area, but Kylo doesn’t seem startled by it. He just looks down at her. “I have to be back at the apartment, in person, by noon tomorrow or she’s calling the cops.” Rey is quieter now but her voice still shakes.

“My meeting is at 10, so you’ll have plenty of time to get back to your place. I can have my driver drop you off there, if you like,” He says.

“Thats… not why I’m telling you. But that you. I mean, my roommate will know if something bad happens to me. So it would be wise of you to not kill me.” Rey gulps.

Kylo’s hand comes to her face and brushes a piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Rey.” His voice is soft. “I’m not going to kill you, or hit you, or do anything you don’t want me to do.” She’s facing him now. “If you feel uncomfortable, I wouldn’t be mad. You can leave whenever you want.”

“But what do you want? You’ve asked me what I’ve wanted in every interaction we’ve had, but all I know is that you want to fuck somebody so that you’re not nervous or whatever tomorrow. Do you even want me? Or was I just the first person who responded to you post? It goes both ways, ya know. You need to tell me what you want, too.”

His hand brushes the side of her jaw, his eyes trail down her face, no doubt seeing the nervous expression she wears.

“I want you, Rey.”

-

His lips are on hers the moment the door is shut. His hand cradles the back of her head as he shoves his body against hers, pinning her to the wall. His other hand grips her hip and will definitely leave a bruise. She loves it.

But his warm, wet mouth on hers with his plush, pink lips makes any coherent thought leave her head. She moans into his mouth, hands trying desperately to pop open the buttons of his shirt. She makes a sound of frustration when the last stubborn button won’t come undone, and his hands are there in an instant, ripping the thing straight off. She slides her hands along his toned chest as his tongue invades her mouth. When her hands venture further south, they find the more than impressive bulge straining against his slacks.

“I should’ve… asked you earlier…” He says into her mouth as he sucks off the remaining shirt and suit jacket, “if you… like… dirty talk.” Rey keens against him, forcing his mouth to go to her neck as she breathes out a chant of ‘yes, yes, yes.’

Kylo makes a noise of approval before hoisting her into his arms. Rey’s legs instinctively wrap around his hips as he walks them towards the bed.

“Good, because it would be a shame not to be able to tell you that I can’t wait to taste your cunt.”  

Rey has died.

She has died and gone to whatever afterlife will have her.

She never wants to leave it.

“You… don’t… you don’t have to…” She manages to say between kisses. Kylo pulls back from her then, eyes dark, hair a mess, lip red and bitten.

“I want to. Will you let me?” Rey nods so fast she’s worried her neck will be sore. His hands ruck up her cotton dress, until he decides that the offending material will need to be off all together. She’s left in her black bralette and underwear and Kylo stares down at her.

“My tit’s aren’t that big. I’m sorry if you were looking forward to-”

“They’re perfect,” He cuts her off by kissing down her chest, mouthing her nipples through the dark fabric. The heat of his mouth combined with the coolness of the room make her nipples stand at attention, pebbling at the fabric.

Kylo depends further, and puts his entire face against her still-clothed pussy, inhaling and licking her through the fabric. Rey is a whiny mess against the sheets, hair in every direction, full body blush. She hopes he thinks she’s hot because, god, she’s never sen anyone like him.

Kylo takes of her panties and immodestly begins lapping at her cunt, no warning or hesitation, making Rey give something of a moan and a yelp. Her hand goes to his hair, feeling the luscious locks between her fingers. His hands go to her ass, lifting her up slightly so he gets a better angle.

“You’re… too good… at this…” She manages between breaths. Rey would bet anything he’s smirking against her.

Kylo uses his nose to rub at her clit before alternating between kitten licks and sucking on it. It takes no time at all for Rey to come. So quickly, in fact, that she would be embarrassed if she could move. Her whole body is on fire as he licks her through it, occasionally using a hand to brush at her nipples. The tears streaming out of her eyes and drool gathering at the corner of her mouth must make her look ghastly, but Kylo doesn’t seem to mind.

When he finally sits back, still between her legs, she can make out the bulge from earlier, now even more prominent.

He’s looking down at her, at the mess he’s made of her, and against every instinct, she lets him.

“I don’t normally come that fast,” she tells him. Her voice is quiet even now, and she knows it’ll be strained tomorrow. Good, something to remember him by.

“It won’t take me that long to come, either,” he admits, having the kindness to look sheepish as he says it.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Kylo represses a smile.

He gets off the bed, shucking his pants, underwear, and socks off in one felt swoop, leaving him gorgeously bare before her. If she though the bulge was impressive, the real thing is even better. His cock is red and pointed upwards as he stands across from her. His hand goes to pump himself a few times, smearing the precome along his length. Rey can’t help but reach out, whole body going with her as she opens her mouth to bring Kylo towards her. His hand stops her, gently, and she looks up at him in confusion.

“I want to suck you off,” She tells him, brows still furrowed.

“Later,” he tells her.

Kylo pulls her back up the bed with him, so that he hovers over her as he kisses her again. She still taste herself on him, but can’t find the heart to care. Her hands go to wrap around him, feeling the thickness for herself. Huge is an understatement. But Rey’s always been ambitious.

She pumps him a little, feeling him nearly whimper in her mouth.

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” he murmurs.

“Yes… yes please…”

Rey feels his hand come over hers as Kylo slots himself between her legs and aligns his cock to her core. He slides in, slowly, stretching her the whole way. She pants against his skin, digs her nails into his shoulder.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” His voice sounds strained, like he’s holding back from her.

“It’s good, daddy… so good…” she pants.

He whines some curses against her skin as he finishes seating himself inside of her.

“… so good, sweetheart. Takin’ me so well… taking your daddy so well,” He mumbles, pressing kisses to any part of her skin. Rey can already feel the beginning of another orgasm itch inside of her, and for the first time in a while, she has no doubt that Kylo will get her there.

“Daddy… you can move… please,” She’s breathless as she asks him. He groans above her and rest his forehead against hers.

His hips being to move, still slow, but making her breath hitch ever shallow thrust.

“Tight… so tight for me…” He mumbles. Rey takes a minute to look at him, really look at him. He’s flushed, skin damp, but he’s still so very handsome. Moles dot his face and she can’t resist using a hand to trace them. His hair tickles her nose, so she pushes it back behind his ears, which are a bit too big for his head but she adores them.

Kylo lets Rey take him in, but gets her attention back to the moment with a quick snap of his hips.

“Can you come again?” He asks, and Rey nods. His mouth depends on her neck, sucking hickeys to every patch of skin it finds, as he pushes into her. She can feel the bump of his cock every time he bottoms out, a sensation she’s never felt before, and it makes her clench him every time. His hand skates down between them to get to her clit, and he quickly begins rubbing her there.

“Gonna let me fill you with my come? Gonna be a good girl and hold it all in? Can you do that for me baby? Huh?” His words send shivers down her spine, aiding in his pursuit to get her to come again. She mumbles incoherent words of approval, trying to tel him “yes, yes! I’ll be your good girl!” but speech fails her at the moment.

But Rey knows Kylo understands what she’s trying to say.

She feels his rhythm falter and his hand speeds against her clit. She tightens her legs around his hips, trying to wordlessly tell him she’s close too.

“Please, baby, please come for me…” His voice is desperate and strained and makes her shudder. Her hips find purchase against the base of his cock, in combination with the movement of his fingers, and she’s thrust into the abyss again.

Kylo holds her against him as she comes, whole body vibrating, and he follows after her. He grunts against a pillow as he comes, and Rey is distantly aware that he’s actually biting the poor thing. His come is hot within her, and she feels him pulse as he keeps slamming his hips to hers. The slapping of skin slows as she feels his body let go of the tension, and Rey is boneless beneath him.

He lays on her, still half-hard inside of her, as they come down from their mutual high. They are both breathing so heavily that speaking is out of the question, at least for a while. Kylo pulls out of her, and a mad rush of fluid starts to leak out of her. She clenches, remembering his words from earlier.

Part of her expects a coldness afterwards; after all, that’s what most sex has been for her. Once he’s come, he leaves. It’s the oldest story in the book. And for all Kylo’s talk of ‘stamina’, there’s still a part of her that expects it’s just a façade.

But he doest leave her, cold and debauched, to get redressed and make a hasty exit. Instead, he plants a kiss to the side of her jaw and rubs her torso sweetly before helping her sit up. She’s weak, and he knows it.

“We need to get you cleaned up,” He says when she slouch against him. She mumbles something unintelligible into his skin. Instead of getting rough with her, Kylo just soothes her. “Women are 38% more likely to get a UTI if they don’t pee after sex. That’s not a parting gift I’d like to give you,” he elaborates.

Rey sighs, but lets Kylo get her to the bathroom.

-

They sleep in spurts.

For a few hours after their first time, before Kylo wakes her with the incessant press of his hard cock into her abdomen. (He takes her even more slowly that time, sleepy and still blissed out. He comes before she does, but he uses his fingers to get her there, still.)

A few hours after that, Rey makes good on her promise to get her mouth on him, waking him with her mouth already working him. (His come tastes bitter and tangy, but she swallows it because it’s his.) She sits on his face afterwards, letting his tongue get her off again.

The next time she wakes, Kylo is kissing her chest, licking at her now oversensitive nipples. There’s a faint light peaking through the windows and Rey knows their time is coming to an end. She runs a hand through his hair to indicate she’s awake now, but he keeps on in his pursuit. Only when her chest spit-covered and shiny does Kylo seem satisfied with his work, and lifts his head to look at Rey.

“Good Morning,” She mumbles, voice strained as expected, and still groggy from sleep. He hums his response, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips.

Rey glances at the clock, noting its just past 7, when they both sit up in bed. Kylo goes to say something, but is cut off by the grumbling of Rey’s stomach. Her cheeks heat as his voice falls silent.

“Sorry… I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning,” she admits. Kylo’s brow furrows for a moment, but the dark expression passes fleetingly.

“Let’s rectify that first, shall we?”

-

The breakfast menu for room service is extensive, and Kylo orders one of everyone instead of actually looking it over. Rey can only half-heartedly try to tell him it was too much, when her eyes catch a glimpse of the fluffiest looking waffles she’s ever seen. Kylo had only kissed her head and ordered before walking into the shower.

It arrives in record time, a result, she’s sure, of the high-class hotel he got for them. The room, which she’d been too preoccupied to notice last night, is opulent. A bit gaudy for her taste (were gold curtains really necessary), but Rey was in no position to complain. She hesitated to put on actual clothes, instead opting for the plush robe that hung in the wardrobe.

Rey is half into the whole meal when Kylo emerges from the bathroom, towel hung low on his hips and hair still damp. Rey bites her lip so hard she draws blood. He sits across from her, picking up the two plates she hand’t touched.

“Greek Youghert and fruit? Don’t you want a waffle? I saved some whipped cream for you.” She extends the aforementioned whipped cream, earring her a slight smile from Kylo.

“You’re very kind, but no thank you. This is what I eat every morning,” he tells her. Rey scrunches her face. Kylo pours himself some black coffee too, and Rey finds the will to keep her mouth shut.

They eat in companionable silence, Rey scarfing down whatever her hands touch, and Kylo methodically eating his healthy-dude breakfast. Rey notes that neither of them are on their phones; it’s perhaps the first meal she’s had with someone in a while where that’s the case. Like everything else that’s made her heart flutter with him, she tries to ignore it.

Once the table is thoroughly pillaged, Kylo gets up to get dressed and says nothing when Rey hops on the bed and continues to watch him. He’s not embarrassed by nudity, clearly, and tosses the towel away for a solid 5 minutes before putting on underwear.

He’s fully dressed shortly and applies some product to his hair that has writing in french, yet Rey is still wearing only the robe and probably still has his come on her thighs. And other areas.

Part of her thinks he’ll just carry on with his routine as if she’s not there. He’ll pack his suit from the night before and leave the room without an second glance her way. Much to her relief, she’s wrong.

When he’s finally ready, Kylo turns toward her, leans down, and plants a soft kiss directly on her lips. It’s an infinitely more affectionate gesture than she had expected going into this, but a welcome one all the same. He stares fondly down at her when their lips part.

“The room is yours to use until 4 P.M., but I remember you have a noon curfew,” He tells her. Suddenly, Rey regrets telling Rose to call the national guard if she’s not physically in her presence before the clock strikes 12.

“I guess I’ll make do,” She teases.

They fall silent again, and for the second time that morning Kylo goes to say something, but falls short. The silence becomes too much for Rey to bear, so her cursed mouth opens of it on volition.

“I’m not sure how these are supposed to work… one night stands, I mean,” She admits. Something in Kylo’s face falls, but Rey can’t quite tell what.

“I don’t have much experience with these either,” he tells her. Rey shuffles onto her knees, so that they’re both eye-level, and extends her hand. Kylo looks at it with a hint of confusion mixed with amusement.

“Well, you’ve been a wonderful reddit-fuck. Thank you for posting,” she says, giving a mega-watt smile. He sakes her hand.

“And you’ve been a wonderful reddit-fuck-respondent. Thank you for critiquing my going about soliciting sex.” Rey opens her mouth in an exaggerated offense, but Kylo cuts her off with another sweet kiss.  

She melts into it, holding his hair with her hands, letting herself mold to his torso as his tongue swipes her lower lip. The kiss is wonderful and hot and sweet all at the same time and makes her head spin.

When it’s over and she’s caught her breath again, a pang of nervousness infiltrates her consciousness. It’s over, it whispers, you’ll never see him again if you don’t do anything. He’ll leave, just like everyone else, if you let him.

“Do you have any more meetings?” She practically shouts at him. Kylo looks confused for a moment, so she goes on. “I just mean… if you needed someone to help… prepare you for your meetings, there’s a chance I’d be available.” Her voice grows softer as she keeps talking, suddenly feeling like an idiot for suggesting that at all. Before she has a  chance to spiral, Kylo brings her back.

“I do… I mean, I will. That would be… very gracious of you, to offer you help.” She bites her lip to keep from smiling too hard.

“Okay, good.” She nods at him, relief washing over her as she realizes she might not be the only one who doesn’t want to let this go.

It’s a new feeling that probably shouldn’t be attached to a person whom was very clear about their desire for a no-strings hook up, but Rey has always had a preference for things that are challenging.

Kylo Ren seems as good a challenge as any.

-

follow me on twitter!

[hollywooduniversityalumnus]

5. headhunter

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Another day, another lecture.

Thomas paced in front of his students, having abandoned his stance before the lectern more than half an hour ago. With only fifteen minutes left until class ended, and still much to cover, he spoke at a slightly faster speed than usual. He doubted his students noticed; most of them had packed away their notebooks already and were distracting themselves with their phones held in their laps.

Fools, he thought. Do they think I don’t know what they’re doing?

He didn’t have time to raise hell for their insolence; he had a meeting to attend. So, as much as he hated letting things slide, he gritted his teeth and pressed on.

“The more credited ‘writers’ a film has, the worse it will be. The sheer number of revisions a screenplay must go through to rack up six, seven, eight writers . . . it’s appalling!” He rubbed his temples with his fingers, as if trying to erase the memories of his time trying to – and ultimately passing on - play script doctor for an action-adventure franchise that had employed no less than eight writers to cobble together the final, nonsensical storyline that effectively alienated large droves of the franchise’s fans.

Checking his watch, he mentally cursed at the time before heading right for his desk.

“Remember, your papers on prewar and postwar experimental cinema are due next class. Any submissions sent in later than precisely nine o’clock in the morning will be deducted points. None of you could stand to lose any points, if the grades so far for this class this semester are any indication. Class dismissed.”

Thomas turned his attention to packing up his things and hightailing it out of the lecture hall. Yet, beyond the rush of feet moving towards the door and mindless chatter about what people’s plans for the evening were – did I ever consider Wednesday nights party nights in college? he wondered briefly – he could hear a few distinct voices among the din.

“Since when does Hunt check with you before he does something?” he heard Ethan Blake say.

He paused in the middle of stashing away his laptop.

After a pause, Miss Schuyler said, “I just meant . . . don’t you think he’d tell the class before-”

“Are we really discussing this in front of him?” Miss Sinclair stage whispered.

He lifted his head to find the three students still standing by their desks, looking directly at him. Upon capturing his attention, they started at being caught and leapt into extremely unnatural stances: Ethan Blake rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while staring pointedly upwards, Miss Sinclair focused intently on the palms of her hands, and Miss Schuyler . . . was still looking at him, but had pasted a terrifyingly wide smile on her face.

He glanced again at his watch. He truly didn’t have time for this.

Rolling his eyes at the trio, he headed straight for his office to grab his jacket and keys. Then, it was off to the inanely named restaurant where he’d be meeting the faculty recruiter of Southern California University’s film school.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Don’t you think he’d tell the class before ditching us in the middle of the year?” Margot asked. “He isn’t the type to cut and run. I just know he isn’t! We can’t let him leave!”

Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “You’re awfully emotional about this news.”

Margot glared at him over the table grill of Grilling Me Softly, a Korean barbeque restaurant that opened twenty minutes away from the university. Their platters of pork belly, lemon-and-herb marinated chicken, chadolbagi, and bulgogi had arrived, and it was her turn to do the cooking. She tweaked with her hair, which she’d pulled up into Sailor Moon-like buns to keep the long locks from enticing the flames.

The sight of her with metal tong poised in the air and her glare piercing him from across the circular table had Ethan quickly changing his tune.

“It’s good that you care,” he backtracked. “I just . . . if there’s any professor who would evoke that kind of response from me if there were rumours of them leaving, it would be, like, Moriyama. Someone with a heart.”

Addison, who was already digging into her portion of their wild mushroom japchae starter, nodded, cheeks bulging with food.

“He did defend me in my hearing, or have you forgotten?” Margot picked up a few pieces of meat from each plate and dropped it onto the grill, reveling in the satisfying sizzle and steam that instantly came out upon contact. “He’s not so bad.”

Addison dabbed at the corners of her lips with a napkin. “Okay, but how are we going to convince him to stay?”

A body slid into one of the seats next to Ethan so suddenly that the agent nearly leapt from his. Crash, smiling broadly, immediately reached for a bowl of soft rice and egg, chopsticks at the ready in the blink of an eye.

“Convince who?” he asked.

“Jesus, Crash,” Ethan said, pressing a hand over his heart to calm it.

“We’re convincing Jesus?”

Margot rolled her eyes. “Where’s Lisa? Didn’t she give you a ride here?”

Crash, around a mouthful of egg, mumbled something about paparazzi. Margot craned her head around just in time to see her pink-haired friend arrive, settling into the seat beside her while keeping her gaze focused on one of the booths in a corner of the restaurant.

“Hey, Lisa,” she said, turning the meat over with precision.

Lisa wrangled her hair into a high ponytail, securing it with an acid-green scrunchie that clashed horrendously with her outfit and made Addison mentally weep at the fashion faux pas. She finally tore her gaze away from the corner and shot them all a look.

“Hunt’s here,” Lisa said.

Margot’s eyes widened. “Here? In a place called Grilling Me Softly? There’s no way.”

Ethan snickered. “I feel like he’d disintegrate before he’d set foot in a university student hangout, much less one with a punny name.”

“Maybe it’s another man who wears a suit every minute of every day,” Crash suggested.

“Uh, this ‘university student hangout’ is more expensive than our usual fish and chips or burger joints,” Lisa pointed out. “Still, isn’t it strange? And who is that woman he’s with?”

Margot’s cheeks flushed at the mention of a woman.

Not that she had any claim on him whatsoever. She wasn’t even sure of her feelings for him anymore. Sure, they had . . . something, but it wasn’t clear what it meant to him, and she didn’t want to act like a fool for him if he was solely focused on being her instructor.

Maybe he’s a friend now, she considered. He’s done some friendly things. He’s held his umbrella over me, drove me home after the date auction, and comforted me on the movie set. He didn’t have to do those things, but he did.

He also kissed me, she reminded herself, and she quickly busied herself with replacing the meat on the grill with new slabs, distributing the cooked pieces to her hungry friends.

Meanwhile, with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, Ethan maneuvered his head until he caught a glimpse of the professor sitting in the corner booth. He squinted at the person he was seated across before turning back to his friends, a mixture of awe and shock on his face.

“Penelope Locke,” he said in a hushed voice. “Headhunter for Southern California U.”

Lisa’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Like an assassin?”

“Who would eat dinner with their assassin?” Ethan replied.

Crash smiled. “I would, just to say I did.”

“You wouldn’t have survived-”

“Guys.” Margot turned her attention back to Ethan. “A headhunter, eh? So he really must be considering leaving Hollywood U.”

Her stomach twisted. Though the smell of the sizzling beef and pork belly was intoxicating, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to eat any of it knowing that Professor Hunt was sitting across the room possibly planning his escape.

And then the dak kalguksu she ordered came, and her stomach untwisted itself in anticipation of the noodle soup she’d been craving for weeks.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Across the crowded restaurant, Thomas tasted the plum wine Penelope Locke ordered for them both and sighed. It wasn’t scotch, but it would tide him over until he could get home and have a few fingers from his favourite bottle before bed.

The woman sitting across from him knew his game already, but still pitched him on an open faculty position at SCU Cinematic Arts. But mostly, she kept her expression serious, even when they endured the forty-five minute “meeting” with mostly small talk and occasional glances at the paparazzi waiting for . . . whoever was important enough to be present and photographed at a place called Grilling Me Softly.

Eventually, the bill arrived. Penelope tucked a credit card into the black leather booklet quickly and handed it back to them. Thomas polished off his wine before slipping out of his seat.

“Thank you, Penelope,” he said quietly.

“Anything for a friend.” Penelope’s face was carefully blank as she added, “The paparazzi was a nice touch. They’ll hear about this meeting in no time.”

“Perfect.” He pulled on his coat. “Though I admittedly didn’t plan that part.”

He turned his head to survey the room, searching for the person who had attracted the photographers outside like moths to the table grill’s flames. A shock of pink hair that he usually saw in a bedhead disarray caught his attention, and he groaned internally at noticing that Miss Schuyler and her entourage (including the celebrity in question, Lisa Valentine) were stuffing themselves with near-reckless abandon.

“Do you know them?” Penelope asked, tilting her chin towards the group.

Thomas grimaced. “Yes. I’ll admit I’ve never seen them eat before. It’s . . . rather disturbing.”

Penelope laughed. “Good thing we arrived when we did. They might bankrupt this restaurant yet.”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The week after his meeting with Penelope, Thomas settled behind his desk in the lecture hall as his Hollywood 101 class filed in slowly. He had already laid out the grading rubrics for the students presenting their midterm projects that day. And, as the presentations began, he immediately regretted staying out a little later than usual the night before, catching up with an old colleague who had since become Hillview Film Academy’s recruiter.

Seriously, Thomas thought, Lance’s continued attendance at this university is inconceivable. Who does a midterm presentation on “glossy, tangle-taming hair masks for the modern male model”?

When it came to Miss Sinclair’s presentation, however, he was admittedly impressed by the line of men’s business suits she had come up with. Though he felt she should have cited a more recent point of inspiration than Mad Men or Sex and the City, he marked her accordingly, noting the special craftsmanship and detail-conscious care that she had put into every suit on display.

I wouldn’t mind wearing the gray one . . .

Clearing his throat authoritatively, he spoke up. “I’m surprised at your drastic change in artistic direction, Miss Sinclair. I hope you have defended your decisions in the accompanying write-up.”

Miss Sinclair nodded.

Thomas checked his list. “Finally, Mister Yamaguchi.”

Spencer Yamaguchi grinned, already making his way to the door. “All right! I’ve got it all set up in one of the auditoriums. It’s a one-man show about a plucky hero, who struggles with his-”

“Save it for the show, Mister Yamaguchi.” Thomas sighed as he looked at his neatly organized desktop. “And in future, please inform us beforehand if we are to move locations for project presentations. That goes for all of you.”

Grumbling, Thomas picked up his rubrics and laptop and herded the class to the auditorium. While they settled into their seats, Mister Yamaguchi disappeared behind the red velvet curtains that obscured the stage. Among the murmuring of the students waiting for the show to begin, Thomas could hear a microphone check and a five-second snippet of music being tested on the sound system.

The lights went down.

The curtains came up.

A spotlight turned on, illuminating a backdrop of two-dimensional high-rises and streets edged with trees and parked cars.

And the song that had begun to play as part of the sound system check began and continued as the protagonist appeared.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Welcome to The Many Adventures of the Amazing Arachnid Boy!” crowed Crash from where he dangled from the ceiling, parallel to the stage. “I’m your host, Arachnid Boy himself, and this is the story of . . . me.”

From behind her, Margot could hear Professor Hunt snort. Hearing such an undignified sound from him made her smile.

The hip-hop beat kicked in, and Crash began climbing a cardboard skyscraper, freestyling about his new superpowers without stumbling over his words. His dark red leather jacket had an iron-on spider-shaped patch on the back, and he turned around to show the audience it as the song slowed down for a melancholy bridge.

“No one knows my pain, no one knows the strain,” Crash sang, “on my mental health, gotta be so stealthy . . . I know I seem witty, ‘cause I fly above the city, but when I stop, I can’t stop, I won’t stop . . .”

The beat kicked back in, and he jumped around and immediately leapt to the next cardboard building with exuberance.

“I can’t risk someone getting the drop on me, finding out my identity, putting the serenity of my family at risk . . . ya hear me, villains? Take a shot at me, you’d better not miss!”

As Crash’s show continued, Margot snuck glances over her shoulder at the professor. He seemed more shocked than anything else, and his pen was moving at lightning speed over the paper he had balanced on a clipboard.

Hopefully those are good notes, she thought.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

After Mister Yamaguchi’s self-insert rip-off of an existing superhero defeated its archenemy, the Emerald Elf, the audience around Thomas jumped to its feet in raucous applause. Thomas brought his hands together twice before returning to his notes, jotting down some last-minute observations – rhymed “city” with “litty”; did the Emerald Elf need a self-deprecating R&B solo? – and then ushering the class back into the lecture hall.

“Our presenters for next class are Miss Valentine, Miss Stone, Mister Ortega, Miss Perez, Jayden, and Miss Schuyler. The remaining students will be presenting the following class. Until then, class dismissed.”

As Thomas unlocked his laptop to begin inputting grades, he sensed someone sidling up to him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who might be approaching him.

“Hello, Professor,” Miss Schuyler said softly. Her bag was already slung over her shoulder. A quick glance to the door indicated that her friends were leaving her behind; he almost wished he could call them back in, to make sure that whatever it was she had to say was said in front of witnesses.

After the Fairy Kingdom Formal, he’d felt odd whenever he so much as looked at her. He wasn’t sure what to make of the new sensation. He worried that it meant something. But it couldn’t, could it? She was a decade younger than him. She was his student. It couldn’t be-

She told you about her childhood, he reminded himself. She confided in you. It’s not love. It’s you worrying over how she lived when she was younger. That’s all.

He wanted his thoughts to stop right there, but they kept coming anyway, like a second inner voice had joined the conversation to argue a different opinion.

You knew it was her at the masquerade. You spoke with her. You danced with her. You kissed her.

Stop.

You took care of her when she was hungry, cold, and sad. You slept in the same bed as her.

It meant nothing. It was nothing-

You drove her to her dorm after Chris Winters left her in the aquarium. She told you she thought you mattered to her, and you lived off that feeling for days after.

Stop-

You held your umbrella over her. You helped her get to her ride home with little incident.

That doesn’t mean anything-

You like her.

Stop-

You might even love-

“Professor?”

He blinked and found himself staring up at a very concerned Margot.

“Are you all right?” She adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “I was just . . . did you like Crash’s musical?”

He felt a bit dizzy. “It was interesting,” he said slowly.

“Good interesting?”

He cocked his head to the side, which didn’t help the vertigo. “I always find it fascinating when students suddenly decide that their passions have changed, Miss Schuyler.”

And, though she was an admittedly talented actress, Margot did not hide her nervousness. “Oh, yeah. I see how that could be interesting.”

“Might you know anything about Mister Yamaguchi and Miss Sinclair’s newfound passions?” he asked, mostly to see her squirm.

There, see? he told himself. I revel in making her uncomfortable, in treating her just like all my other students. This “love” theory is absolute bull-

“Maybe.” Her eyes widened comically. “I mean. Um. That’s all. Bye.”

She sped-walked out of the hall, and Thomas took a minute to gather himself before turning back to his laptop.

Sifting through his notes, he took extra time with Miss Sinclair and Mister Yamaguchi’s rubrics. They had both delivered impressive projects, ambitious if a bit contrived, but if her reaction was anything to go by, Miss Schuyler had something to do with their sudden fascinations in suits and musical theatre.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

He can’t leave. He just can’t.

Margot had been standing in the main building of the university with her friends, rehashing Lisa’s surprise operatic performance as well as her own avant-garde film she directed, when she saw him hurrying towards a clearly marked administrator’s office. Though his stride was purposeful, and he attracted attention wherever he went due to his being Thomas Hunt and all, something about him radiated the energy of a man who did not want to be seen.

Before knocking on the door, she watched the professor take a deep breath.

And then he stepped through the doorway and out of view, leaving her to draw her own conclusion.

“I hope we did enough to convince him to stay,” she said quietly.

Lisa placed a hand on her shoulder. “If my rendition of Pavarotti didn’t convince him, I doubt anything could.”

“He did like your film, Margot,” Addison said reassuringly. “He didn’t trash it or anything!”

“Sad how that’s a good sign, isn’t it?” Ethan lamented.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The first class after the midterm project presentations was mostly silent. Thomas had planned it that way; after hearing some of the most illogical projects from this class, he wanted a break from them in a way that still kept them on track with the semester work. He was playing a series of short silent films on the projection screen while he finalized the midterm grades, and apart from some minor whispering – another thing he’ll temporarily turn a blind eye to, as he simply did not have the energy after faking so many recruitment meetings the past ten days – it was peaceful.

“Any word about Hunt’s job situation?”

Or not.

Before Miss Sinclair could reply, Thomas cleared his throat.

“Miss Schuyler. Care to share with the rest of us what you were about to ask Miss Sinclair?”

He’d never seen Miss Schuyler’s cheeks so red. They almost suited her, drawing attention to her high cheekbones-

Stop.

“Not with the rest of the class, no, Professor,” she murmured.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Then perhaps you will share it with me . . . after class. My office.”

She nodded, turning her attention back to her worksheets.

And, as he similarly went back to his own work, he fought to keep the grin off his face.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“You wanted to see me?”

He leaned back in his chair, setting his arms on the structured arm rests of his chair. “I know what you and your friends have been doing. Don’t play dumb. Miss Sinclair designing suits, Mister Yamaguchi doing a musical, Miss Valentine singing opera.”

She winced. “I guess we were kinda obvious.”

He rolled his eyes. “Extremely obvious.”

“Did it work? Are you gonna stay?”

Was he imagining the eagerness in her voice? The hope that permeated those questions, as if she wanted him to remain at the university, to continue being her professor? He worried he was projecting, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that made him feel . . .

Made him feel.

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

She shook her head hard enough that her earrings clacked against her neck. “No. No, I – don’t leave.” She caught herself and added, in a much less emotionally wrought voice, “In my opinion, anyway.”

He looked at her, taking in her slightly trembling hands.

She looked at him, noting the curiosity in his eyes.

Desperate to know what the other one was thinking, but afraid of what they might be thinking of, they stared for a long moment in silence, trying and failing to read each other simply from body language.

Finally, he said, “Then it’s a good thing I was never planning on leaving anyway.”

She let out a sigh – of relief? he wondered – and sunk into the chair opposite him. Instantly relaxing into his own seat, he watched her take a few calming breaths before looking back at him with a new question burning in her eyes.

“Wait, so if you were never planning to leave, then why did you meet with those admins from other schools?”

He smirked. “For leverage during salary negotiations, obviously. I only do it when I feel it’s necessary, and this past year has been quite trying, particularly due to some students.” He looked pointedly at her, and she feigned shock.

“Crash’s musical was ingenious,” she argued.

“Stan Lee’s estate is on its way with a lawsuit as we speak,” he said dryly. “Dr. Seuss could – and has – written better verses.”

“Those are fighting words, Professor.” Margot’s eyes twinkled. “Crash could write The Cat in the Hat, but Dr. Seuss could not write ‘Emerald Elf Hates His Emerald Self.’”

[jupesplant]

Ok, hear me out

Dabihawks Spies are Forever AU

Contains major Spies Are Forever Spoilers, so go watch it. Seriously, It's a really good musical and it's complete and professionally recorded on YouTube, give it a try.

So, the Hero Commission is the equivalent of the American Secret Service, and Hawks is the codename for their best agent on the field, Keigo Takami.

On the other side, the equivalent of MI6 is Endeavor, and their top agent is Touya Todoroki, the son of the head himself.

Being the best of their respective agencies they get paired up a lot for international missions. This happens so often that they call each other 'partner'.

(Yeah that's totally the reason they're definitely not close in any other way hahaha)

"Personal history does have its benefits, Takami"

The "banana incident" happens basically the same way, but the building is on fire when Touya falls, so Keigo reasons that there is no way he survived.

Cue four years of grieving and alcoholism

Keigo comes back to the spy business in Touya's memory, telling himself he would have wanted it.

And blah blah blah angst angst angst you know the drill

The informant is either Twice or Toga (Y'know, because of the master of disguise thing)

So Hawks goes to burst and arms deal and sees this guy named Dabi a.k.a the Deadliest Man Alive.

He has black hair and is covered in burns and Holy Shit are those staples????

He seems weird, especially the way he said you when he saw him was bitter, almost as if he was an old enemy.

He didn't say much though, because he escaped, Mr.Compress (Sergio) escaped too and the bomb he was supposed to intercept was taken by a Russian spy under the codename Miruko.

(Yes Miruko is Tatiana because I love them both leave me alone)

So yeah, not a good mission.

He comes back to the headquarters and his boss gives him the lecture of his life while offhandedly mentioning that the Prussian Prince is an incapable little shit.

Because F O R E S H A D O W I N G

(I still don't know who could be Cynthia or Barb, help plz)

Anyway his boss sends him to get the bomb back from the Russian spy.

One flight to a casino and a gay flashback later he finds her and tries to flirt his way through the mission.

Yeah, it fails miserably.

But whatever, it's time to introduce Varon Von Nazi Shigaraki.

(Bear with me, this concept is hilarious)

So, Miruko turns out to be working with Shiggy and Dabi. She guides him to them and they hear Shigaraki sing his fucked up song about All For One not being so bad and that they need to kidnap the Prussian Prince in his presentation gala because of reasons.

This convinced a total of zero people because...well, Nazis All for one.

Y'all know what's coming.

T O R T U R E T A N G O

Yeah that's pretty much the same, I just love all the foreshadowing this song has.

Meanwhile Miruko has a sudden change of heart and saves Hawks. He's about to escape but he gets a gay flashback and gets shot.

And while everything happens, the presentation gala is about to start!

(The prince is whoever you want him to be, for me it's Mineta lmao)

Hawks arrives limping and tries to warn his boss, but it's too late.

The prince is dead and everyone is panicking.

Miruko and Hawks go to his mom's safehouse and talk about their tragic backstories.

Rumi talks about being a trained assassin for the KGB and Keigo opens up about being insecure that he'll ever live up to the name Hawks.

Cue compulsory heterosexuality.

Don't worry it doesn't last.

"I'm... you're not my type"

"So you're into-"

"Yeah"

"Ah"

Anyway back to the mission.

They meet up with whoever is Barb and the informant to get really drunk and get back to acction.

The informat sneaks in the conference room as a Prussian politician and hears Shigaraki singing his song about All For One not being so bad and the stupid politicians buying it.

Hawks and Miruko enter, but just as Shigaraki is going to do his "you're too late" speech, Dabi shoots him.

He looks at Keigo in the eyes and says "Personal history does have its benefits, Takami"

It can't be.

It can't be his Touya.

His Touya would never hurt him.

His Touya would never let him believe he was dead for four years.

But there he was. The same bright blue eyes. The same smirk. The same three piercings on his nose. The same voice.

"...Touya?"

Dabi smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

It was like every single one of his gestures was the same once he realized it, but just a little off.

He monologues about this new system that will expose everyone's secrets and lies and end with all the spies, and that he needed the silicone in the Prussian land to make it.

Cut to the chase.

Y'all know what's comming, again.

THE STAIRCASE SCENE.

"What about our secret? The moments we shared. The feelings when had...for each other"

Dabi lowers his gun, pointing at Hawks heart rather than his head, with doubt clear in his eyes, before lifting it again.

"That secret died the night you left me for death. There's this thing called moving on Keigo, do give it a try"

"...Of course"

Keigo shoots the gun out of Dabi's hand.

Dabi scoffed.

"Y'know killing me won't take the sistem offline so, what are you gonna do?"

"Follow your advice"

A gunshot rang as Touya Todoroki's body hit the floor.

So yeah, that's about it.

I also have a little subplot about Hawks being bitter at Shoto for taking Touya's spot as "the best of Endeavor" after his death and Shoto just wanting to meet the great Hawks and learn about his friendship with his brother so tell me if you want to check it out.

WATCH SPIES ARE FOREVER IT'S GREAT.

[spacegaywritings]

Cursing into Emancipation - Chapter 1/2

Casper x Remus (friends) FLUFF

Summary: Remus and Casper are best friends and usually spend a lot of time together but this time is different because this time, Remus teaches him how to curse.

Tags: SFL (1 paragraph of slight angst hints) swearwords, one single tear? Slight hints at bad relationships, Not u!Deceit., weapon mention (sword), dragons

Casper is my friend’s OC - he is Attachment, the pink side and responsible for how Thomas forms relationships and how he presents himself in these.

Tumblr: 1 / 2. || ao3: 1 / 2 // all.

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Story under the cut:

“So, I will tell you how this game works and you just join in! Promise it is fun fun fun!!”

Remus bounced on his spot, slightly jumping off the floor as he did so. His body was wiggling in his excitement and the whole imagination seemed to wobble with him. Like some Jell-o (TM), the walls were shaking as if having been poked before by a hungry, curious child and their fork which has a high level of stabbyness.

Casper looked at him, his heart-shaped freckles slightly glowing. It was dull yet still present. His eyes with irises just like his freckles, stared at his best friend with a quizzical look in his loving orbs. Attachment did not always understand the other sides but usually, he would understand Remus a bit better compared to especially Logan or Deceit.

“Is it a new game? I thought we wanted to go adventuring!”

He pointed at the pink little sword he had with him. His heart swelled in pride when he looked at the precious little stabbing machine Remus had gifted him. It was baby pink like the broken heart on his shirt.

“The imagination does not look like a dragon cave and we wanted to ride dragons today!”, he argued, his voice dipping into a little pout, “Why would you want to play something different? Dragons are cool.”

He lowered his voice, mouth sealing itself at once as Remus’ excitement dropped off his mustache for just a moment. Casper was Attachment, a rather complex side. He did not deal well with any sort of deception. Remus, more than any other side, knew about this. The pink side brushed over his wrist, his fingers gliding over the numerous friendship bracelets adorning it, They all corresponded to certain sides Casper had befriended. He pressed his lips together as if to absorb the offensive words he had just pronounced. With a deep breath, he felt the anxiety rising within him slowly being smothered the more he rubbed over the different bracelets.

The Duke was already by his side, popping up at once and snuggling up to his side.

“You will love it, I promise! I know you really want to ride dragons but I can be your dragon and you can ride me during the game!”

Remus leaped into the floor, suddenly disappearing into a green cloud of smoke which quickly faded into a transparent fog brushing over the ground. It gave way to the tall set of scales coming from Remus, the dragon. He was dressed in charcoal and grass scales, his wings spreading as he crawled over the floor to his friend, his nose getting into his face and nudging Casper’s human nose.

“Play with me?~”

The soft, playful wink in his intonation let a smile appear on Casper’s face, turning the unhappy lips into a content curve.

“I can ride you?”

Remus giggled, a bit of anthracite smoke escaping his large muzzle. He has always had a bit of a big mouth but as a dragon, it was even more evident just how big it was. Like the loyal friend he was, he flexed his back and lowered onto his crooked legs. His whole form was barely bigger than his usual human form which made it easier for Casper to swing himself onto his back and snuggle up, his cheeks soon lit up in excitement and warmth.

Remus responding to him and accepting him and his boundaries was a nice thing. The “dark side” of Creativity was never too superior or good to play with Casper. He would never degrade his friends or judge him for his personality.

“Remus! Remus! I am tall!”, he giggled.

The taller friend joined in, giggling himself as the younger side held onto him by wrapping his arms around his neck for stability.

“Listen, Casper, we will fly and you fuel my flight with your bad words!”

Before Casper could react, maybe even object, Remus roared like a lion, his sudden outburst deafening and silencing at the same time. He hopped up a bit before falling into the floor which was suddenly gone in favour of a huge blackness that swallowed the two friends up. The pink side tightened his grasp around the dragon’s gargantuan neck, carefully sliding closer to even let his legs wrap around the dragon.

“REEEEE!”

They were free falling, the loud sound of the whistling air swooshing past them accompanying their sudden journey. Below them, a kingdom of greens and white stretched out. Cloud-like mountains towered over the valley while green plants wrapped around the landscape greedily, readily. A river, turquoise like the gem and sparkling like Casper’s heart-freckles.

Back to the two sides, Casper was till screeching the life out of his throat while Remus was giggling, cheering and howling in happiness.

“CAS, THIS IS AMAZING!”

Attachment hugged his neck closer, his grip tighter than chains.

“THIS IS SCARY! THIS IS SCARY!!”, he screeched, although he could not deny the rush of adrenaline tickling his imaginary veins. He was basically glued to the dragon, still screeching at the still ongoing fall while the queer laughter from Remus filled the air.

It was then that he remembered what his best friend had told him when they had started their fun time together. ..cursing?

“Ree,... Ree, this is really dumb of you...?”

His swearing sounded like a question, unsteady and subtle like his long lashes compared to the curly mess of hair on his head. While he was barely audible, Remus came to a sudden halt, so unexpectedly, that Cas got tossed into the air. His body was twisting and turning in the sudden free... flight? It was not a fall but it was certainly just as terrifying to his poor little heart shrinking in his contracting chest.

“REE! REE!”

Casper squeaked in terror, his fear of survival taking over and making him emit sounds rivalling the squeals of excited mice. To his relief, the dragon was trustworthy and loyal as always and shot up to catch the little boy on his scaled back.

“Ree!”

Casper hugged his friend who immediately giggled out once more.

“Got’cha, bra!”

The pink side lost all his fear.

“What is a bra?”

Remus contemplated for a moment before simply conjuring a sports bra to show him. The downside of his impulsive action was demonstrated by the physical phenomenon called “gravity” which quickly sucked the piece of clothing down to the ground.

The dragon shrugged his arms. His shoulders were kind of busy, what were you thinking?

“Anyway, you is a bra! Now curse at me or I will not fly any further! Your bad words are my fuel!”

Casper blinked at the comment but nodded softly.

“Okay. Well, then”, he huffed in spite, his lips twitching into a defiant pout, “be prepared for a big workout for your wings because I know a lot of words for meanies!”

Remus flapped his wings at a sharp angle, waiting for his bestest friend of all the times to start whenever he was ready.

He was ready. He was clearing his throat, letting go off the neck at last and leaning back to loosen up a bit. The pink side shook his arms a bit and stretched his legs before he was all straightened up and sitting cross-legged on his friend.

“Alright. Here we go.”

Casper closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his mouth already opened to let the first word slip out. It danced on his tongue before stumbling down his lips and accidentally falling out  of his mouth.

“Poophead”

Silence.

A blush started to burn onto his cheeks, leaving him with a pinkish tint to play veil for his freckles.

“Butt!”, he said, a bit more pressure behind his words.

Remus was still silent but his muzzle curves the slightest bit into something akin to a smile.

“Assbutt!, ah, um..”, Attachment continued, his words getting louder and sounding more like an insult, a judgement rather than a question or suggestion, “stuck-up idiot! Prussy!”

A laughter pushed itself out of Remus, immediately shooting out along with a few delicate flames in red and green.

Shweeeeesh!

The fire quickly dispersed, unlike his giggles. Remus started curling up on the air, his back arching and flexing enough to make Casper shift back to his neck and hold onto it for comfort and support.

“Cas- wihihihihi”, Remus started but broke off at soon as the first syllable left his mouth. The dragon wiggled his wings every few flaps, letting them excitedly and rapidly flapflapflap in sync to his happy giggles.

“This is not a word, Casper! I will teach you the real one!”

Remus crooked his neck enough to look back at his friend, his tongue slipping out a bit. Slowly, he opened it and let his tongue roll out before he let his features twitch in exaggeration. This was him teaching the other just how to pronounce these delicacy of the English language properly.

“Pris-sy.”

Casper nodded, carefully forming his mouth in imitation of whatever the apple Remus had just done to move his. To say he was a bit confused and overwhelmed was an understatement but as promised, he was riding a dragon. Even if he was in a situation he would have never even dreamed of - despite being the closest friend to Remus out of all the other sides.

“Prithy”

He blinked innocently. His mouth went from slightly agape back to closed with a simple and dull “plop”.

The dark side snickered and pushed his head against Casper’s for a moment, softly nudging his friend for encouragement.

“Exczalente!”, he praised softly.

Remus could see the pinkish tint return to his cheeks, he could notice the little hearts glowing. The wide smile on his lips pushed little dimples into his cheeks.

“Now, continue with me: Pus-sy. Piss. Prick.”

Casper continued as instructed while Remus flew them to a nearby mountain to land on.

“Say them again but with anger!”

Doubt brushed over his face but only for a moment before kissing Casper’s sensitive skin goodbye. Anger? Sounded... sounded like something he did not want to have, sounded like something Patton and Virgil would not like. Not that they really approved of him being around Remus a lot anyway. His heart seemed to shrink painfully at the realisation.

“I mean it, Cas, you need to go out there and yell a bit and let the frustration out or you will get very bad thoughts like Thomas got when he repressed me!”

Remus nudged him again with his head before flapping his wings one more time and finally returning to his regular and more “human”-looking body.

“If you never let out that sneaky, meanie side of yours, you might end up like a real boogieman instead.”

His voice turned more shrill and obscene than before and something about the second-to-last word made Casper shiver. There was so much more behind this than Remus directly said but he knew it, he understood it. Nodding, he carefully climbed off Ree’s back and patted his clothing.

The mostly champagne pink shirt was covered in bits of dirt. Wearing clothings of lighter colours usually equated in being dirty in no time. Casper knew that from experience but also because Patton told him a lot when he came to him, being dirty and soiled like the kid he was.

When he got up, he looked around a bit, looking into the abyss surrounding them. Being on a mountain was really just a really long and lonely hill. You could even call it acute. He knew that word from Logan! It was a fancy one.

Casper looked down, taking in the view of clouds surrounding them not too far away. If Remus had been a bit higher, they could have flown through some of them. A dash of remorse hit him just to be quickly blown away by the breezy of determination. Remus had said that his mean words would fuel him... if he said a lot of things, maybe that would be enough to get them to the clouds!

The pink side turned around and ran up to his tall friend-man!

“Ree!!!”, he squeaked softly as he cuddled up to his side. The excitement was quite literally written in his face - not the literal Logan would use but still! - since his pretty hearts started glowing again, making his heart-shaped irises stand out just a bit more, “If I curse really well, can we go and fly through clouds? They look so fluffy and I never touched them! I really really wanna touch one and maybe bite into one? They look delicious..”

He started rambling, a slightly quieter monologue on how soft and comfortable these squishy things would have to be - or were they beings? If they were beings, could they move? COULD HE RID A CLOUD?! Holy, maybe he and Ree could share one and they could cuddle when riding a funny cloud and have a lot of fun and poke other clouds and tell them that they are really pretty and make sad days happy again! Especially on these days when time was like an old, wet gum and he would not know what to feel or do until he would see the happy shapes of all these clouds parading for him. Did clouds actually parade?

Remus caught him mid-thought and -sentence and carefully ruffled his hair. Just a moment after this, Casper could not breathe really well because the mustache monkey got down to his level to squeeze him and hug him a lot and Casper squealed with the last bit of oxygen in his lungs to express his happy feelings.

“Wiii!!! We can? We can!!”

Remus suddenly put his friend up onto his shoulders and patted his back, a happy smile on his face. He was so smiley, the pink side was sure he smiled more and more... more genuinely than Patton did despite being a joke-y man! It was amazing but his bestest friend really was just that great!

“Watch me say scary things! They make you strong, Cas. It can help you stand up against people when they make you feel sad or angry”

Remus carefully patted his legs as if to reassure Attachment. He was not quite sure why until-

“YOU FUCKING BONELESS, SHITFACE OF USELESS HUMAN WASTE!!!”

The Duke yelled. Yelled hard. Casper quickly hugged his neck with his legs and entangled his fingers in the curly dark and grey hair of his friend.

The mountains were still throwing away more silent versions of whatever the sugar fairy he had said before. It was an amazing “sight” to the ears and Casper could not help but stare at the wide wide canyon of green tints, crystal blues, fiery oranges, sunset purples and milky whites. Everything before them was spread out to reflect Remus’s loud words back onto them and their ears.

It sounded powerful to still be around and haunt the mountains and howling abysses when moment after moment had passed. When Casper took a deep breath, it felt as if he was breathing in the mean words. Maybe, in a strange way, it was fueling him and encouraging him to do as his friend demonstrated him.

His grip on the curly mess of his friend’s hair slowly eased up and he sighed. Somehow, the yelling had even relieved him despite Casper being rather upset whenever people yell.

“M-meanie!”

His fingers found Creativity’s face and he rapidly yet gently patted his cheeks. Even if he tried to hurt someone, Casper’s punches were nothing but the sneeze of a fly. Remus snickered and playfully tried to bite one of Casper’s rapidly moving fingers, his lips closing around the air just a sheet’s thickness away from his finger tips.

“Ree, staaaa~hp”, Casper whined under his breath. His voice was crowded by the little giggles yapping out of his lungs. The amusement made him curl around Remus’s head as if to hug it with the whole of his being. “Reeeeeeee, don’t laugh~”

He kicked his feet slightly, a bout of energy bolting through his tiny legs.

“But you are so cyuuute when you are laughing!”

Casper blew his cheeks up in a big pout, turning his face a bit rounder than it already was. It was soft with childhood and his young innocence.

“P-PUSSY!”

Attachment drew in another deep breath.

“PRISSY!”, he shouted freely. His heart growing little wings when he pronounced the swearwords, “PRICK!”

His friend’s incredulous giggles had changed over to violent cheers by now. He was vigorously advocating for the younger side to keep going, to be louder and more mean with his words.

More and more words rolled off his tongue, his brain eagerly providing more and more words from combination and memory of actual terms. By now, Casper’s cheeks were tinted in shades of pink to red. Even his heart-shaped freckles were shining a bit, more so than before when he expected to go adventuring with Remus! The blush on his cheeks grew darker and something in his eyes seemed to be veiled by the increasing darkness around them.

“Snakeface”, he whispered.

A tear rolled down his face but he sniffled it away and continued, in a shaky whisper “liar”. Casper shook his head, his fingers carefully brushing over the patient cheeks and caressed them ever so slightly. His heart was aching but also resonating with the pain vibrating in his vocal chords, burning in his throat and pulling at his eyes enough to force more tears out.

Remus carefully lifted him up.

“Wanna ride into the evening?”

Oh.

Casper looked up.

For some reason, he has stared into the abyss all this time but did not notice the sun lowering enough to start and disappear just a bit behind all these large mountains. Mountains were just twig-like giant hills, he reminded himself.

“Hey, Ree?”, he asked softly as he tapped his feet on the ground, reminding himself of what it felt like to stand and feel something grounding him physically. The pink side rested himself against his friend’s side as per usual.

A warm arm clasped around him and drew him close enough for a half hug.

“Yeah?”

Casper closed his eyes softly, a longing smile sneaking onto his lips.

“Do you think the sun wants to play hide and seek with us but is really bad at it?”

Remus smiled.

“Wanna go and find out?”

The smaller one smiled. “Eh! Yes! Of course!!! Why would you ask, I always want to do things if it is with you!”

He wrapped his arms around his friend’s arm around him and gently squeezed it before giving him the space to turn into a dragon again. He swiftly swung himself up his back and hugged him close. This time, fear did not make him grip any tighter at all. There was comfort and love between them when the friends slowly glided into the warmth of orange hints the sun left for them.

“Tomorrow we can ride dragons together!”

Casper shook his arms immediately.

“And clouds! We need to ride clouds! Can we do that?”

Remus giggled, letting them drop a whole bunch of feet before taking a radical curve around a mountain.

“Logan would say ‘no’ but I will show you otherwise~”

Their laughter intertwined vocally and Casper stretched out his arms to try and reach for the sun’s warming rays. They were so beautifully rosy by now, just like the colour to represent him and adorn his logo.

“Anyway, my favourite word you said today was totally this ‘assbutt’ one!”

“Reee! Nuuuu!”

“Hahaha! Yesss!”

[bnha-imagines-hcs]

uwu i want angst and sorry if this is too triggering but is it okay to do dabi, present mic and shinsou where they get in a super heated fight w their s/o and the boys do a quick movement to run their hands through their hair or like hand gesture and its so fast their s/o thinks they’re going to hit them and they heavily flinch and then the guys find out shes had like an abusive past i love ur writing so much crie

( no, this is okay ❤❤❤ i won’t write a prompt of charas beating their s/o, but this is good. | warning for grade A asshole in dabi’s. | wherein present mic is the only one who knows how to do this lmfao. | shinsou’s a good boy who Tries. )

| dabi; headcanons.

a heated fight with dabi is like tryina cheat death. he’s a stone-cold professional with his mind on the job, but when anger gets involved there’s no more rules. yeah, that’s been a red flag from the get go, but here you both are…

dabi’s cruel when he’s angry. serious about his bonds, but cruel, and it’s never worse than when ppl take to clawing at him in word or deed; fighting with him gets nasty – if it hurts him, you’re fucked.(you piece of shit, like you’ve any more right than whatever rando you’re degrading yourself to be, fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU—)                                   nothing but absolute offensive defence. it’s all predatory while anyone he cares for (or who knows how to get to him) is taking shots at him; fixated on the kill to avoid his own pain. there is no pain, no gentility as a viable option for dealing with this (he doesn’t even know that’s a thing that really works, that he could do), no bond to preserve - nothing but rage to hide within and blind his enemies with.

          since it’s his primary mode for survival, it’s not smth he can consciously acknowledge (yet). he can’t - he needs it too much, too often.

it’s not the kind of mood where he likes his s/o, it’s not the kind of mood where he wants to be nice.

              you’re scared of him? (fire, fists, words, teeth- there’s              so much he can do–) good. you should be. 

       absolutely undoubtedly, dabi makes it so much fucking worse. had they not been fighting, it would’ve been so different – but there’s no mercy in a fight. an angry dabi is rarely safe.he doesn’t hit them, but he makes a play at it more than once until they’re a crying, triggered mess and that’s when he takes his vindication somewhere private / he’s won.            he’ll worry about whether you’re still dating after he’s figured out            whether he still wants that.

oh, the insinuations? bitch, no-one here is unhurt. and if you know dabi, you shouldn’t be stupid enough not to feel the threat. if that would scare you, fuck off you brainless–

     he hasn’t yet figured out whether you’re still worth giving a shit. shit.

| hizashi; headcanons.

the one motherfucker who handles this well from the get go, and that’s in part because with hizashi you just don’t get into… nasty fights. the rest is that hizashi is Absolutely not inclined toward scaring his loved ones and has no need for defensive rage to that extent. 

he’s got standards for himself, y’know? they’re more important than petty shock/hurt - his survival methods are so much more healthy than dabi’s, and that’s thanks to personality and opportunity.

if you’re really fighting, it’ll still be close to reason - hizashi’s emotionally healthy & would be with someone who is, for the most part, also that. as in, if you can’t talk about ur big issues like adults ( + some emotion ofc but honestly expressed, not cruelly ), he’s nooooooot gonna be in a relationship with you.      you- that’s. like. communication, bro. you need it.

first off he’ll a) absolutely notice and jump to the right conclusions thanks to experience b) wave it away bc he’s preoccupied and inclined to go ‘well it could be smth ELSE’ if he’s not completely ready to deal with it.the look on your face makes him ready to deal with it in about 3 seconds, and then he gently puts the fight on hold to ask whether he scared you, assure verbally that he wouldn’t, and give you space while asking what u need to feel safe enough to continue being arnd each other - or to not do that if u can’t feel safe.

hizashi is so good at making himself gentle - bc he is. he doesn’t need the walls & fronts to feel safe himself; vulnerability is his strength. he uses it well.

          there’s blankets involved and his express refusal to come near unless you ask him to, letting you control his proximity to you and what happens next. if you want, there are so many cuddles. if you want, there is reading apart from each other in blanket nests without focussing on anything so you can try to wind down. tea, maybe some anti-anxiety bg music, a super gentle kid’s show on tv. if you want to leave, you leave. if you want him to leave, he leaves. if you want to work through this but need a friend as a buffer, y’all call them over. hizashi will text aizawa for his own emotional support, cuz finding this out is rather upsetting for him too - fuck, he loves you, of course it is.       anything to be receptive, welcoming, and kind to your pain.

       the real anger comes when he finds out just who hurt you, and it’ll       be reserved for those names.

| shinsou; headcanons.

shinsou gets mad. 

it’s instant, thoughtless hurt while they’re already hurting each other and it just makes him defensive / he doesn’t stop to consider a better route. (can’t.) more angry, yells smth pained about them not trusting him (thinks it’s a jab since they know his buttons) – things aren’t registering as they would if he had his wits about him.it’s just hurt. yells, moves toward them too quick & makes it worse (not intentional) but is already backing off again. things sink in now & he’s a mess, so instead of doing anything that he can’t properly think through rn he just leaves. takes himself out of the situation.

he’s not stupid. between his own experiences, hero work, etc – once the fight’s a lil further in the past and his head cooled, he can look at it and see they weren’t trying to hurt him. it wasn’t fake– and that’s so much worse.        do they trust him anymore? no idea, so he waits it out / gives them both more time to settle. he’s not ready to be soft yet, but the idea of going in when he’s still on edge just breaks his heart.shit, he didn’t know this.

maybe he’s reading too much into it. yeah, maybe. he’ll ask. hopes that won’t be too invasive, draws on all his lessons to figure out a game plan; be calm, non-threatening, respectful. (he’s gonna phone aizawa, ask for advice.)he especially needs time to prepare for the possibility they won’t want to share with him. will respect it of course, but he’s so fucking worried it’d drive him a lil mental so he needs to prep to not push whatsoever - and it’s easier to focus on his worry than their fight that’s been abandoned like an open wound. 

           ‘easier’. ugh.

he goes back in when his head’s clear / phoned first to ask. he cuts right to the chase, tells them to set the boundaries if they want to meet up - make it so they can feel safe. it’s not that bad anymore, they say – although it really hurt when shinsou just left, made them fear he didn’t want smth so broken. 

                  that hadn’t fucking occurred to him at all.

and that’s such a relief they fucking both cry, ugly sobs into the phone and tentative ‘why were we fighting anyway’ - an equally careful ‘maybe we can write things out that bother us and just focus on finding a way through’. 

they meet. their s/o is a lil spooked in that trauma way you just can’t help & shinsou’s hyper caution makes it worse until they each find a balance. somewhere innocuous with ice cream and a view on a park, and they just. adjust to this new part of their dynamic, get used to each other again since they didn’t get to properly end the fight or deal with things.        there’s some unrelated talk to ease into things before they open up - just the tip of the iceberg, to test out shinsou’s capacity for it. 

he’s got a hard time looking gentle when he’s torn between hurting for them so much (and that’s… more intense than expected) and angry at himself, the situation, the things that hurt his s/o and the things he doesn’t need to punish himself for but does.

              after a while they call in the help of experienced adults (read: present mic) to deal with this; still more private than a counsellor, but still… they need the help.

they make it through. soft becomes a new/reinforced staple of their relationship and they learn way better ways to communicate thru issues, avoid actual fights.

learning to channel his anger differently also eases shinsou’s overall life / being soff w/ the bae becomes a new (and first) favourite part of his own personality (whoo boy). if he happens upon the bastards who hurt his s/o and curbstomps them somewhere in a back alley, well. that’s more aizawa’s influence.

[crystallized-iron]

Promised Love Chapter Thirty-Four

Masterlist

The barbershop was a quick experience, Steve going for a trim and full shave while Tony decided to get creative with his request, getting his facial hair styled in a way that left Steve staring. Next the dark curls were cut, leaving Tony’s locks short and straight.

Looking up at Steve, though, Tony had to say, “You look so young right now.”

“And you look older than me,” Steve stated.

“I am older than you.”

“So? You don’t have to look it.”

“If you want to look older than me, you should have kept the beard,” Tony pointed out as he turned to his reflection, smiling at his new look.

“It needed to go,” Steve said, putting a hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Ready to head back?”

“Yeah. Just pay the man and we can leave.”

“I already did,” he told him, leading Tony outside. “You were too busy staring at my face.”

“Like you haven’t been looking at me too.”

“Didn’t say I wasn’t.”

They held hands as they walked through town, Tony quietly thinking over everything that had been discussed at the bar, how Pierce was able to get people into anywhere, threaten the safety of families in order to keep the Commandos from reforming until Steve and Bucky decided it was time, and even then it was after the marriage Joseph Rogers and Howard Stark had arranged.

Because Steve needs me, Tony reminded himself. He needs someone that can build.

While it was nice to be useful, he simply wished it wasn’t for violence, especially against children. He couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t a possibility. There was the possibility of finding those so far gone that they would fight back against rescue, and the Commandos would need to defend themselves, even if it meant killing in self defense against a… child.

Bucky had faced down a fiery building and lived, but if one of the kids had fought, had forced him to stay inside as everything burned down…

It didn’t seem like Steve ever considered the possibility of Bucky not coming home, but Tony was terrified by the thought. He didn’t want to bury someone he was still getting to know, still learning to…

He shoved the thought away. He needed to try being optimistic, hope for the best rather than worry over the worst.

They returned home, walking up the steps together. Steve only let go of Tony’s hand when he reached for the doors, pulling them open. They were inside for a few minutes, heading to the staircase when Bucky spotted them. “Steve, Tony.” He went down to greet them, Dummy perched atop his shoulder.

“Buck, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, seeing his husband’s distraught face.

As Dummy scurried down Bucky’s arm to jump to Tony, Bucky answered, “Aldrich gave me U, the bird…”

“What do you mean, gave him to you?” Tony questioned, gently stroking the mechanical mouse with a finger.

Bucky didn’t want to meet his eyes, but he did, telling him, “U’s busted up… It’s really bad, I… I don’t know if you can fix him, or…”

“What?” Tony ran past them, racing up the stairs to their bedroom, halting in his tracks as he saw the tiny bird on their bed. He slowly approached, staring down at his creation, now pieces of bent metal and wiring barely holding together, fragile wings missing tiny parts that left them useless.

He felt… nothing.

There was an emptiness filling him up as all he could do was stare, eventually reaching down to run his fingers over what was once a friend.

“Tony…”

He didn’t know when they had arrived, didn’t know how long he had been standing here.

“This wasn’t an accident…” Tony heard himself say, and he knew it was true. “He wouldn’t end up like this if it was.”

“You said it was Aldrich?” Steve asked Bucky.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, “right before he left. He said he’ll be back tonight.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, he mentioned family, but…”

“I don’t think he has family,” said Steve. “He’s been behaving strangely…”

“Pierce gets people in…” Tony murmured, his eyes still on U.

“Do you think he could be a spy?”

“Why else kill an innocent?”

Steve didn’t respond, turning to Bucky.

“We need to have a word with him…” Bucky said.

“We do.”

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

Aldrich was silent as he watched the scenery go by out the window of his carriage. It wasn’t his plan to go to the outskirts of the next town today, but an order was an order. The man had to be warned that he was next, if only because the young woman had once killed for his father. Ivan had nothing to do with his father’s dealings other than being a blood relation, and apparently that was enough for her.

As the carriage came to a halt outside the worn-down looking cottage, Aldrich climbed out. He had been informed by his employer that Ivan’s father used to work with Howard Stark, but the two went their separate ways once Howard had learned of the man’s connections to Alexander Pierce.

Aldrich went to the door, giving it a loud knock, waiting. He heard nothing for several minutes before the sound of something crashing to the floor caught his attention. It took yet another minute for the door to open, the long-haired man glaring at Aldrich. “What do you want?”

“Ivan Vanko,” Aldrich said with a nod. “I am Aldrich Killian.”

“I do not care…” Ivan told him, beginning to shut the door.

“I am here to warn you that the Commandos will be here in the near future for your life.”

Stopping, Ivan looked to him again. “And for what reason would they want to kill me?”

“They are hunting down Pierce’s associates,” Aldrich explained. “I understand that it was your father that -”

“Is Stark part of that still?”

Aldrich paused, unsure which he meant. “Howard Stark is dead, has been for years.”

“But the child?”

“Anthony Stark is now married to Joseph Rogers’ son Steven.”

“So part of the Commandos,” Ivan decided.

“That’s all you care about, isn’t it?”

“If they come for me, I go for him.”

“They won’t have him on the field,” Aldrich told him. “They don’t even take him to meetings. I doubt he even knows who you are.”

“Does not matter. I wanted to test my new toy… but it is difficult while I am so far from society. Howard made sure of it.”

“New toy?” Aldrich wondered. “What exactly have you been working on?”

“You could be my test subject if you stay,��� Ivan said, stepping away from the door. “I cannot guarantee you will survive.”

“Then I’d rather not…”

“If you do see them, tell them that I will not be so easily stopped.”

“Best case scenario, they never know I’m working against them,” Aldrich stated.

Ivan looked him over. “Spy? Not a very good one.”

“Excuse me?”

“You brought me nothing but words that I already expected to hear for years.”

“I have more than words,” Aldrich promised, returning to the carriage. He could feel Ivan’s stare as he opened the door, pulling out the gift from the collection of inventions that had remained at the mansion when the young Stark left. He brought it over, small in size, able to fit in one hand, and offered it to Ivan.

Ivan looked it over, pulling the trigger, flinching only slightly when a burst of electricity shot out. “Hm… Useless.”

Aldrich stared at him. “Useless?”

“This young Stark thinks he is so clever? Just wait.” He returned the device to Aldrich. “Leave, or I will show you why that tiny thing is so useless.”

Aldrich took it, backing away from Ivan until his back pressed against the side of the carriage. He watched as Ivan grinned and went inside, the door closing behind him. Letting out a breath, Aldrich climbed into the carriage, ready for the long ride home.

So much for his promise to Pepper about actually working tonight.

It was over an hour before he began to see familiar scenery, seeming more eerie in the low light as evening slowly turned to night. It was still a little while later until he finally saw the Rogers home in sight.

The carriage came around, stopping at the steps to the front doors.

Aldrich pocketed the gift before getting out, giving the driver a handsome tip. Then he went up to the doors, trying them and finding them locked, and gave them a knock. He grinned apologetically as Pepper opened them for him. “Sorry, I was gone longer than I planned to be.”

“Yes you were,” she agreed, her annoyed tone getting him to pout. “I had to cancel on someone tonight because of you.”

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“But you did. You’re lucky it was just a friend and not…”

“Not something more?” he tried. “You know, I have been thinking… maybe we can find a time we’re both free and try for a ‘something more’ between us.”

“No, Aldrich.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” Pepper told him. “I am not interested.”

“Well. Alright then…”

She shook her head with a roll of her eyes. “Just get to work. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll make sure no one interrupts you,” he called to her as she left. He was just about to get started on his tasks around the place when someone else stopped him. “What now?” he demanded, turning to Steve himself. “Oh. Good evening, sir.”

“You’re late,” Steve said, “again. Why is that?”

“Family,” Aldrich quickly answered.

“And what is the family emergency?”

“Oh, you know,” he began, hand in his pocket, holding onto the electroshock weapon there, “just… anything and everything.”

“Sure.” Steve eyed him as he then asked, “When did you find the bird?”

“The other night,” Aldrich answered. “Poor little guy.”

“And you found him like that? Broken?”

“I did,” the man said, but his eyes never met Steve’s. “It’s sad, really.”

“It is… and you’re lying to me.”

Aldrich finally looked at him.

“Why are you lying to me?”

As Steve took a step closer, Aldrich pulled the weapon out, jabbing him and pulling the trigger, the burst of electricity shooting through Steve.

Aldrich’s small victory against his former employer was short lived, Bucky yanking him away from Steve, knife out and at the man’s throat within seconds.

Tony slowly approached the scene, keeping his distance in case the man under his husband tried anything else. His eyes snapped to the weapon that fell to the floor as Aldrich tried not to piss Bucky off further. “That was mine…” he whispered to himself.

“How long have you been working for him?” Bucky questioned, pressing the blade against Aldrich’s skin, enough to start drawing blood. “What does he know?”

“Pierce knows your next target…” Aldrich answered.

“How?”

“Someone told him…”

“You mean you didn’t?”

“No…”

“Fuck, that hurt…” Steve muttered, looking at where he had been struck. “What the hell…”

“Electroshock weaponry designed to incapacitate an opponent,” Tony explained. “I used that one at faires for when some folks would get handsy.”

“You…”

Bucky hesitated as he looked to his spouses, giving Aldrich enough of a moment to pull away but Bucky was quick, tackling him back to the ground. “No you don’t!”

Steve got to his feet, going to where Bucky had him. “You’re going to be locked up.”

“Fine, send me to prison,” Aldrich said.

“No. Bucky, you know where.”

Bucky gave him a quick nod as he stood, pulling Aldrich up with him, and then dragging him away down the hall.

Steve glanced at Tony as the smaller man went to the weapon and picked it up. Pierce had access to everything Tony had left behind because of his partnership with Obadiah Stane.

“I need to… need to do something…” Tony tried telling Steve.

“Tony, you’re staying here,” Steve said, not wanting to argue. “You don’t need to do anything.”

“This is something I made, and he was using it!” Tony shouted, glaring up at Steve. “There’s more out there! I can’t just stay inside this place, Steve, I can’t, I have to do something, I have to stop Stane -”

“No.”

“Steve -!”

“I said no!”

Tony stepped back, hold tightening on the weapon.

Steve kept a cautious eye on it as he added, “I’m not letting you risk your life. It’s hard enough when Bucky’s gone, Tony, I don’t want you leaving too.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“With that?”

“One only needs a few seconds to get away.”

Steve sighed. Why was married life so difficult? “Tony, please, don’t do it.”

“I have to.”

“Uh, guys…”

The two stopped to turn to Bruce. “What is it?” Steve quietly asked him.

Bruce shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir, but… she’s gone…”

Tony’s gaze shifted downwards as Steve simply stared at Bruce.

Sarah was gone.

*** ~ *** ~ *** ~ *** ~ ***

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

I am taking tags for the sequel!

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

@seven-oomen * @bornwithgasolineheart * @mariesbookblog * @sebisqueer * @radqueerdude *

~=~=~=~

Do you want to be tagged too?

[sugarplum-blossom]

IU x Ellemen Youth November 2020

Translate: by myself from chinese to english. My own ellemen magazine.. i will add photo later..

Become famous when you are young, take your time.....

In the twelve years of her debut, since the age of 15, IU has been watched enthusiastically by people through her adolescence and slowly matured. She made her debut as a singer, was exposed to performances, and tried to be a producer. She accepted and digested every result. She became more and more brave and gentle after maturity, like gardenias in the wind. In September, we completed IU exclusive interview and the first exclusive cover shooting for her in China. When IU was filmed remotely in South Korea, she was able to quickly get into work, even finishing the work 3 hours earlier than expected. The weather is good, and she has a distant and exciting future.

Qualified Idol (Li Zhien = Lee Jieun)

IU has liked listening to music since kindergarten and often followed her father to sing karaoke. But it wasn't until the first grade of middle school was fined to sing in physical education because of her mischief, that made people around her realize her singing talent, and then she was recommended by the teacher to sing at the sports meeting. After a few years, Li Zhien stood in the mature Korean entertainment At the door of the industrial system, ready to step into it. At that time, she was still a middle school student and participated in 20 selections, including the trainee selection held by JYP Entertainment, but all were rejected. In October 2007, she passed the audition of the current agency LOEN Entertainment. The trainee lasted ten months. Later, when I remembered, Li Zhien felt that that period of time was short, hardworking, and full of "uneasy feeling of nothing."

"I was able to debut earlier because I was too young. Even if I failed a few times, I still have time, so let's try."

"So when she was 15 years old, Li Zhien wore a black costume, stood on a cable music program and sang a song "Mia", and made her official debut. The coveted debut stage did not seem to go as smoothly as she had imagined. She rushed to the TV station excitedly , I saw a lot of fans supporting the boy group, but when she started singing, the people underneath began to scold her,

“After someone scolded me like this, I was scolded in all directions.”

And because she chose a lyrical quiet song, She could hear her voice clearly.

"I feel that the three minutes of singing were really long, and I totally lost the feeling of hope."

IU said in a show, "Probably because of the failure of "Mia", even if the audience hasn't reacted since then, It doesn’t matter. So, if there is a little cheering voice, I will be very excited about it.”

In December 2010, Li Zhien released the album "REAL", and the single "Good Days" from this album finally won her many honors and loves have also reversed people’s previous perceptions of her: She won the Melon Music Awards in 2011 for the best song of the year; won the Mnet Asian Music Festival Best Solo Singing Award in 2011; more and more people recognize her , I heard her singing... During the performance this winter, a fan came to give Li Zhien a support. When Zhien sang, she shouted the slogan of support. Li Zhien once again heard the voice from the audience on the stage, and it was completely different from the day of her debut. She sang "How blue the sky is, and the wind is so perfect today" almost to tears. She was not originally an ambitious singer.

"Although it is good to get the first place (in the competition), it doesn’t matter; it’s great to be the best female singer in our country, but it’s not okay."

After that, she became the first goal after being a singer: at least to become a singer who can take care of my fans.

She worked hard to play a qualified idol and gave herself the stage name IU- I for Li Zhien, and U was for the audience who listened to her songs. Participate in more activities, sing more songs, and start acting. Li Zhien often sleeps only four hours because of too many announcements, and because of this job, she has irregular sleep and insomnia. Even ten years later, she felt that she was too pleased at that time. It seemed that no matter good or bad, she would take it as long as it was an event that could show up, "survive anyway." Popularity also accumulates under such circumstances. The three high notes shown in "Good Days" are praised, the young face is cherished, and the title of "National Sister" is closely related to her.

Young Mental Crisis Until the age of 22

Li Zhien encountered a mental crisis. She is filming the TV series "My Uncle" with director Jin Yuanxi, in which she plays the role of Li Zhian. Zhi'an is a small clerk who is heavily indebted and burdened with crimes and lives with her elderly grandmother. Like the lonely and bleak character, Li Zhien herself is in a downturn. One day, Li Zhien found the director and said,

"I'm very sorry, because the TV has not been broadcast yet, I will stop shooting here (probably the best choice). I will compensate for the content I shot before, no matter what method I use."

She fell into a trap. In the doubt about herself, nothingness and fear searched her. At the same time, her physical condition deteriorated and she even needed hospitalization. This was the first time she had to suspend her trip

In the talk show "The Joy of Dialogue", her mood at the time: "In the eyes of the public, it was a very successful year for me. When "Meaning of You" was popular, the cover album of "Flower Bookmark" was released. , I have achieved good results since "Good Day".

But at that time, from the perspective of my spirit, it was the worst year. The reason is still not clear. From the debut stage, I was on the stage I’ve never been nervous before, but at that time I started to be afraid of the stage. When I was recording a show, I was also scared when I watched the camera. As long as I was watched, my face would turn red and sweat, and I couldn’t sing on the stage... All the things I experienced suddenly disappeared. Can I really do this? How did I do it before? These thoughts surfaced, I was too nervous, and even tried to take a neuroleptic after going on stage When performing. Because I started (being an artist) when I was very young, people always said *younger, good job', but the age will grow slowly, so in the future, if you think of'younger' If this part is removed, can I still get the "good job" evaluation? It's really deep.

Thought about this problem carefully. But the smoother the business, the more I feel uneasy. I feel that bubbles have been created. If all these bubbles burst at a certain moment, when I condensed all these things, I am afraid that I only have this little bit. , In that year, I was really afraid of being like that. For me, I felt "too beautiful to be packaged?" In this case, "How many crimes I will redeem in the future."

Li Zhien of that year performed very well. She covered classic songs such as "Meaning of you", which was included in the album "Flower Bookmarks". Among them, "My Old story" Reached "Perfect All-kill" within days (six real-time charts, six daily charts, ichart real-time charts, and ichart weekly charts). The single "Zhaoge Cave" was released with good results, GENIE The real-time list broke seven times in a row, and the Melon real-time list broke four times in a row. However, popularity and praise turned into pressure, making her almost impossible to move. In 2014, Li Zhien even withdrew from some programs that were originally a regular host, such as "SBS Popular Songs".

Reveal the nature me

In order to overcome these emotions, she made up her mind to make songs by herself.

"Rather than live decently and uneasy, it is better to be pitiful but peaceful."

At the age of 22, she released her first album "Chat- Shire", which she had produced herself. She became Alice, in seven songs composed of seven songs. Shuttle through a story. It’s also because she was misunderstood by others on this album, and she confronted these malice in a restrained and empathetic way:

I don’t want to make the conclusion that “this is right, this is a misunderstanding” on the interpretation of the song, I feel that my freedom is very important. If you want to protect it, you should also protect the freedom of interpretation by others. I still like this song just like before the album came out.

At the age of 24, "Palette" was born. Now, looking back after three years, IU still thinks "Palette" is precious.

"Maybe if I choose a very thankful album in a long time, I will also choose "Palette". This album makes me more like myself and makes me understand myself better. It is a way of realizing the most natural self. The album revealed without any extra decorations and hidden purchases.”

The process of creation and production is not easy, but because I can express what I want to express, I still feel happy without regretting singing,

"It’s like sitting on an amusement ride. same". singer Lee Hyori said, if you want to know IU's true age, just listen to her songs. Li Zhien has the habit of keeping a diary, sometimes in the diary.Some part of it will become lyrics. She values ​​the expression of the lyrics. If it conflicts with the melody, then change the melody. Each capital in "Palette" is like a piece of Li Zhien's body, reflecting a certain part of her.

In the title song "Palette" Li Zhien sang: Now I seem to understand myself a little bit. Compared with long hair, I like neatly cut short hair, but when I say "Good Days", it is really beautiful. Because she often suffers from insomnia, she thinks that the best care for a person is to let the other person have a good sleep time, so there is "Night Letter": I have been in the sea, written on the beach, you It seemed to disappear completely into the distance, making me miss it more and more. Although I can't tell you all the words in my diary, the phrase "I love you". I will show the fireflies of that day to your window this night, hoping it will be a good dream. And "people" has also become the theme of this album, not only the narration of personal stories, but also "surrounding the people around us, as an ordinary person can say". "We will all have a lot of labels. We are women and entertainers, not focusing on a certain aspect, but as a person, not based on my profession or my gender, but just want to tell what I think and experience as a person. ."

IU once said in an interview. In that interview, the host met Li Zhien for the second time. After six years, he said: (the first interview) I didn’t directly tell IU how I felt, but I didn’t think I knew IU at the time. Is it because I didn't sleep well, I felt a sense of liveliness that I wanted to conceal my exhaustion. So what should I say at the time, I felt a little distressed after it was over. But compared to that time, it has really changed a lot now.

The career of an entertainer means the glamour in front of people, and it also means the other side of cruelty. A few years ago, the news of the death of young Korean artists always made people sigh. In 2018, the "32nd Golden Record Awards" was held in Ilsan, Gyeonggi Province. Li Ji-eun won the award in the music department.

She said thanks, luck, and sadness. "In fact, it is still very sad now. Why is it so painful? I seem to understand some. It is not a strange emotion to me. In addition to me, there are many people who are sad for this. But we all have to run for tomorrow and live a month from now. Distressed, we must prepare a plan for a whole year in advance.

Standing on the podium, facing so many artists and fans, Li Zhien continued:

"Laugh when you are happy, cry when you are sad, these are all natural things, so I hope everyone can accept them naturally. Although professionalism is very important, as a person, we must first face ourselves, face our own hearts, and hope that there will be no more painful things because we endure it alone. It would really be nice not to happen again.

"These words are like those of her songs. They convey a clear voice of self in a gentle tone, as well as gentleness and strength. Li Zhien is still moving forward. 2017 is better than the year when "Good Days" was released. In a year that made her even more happy, her self-produced album was loved by everyone. She participated in the variety show "Hyo Lee's Homestay". During the two weeks in Jeju Island, she often wore loose sweaters, stared in a daze, or read a book with chocolate .It was quiet in front of strangers, and always took time when doing things. Lee Hyori joked that she looked gloomy. In fact, those few days were rare times for her to sleep well, relaxed and happy.

In the music part, each song is filled with her unique emotions. Rather than using music as a product, she hopes to return to the music itself.

“Although I’m not sure whether all the works have a high degree of completion, there is one thing. I can confidently say that no piece of music is compromised because of trends. In any case, fans know me better than others, so I feel that kind of sincere words in music, regardless of style (subject), everyone will Accept that this is'IU brand' music.

When she couldn't go out because of the epidemic this year, she wrote songs, deleted songs, watched scripts, and watched TV every day. If you ask Li Zhien what her ideal life is like, she will respond like this:

"Because I am in a profession where people's reactions or comments to my actions are taken for granted, I often look at other people's colors when I was young. But from the age of 25 Realizing that “I’m me” is more important than “I am in the eyes of the public”. Many fans feel that being “I’m me” is more comfortable and more attractive than they think. This makes me very moved and surprised. I think The ideal life is to have a loyal life every day. The homework of this life is "I", I just want to be loyal to this."

#iu #ellemen #iuellemen #iumagazine #iuellemenyouth #iuinterview #ellemensubsenglish

[nspx]

a non-cohesive rambling post about tlj

buckle in boys because what the fuck

also. spoilers. so many spoilers

right so i’ve been reading some posts and mainly it’s all ‘rian johnson u asshole’ and ‘star wars is ruined forever’ BUT i dont think it is?? not completely anyway?

i thought the movie was. good? i mean. coming out of the theater i thought to myself i like this, it’s fine. and it is fine, but not. not it, you know? it had its ups and downs and honestly im surprised it’s getting so much hate, because i actually kind of. liked it? but there was some bullshit, yall 

l u k e s k y w a l k e r

my sweet son what did the bad man do to you?? i mean. i. i??? 

LUKE “THERE IS STILL GOOD IN YOU, I CAN SENSE IT” SKYWALKER TRIED TO KILL HIS OWN NEPHEW???? BECAUSE HE WAS AFRAID OF HIS POWER??? THE LUKE THAT T H R E W AWAY HIS LIGHTSABER IN FRONT OF THE EMPEROR BECAUSE HE //BELIEVED// IN HIS FATHER??? TRIED TO KILL A TEENAGE BOY - HIS FLESH AND BLOOD!!!!! - IN HIS SLEEP??

right, so. i believe that luke is a nuanced character with flaws. and i believe that there have been times when he struggled with his own grasp of light and dark, this being one of these times. but?? trying to murder his nephew??? 

during the movie i thought that maybe luke looking into ben’s darkness made him fall into his own a little bit? because i just don’t see luke that way. luke always believed in the good in people. he saw the good in vader - v a d e r - who was so far gone he didn’t even believe it himself anymore. and you’re telling me he truly didn’t believe kylo could be saved? or even helped? that he deserved to die, even if he believed this just for a moment?

other than that. i found luke had his good moments in the film as well. using the force to trick kylo, so that the rebellion had time to escape. or the beautiful moment where luke was looking at the sunset, the end of his journey in parallel to the sunset in anh, the beginning of his journey. pure poetry. a+

sitting with yoda and watching the tree burn? turning into a force ghost? threatening to haunt kylo forever?

leia and luke sitting down together? luke kissing leia on the forehead? good shit

but. the scene with luke squeezing milk out of that creatures tits and drinking it savagely. i... that could’ve been avoided. i mean. it did make rey see that she didn’t necessarily find what she had been looking for, but? honestly this movie disrespected my son, luke skywalker, so bad but also. the scene where he wiped nonexistent dust off his shoulder? such a badass move

(”see you around, kid” my soul descended from this astral plane to another, i love u luke)

snoke 

what the fuck

what the fuck what kind of bullshit. hes so weak. hes such a bullshit character, honestly. general grievous would’ve eaten him for breakfast and grievous is a pussy bitch. he wouldn’t have survived a day in the clone wars. palpatine would’ve projected his ass into the cold reaches of the galaxy with a mere look. fuck this snoke guy how am i supposed to take him seriously

that dumb speech?? fuck that guy. seeing him die was cathartic but at the same time anticlimactic cuz like?? too easy. -12/10 villian

onto the next point

K Y L O R E N 

or should i say, ben solo? who even are you kylo? make up your damn mind

like. you want to be good but you also kinda wanna be the leader of a new fascist government. you kinda love rey but also?? ‘you’re nothing’ MMMMM i think the fuck not boy “but not to me” nice save loser

honestly..... i have such a love hate relationship with kylo. because the way this movie was set up and what r*an did to luke.... u kinda see that he made it so that everyone just knows that.... LUKE FAILED KYLO OK. he truly did. luke was afraid of ben and he could never truly offer him the support that he needed because /fear/ *cue to yoda cackling like a maniac (what the fuck was that all about, also)* drove him to madness, i guess?

but then again kylo also burned everything down right after he collapsed a whole building on his uncle and went on a 10 year long murderous rampage, so? how am i supposed to defend u kylo get it together already

BUT THENNNN, like. this snoke character manipulated him all along? that doesn’t excuse kylo’s actions but ya know. hm. idk. all snoke did was abuse kylo and then he was like “ah my shining beautiful strong apprentice i have always believed in you”. what the fuck. at least be a little intimidating. 

honestly kylo should’ve just clocked him in the face with his dumb fucking mask instead of ruining the elevator, what a missed opportunity and waste of resources

kylo ren/rey

honestly. i mean. im not here for or against this ship. because i see both sides of it (like, kylo is a murderous asshole that abused rey and murdered millions, but also - redemption arc? i love a redemption arc bitcc fuck me up)

personally i’m less interested in their ~love bond than i am in their force bond because it’s so fucking epic, my dudes. e p i c 

we always had anakin or luke as these two all-powerful people that carried the entire balance of the force by themselves but now we have two people, so completely different and y e t they r two halves of one whole and i love that so much

they’re both incredibly strong. i like that there is both light and dark in both of them. they complete each other. i don’t see their ~relationship happening tbh like we won’t get an anidala level of romance, i just think this force bound destiny thing is an interesting idea

their long distance skype call force connection? loves it, the force is magical

(”you’re not alone” “neither are you” i cannot believe. i cannot believe. “can you cover yourself up” *crickets* i’m dead)

rey’s parentage

mmmm. i keep seeing people complain she isn’t a skywalker. i was 100% sure she was but now i’m kinda glad she isn’t? the force sure loves her tragic desert children

she came from nothing but now she’s the very last jedi, the last hope for the galaxy, and i LOVE THAT. 

the rebellion

ok. ok. i am devastated

the rebellion truly did lose so much in this movie. sooo much. i’m crying. what for? was that necessary? 

and poe? my son. i love him. general hugs? i cried laughing. my son

but whaaat the fuck was the deal with admiral purple hair? ever heard of communicating like a normal person? like, telling poe what she was planning would’ve saved them sooo much bullshit? but telling poe would’ve cut the movie in half sooo

so many lives were lost because?? felt like really no reason at all, just miscommunication and people - the good guys - fighting each other?? it was sooo unsettling

like. so much of this movie i felt like the characters started out doing one thing and in the middle of the writing process the writers were like mmm no wait let’s go in a completely different direction which has 0 to do with anything at all yes brilliant

but then poe’s speech at the end? the last of the rebellion all together in the falcon? there is hope there is always h o p e 

honorary mention

general hugs 

i hate him but also kinda. respect him? he’s an asshole but he was ready to shoot kylo ren, he was ready to go

other things i found (REALLY!!) bothersome

the lack of finnrey

the lack of finnpoe

just the mains interacting?? 

things i really liked

rose!! and her sister!! their backstory was so touching! also, rose is force sensitive and so is finn. don’t fight me on this. did you see the bond between rose and animals? a ~force bond. d o n t fight me.

l e i a - i cried, ugh. this really was her movie

the humor!! this really was a funny movie

the cinematography - some of the shots really were breath taking

i saw a lot of little tidbits alluding to the other sw movies and also other sci fi movies, i liked that

THE KIDS IN THE CITY!!! 

THE LITTLE BOY AT THE END!!! HE’S FORCE SENSITIVE!! THE JEDI WILL COME BACK THEY WILL COME BACK THEY ALWAYS COME BACK!! loves it

the Force (leia surviving space? luke projecting himself all the way to a random ass planet? LUKE OPENING HIMSELF UP TO THE FORCE AGAIN? HOW REY IS SO POWERFUL SHE CRACKED OPEN THE ISLAND?? i love. the force loves all of her children and will go to ridiculous lengths to make sure they stay alive)

anway i’ll be screaming about this movie for a month despite all of its flaws have a good night

[skylarhollandsblog-blog]

Gordon's Chid ➡ Bruce Wayne

Imagine being Jim Gordon's daughter and finding out you're pregnant with Bruce Wayne's child.

Skylar P.O.V

Cuddling with Bruce was one of my favourite things in the world. Sitting in the front of the fireplace in the Wayne Manor with Bruce's arms wrapped around me as I sipped on my hot chocolate. I hummed in pleasure.

Bruce looked at me and chuckled. "Are happy because of the chocolate or the baby?"

"Both." We both chuckled. "I also found something today."

"What?" Bruce asked.

"I think it's a girl." I blurted out and watched him freeze in surprise before happiness covered his eyes. He kissed me and hugged me.

"Our baby girl." He whispered and I smiled. I put my mug down on the table and snuggled into him. His strong arms wrapped around me and I hummed.

Footsteps were heard and both Bruce and I stood calm, thinking it was Alfred. The footsteps stopped but nothing was said until a click was heard. Bruce and I both stood up and as we turned around a shot was heard and I doubled over, holding my stomach.

In front of us stood Jerome, a gun pointed at me, his ugly face smiling like a maniac.

Black little dots danced in my vision as I started to sway, the last thing I heard was Bruce screaming my name.

-⚜⚜⚜⚜-

3rd P.O.V

After the fight with Jerome, Bruce Wayne stood in hospital, hand-holding tightly on Skylar Gordon's. He looked at her with sorrow in his eyes as she slept. The doctors were able to stabilise her and now they were going to see if the baby was okay.

Rushed steps were heard in the hallways and Bruce knew who they belong to. Jim Gordon aka his girlfriend's father. The door opened and Jim immediately fell to his knees as his eyes were attached to his daughter.

He walked slowly on the other side of the bed, his eyes watching her chest go up and down. His warm hand clashes her cold one as he held it. His eyes looked at Bruce. "What happened?" Jim's voice was cracked.

"Jerome." Bruce spat. "He came into my home and shot her. In front of me." Bruce's hand was hanging low. "I messed up, Jim. I almost lost the women I loved. She got shot and I stood there watching Jerome laugh like the maniac he is. I'm sorry Jim. I failed her. I failed Skylar, Alfred, Selina and Gotham. I failed you. And I swore I'll protect her. And here we are."

Jim gave him an understanding look. "I know how it feels Bruce. It's not your fault. Skylar loves you and love her. She is gonna survive this. She's a survivor, Bruce."

The door opened and this time a nurse walked in, her hand holding a clipboard that had the faith of Skylar Gordon. The nurse smiled brightly and both man's figured knowing it was good news. "Gentlemen. She's alright. The bullet missed her insides. She was lucky." She flipped a paper. "Now for the babies-" Bruce froze, eyes widened when he looked at Jim. His face was shocked. His daughter was pregnant. At seventeen. Then Bruce's eyes widened. Babies?  "The babies are safe and healthy. The bullet missed them. She should wake up in two hours or so." She looked at Bruce and smiled widely. "Congratulations. On the twins, I mean. One is a girl and the other one is a boy."

Bruce smiled. He was gonna have a boy and a girl. His princess and prince. The nurse shot them another smile and left.

Jim finally kicked out of his state of shock. "Babies? You got mt daughter pregnant?"

Bruce sighed. He knew this day would come. And he dreaded it. "We didn't want to get pregnant. It happened four months ago. We came from a party and decided to celebrate. Too much wine and suddenly I worked up with Skylar in my arms. Both of us naked."

Jim rubbed his forehead. "Look. I'm mad about getting her pregnant at seventeen but promise me something. You will take care of both of the babies and her."

"I love her too much to let her go. And those babies." Bruce said. "Come on. We have to find Jerome. No one tries to kill my kids and girlfriend and gets away with it."

-⚜⚜⚜⚜-

Skylar P.O.V

I could hear the beeping, the voices, everything. My eyes blinked opens but I immediately closed them as the bright white light stunned in my eyes. Two hands were clasped on mine. One was bigger and rough, it had corns on it.

The other one was a little bit bigger than mine, a bit softer. It made me smile knowing exactly who it belonged too.

After a while, my eyes managed to the light and I saw the white walls. After the smell of medicine, I knew I was in the hospital. I stood up and noticed the two men sleeping with their head on my bed. The dale brown hair I grew to love was right by my left side.

The other one was a more brown-grey one and I knew it was my dad's. I slipped my hand away from Bruce and he immediately woke up. He ju.oed up, looking frankly for danger until he saw me looking at him with a smile.

"You're okay." He breathes in relief. I nodded and he immediately attached his lips on mine.  I kiss back and internally sighed in relief. I detached myself and was about to ask but he cut me off. "The babies are fine."

I sighed in relief before narrowing my brows. "Babies?"

He smiled at me, his happiness shining. "Twins. Boy and girl."

I smiled and we hugged, his hand holding onto my shoulders and an I held onto him tightly.

"And now we're gonna talk about this." My dad's voice rang out as I groaned.

-⚜⚜⚜⚜-

Five months later

I yelled as the nurse held my hands tightly. My eyes were shut tightly as I continued to push. I was in pain. The worse pain possible. Labor.

"Push! Ms.Gordon push!" The woman yelled and I continued so. Suddenly the nurse's hand let go of mine and another one was replaced. I looked and my eyes made contact with Selina's. She smiled brightly and I smiled a little one instead.

"Push, Skylar. Push!" She said and I did. I pushed u til I couldn't. Then a cry ranged out. A little cry that I knew it will change my life forever. I saw a nurse raking a little baby, covered in blood. My eyes widened. Oh, she or he was beautiful.

Then another contraction kicked in and I groaned. "Baby 1 is out. Time for baby 2." Selina said and I groaned.

"You need to do it again. Ms. Gordon. Push!" The doctor said and I repeated. I bet my screams were heard thought the whole hospital. I knew that outside the door, Bruce, my dad and Alfred were waiting for anxious. Bruce was probably pacing.

After some minutes I finally slumped into the bed, the second cry filling up the air. I was exhausted. I was sweaty, tired and hungry. I need a burger so bad.

My eyes looked towards my babies and I smiled as the nurse borough them to me. My baby girl was wrapped into her blanket, her head covered by a pink beanie. My boy the same but his beanie was blue.

The door opened and in walked Bruce, my dad and Alfred. Bruce immediate was next to me, looking at our children in awe. He kissed my head and we both smiled as we watched our miracles.

"You did amazing." He whispered. "We never thought about names."

I smiled brightly. "Oh, I have them." Everyone looked at me. "For our little girl, I was thinking Elizabeth Selina Wayne. After my mom and my best friend." Selina squealed.

"Thank you." She whispered and I nodded. "Of course I'm gonna name my daughter after you silly. Selina, you're my sister."

She smiled at me. "And for the boy?"

"Thomas James Wayne," I said. Bruce's eyes filled up with tears at the mention of his father's name. "After your father an mine."

"Perfect," Bruce said and grabbed Elizabeth from me. "Elizabeth Selina Wayne and Thomas James Wayne."

We both smiled. This was our happy ending. With our children.

[keywestlou]

HEE HAW AND HARRY TRUMAN

The simplicity of it all.

I am not computer literate. Nor mechanically inclined. A generational thing.

I had computer problems yesterday. My mouse was not working properly. Off and on. Mostly off.

I operate with a big screen attached to my lap top. Easier to see in my old age.

Telephoned computer guru Tim Reynolds this morning. He now lives in the Tampa area. Change the battery, he said. I did. It works. I did not know the mouse operated on a battery.

Oh, well.

Now to today.

Another Harry Truman story. One not well known. Like the shot of Old Grand I wrote about recently. This one involves Truman and a donkey. It also involves things that could happen to a President in Truman’s days, but would not today.

For credibility purposes, be advised that this story is one told by Truman’s grandson Clifton Truman Daniel.

Truman was on one of his Key  West trips. He liked to swim. Tried to every day. Generally in the late afternoon. Prior to his nap.

In those days, there was no natural beach near the Little White House. To accommodate the President, Navy engineers had sand trucked in. A small beach was made. A little cabana constructed, also. A place where Truman could change into his trunks.

One morning, Truman walked out with his trunks and towel over his arm. Threw open the door to the cabana and got the shock of his life. Standing in the Presidential changing room was a donkey. Adding insult to injury, the donkey was braying at Truman. A further insult. The donkey had answered the call of nature so the atmosphere in the cabana was less than pleasing.

Truman stood stunned for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. Recall he had grown up a farmer so he did not feel threatened.

The base commander was not amused. He initiated a search for those responsible. Turned out to be a couple of reporters who had gotten a little tipsy in town the night before. Came upon the donkey. Bought it. Smuggled it onto the base in the back of a taxi.

Never could happen today. Presidential security back then not as it is today. Secret Service and Navy personnel would have ascertained what the reporters were up to at the gate Most certainly before arriving at the cabana.

Truman was the President. Certain safety measures were taken. The donkey was x-rayed, given the once over by bomb sniffing dogs, and then sent to an underground holding facility in the Rockies. No one remains today who knows what happened to the donkey afterwards.

Truman’s reaction to the prank says a lot about him and Key West. They were ideally suited to each other. Unpretentious and possessed with a sense of humor.

Key West ws the one and only place grandson Clifton reported where “Grandpa could be himself, let his hair down, wear a loud Hawaiian shirt or even grow a beard (which he started but but never finished).” He had “found the perfect haven from the pressures and posturing of a hectic world.”

Tuesday Talk with Key West Lou last night. Precisely in the middle of the Democratic debate. I caught the beginning and the end. My favorite tale concerned Ernest Hemingway and Mt. Kilimanjaro.

Hemingway wrote a short story The Snows of Kilimanjaro which won him a Pulitzer Prize. Though familiar with Africa from prior visits, he had neither seen nor climbed Kilimanjaro.

His second African trip interesting though almost a disaster. It was 1952. Travel sometimes by local plane. A 4 seater or the like.

Hemingway and his wife were on such a flight. The plane crashed. Hemingway suffered some burns and cracked ribs. Never one to sit, he opted to take another plane the next day. This one exploded on take off. Hemingway hurt big time.

His wife was able to get out of the burning plane through a window. Hemingway was not. He butted his head against the door and it opened and he was out. His injuries significant, however. A fractured skull, severe burns, a dislocated shoulder, 2 cracked discs, a ruptured liver, and ruptures to both kidneys.

A tough guy. Lived to hunt, fish, and write another day.

Watched what I could of the debate last night. Better than the first. Excellent questions. Little if any gotcha moments attempted. They all looked good in varying degrees. I suspect only Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren will survive last night’s group.

Tonight the balance of the debate. Interested in how Joe Biden will come over.

On this day in 1975, Jimmy Hoffa disappeared. Never seen again. Many suspect he is buried beneath the concrete of a New Jersey highway.

Several months later, Key West Fire Chief Bum Farto disappeared. He had been convicted of narcotic dealing and was awaiting sentencing.

Farto’s disappearance a Key West “happening” to this date. A money maker for some. Tee shirts for sale bearing…..Where are you Bum Farto?

Trump will go down as the worst President in history. Unquestionably.

He does little if anything correctly.

He has us in a tariff war with China. One that never should have been. I recall his words during the campaign: “I know tariff wars!…..Tariff Wars are good!…..I win tariff wars!”

He has done a masterful job with China. As with Iran, he is in one that he does not know how to get out. The Chinese outfox him at every turn. They refuse to submit to his bullying.

U.S. representatives have been meeting in Shanghai for 2 days. Talks over. No resolution. Further talks scheduled for September.

Before the meeting had concluded, Trump announced the talks were going well, there would be an agreement. The agreement could only come if it was one Trump wanted and he was confident it would be his way.

The talks failed. Trump now says such the worst outcome for China. China should stop stalling. Claims China started the trade war.

The President is an ass. He knows not what he does. China is an equal to the U.S. in every regard. Militarily, financially, etc. China is also the U.S.’s bank. We owe China $1.3 trillion. Borrow from China on a frequent basis. Never pay back.

What happens if China really gets pissed and cuts off the loans? Even worse, suppose China starts dumping its U.S. Treasuries on the market?

An economic crisis without proportion. U. S. would go bust. Then most of the world.

A bad situation. China will not give in. Not the Asian way.

No one wins a trade war. China will go to a starvation diet and drinking water out of the streets before it succumbs. China will break the U.S.’s back as its is being broken.

Enjoy your day!

HEE HAW AND HARRY TRUMAN was originally published on Key West Lou

[beyondforks]

Book Reviews! Absolute Surrender and Echo, Mine by Georgia Lyn Hunter

Absolute Surrender (Fallen Guardians #1) by Georgia Lyn Hunter Genre: Adult Fiction (Paranormal Romance) First Published: March 19, 2013 Publisher: GL Hunter

Born in the flames of Heaven’s wrath, he’s all things sinful and too dangerous to love. 

An immortal Guardian of the mortal realm, Aethan has walked alone for millennia, trapped in a hell of his own. Until a feisty mortal crosses his path. A female he shouldn’t even look at, one who shakes the precarious foundations of all that he is, and one who’s determined to walk the edge of danger.

All her life, Echo Carter wanted “normal”, an impossible feat given that she can see demons. Drawn back to the alleys of New York, she’s determined to hunt down the one responsible for the death of her friend. And no man, no matter how sexy, will stop her. Until she discovers a horrifying truth about herself, forcing her to turn to the one man she should avoid. Aethan. 

But when two stubborn wills collide, a dangerous passion ignites…

As evil closes in, Aethan has to overcome his darkest fears and claim Echo as his. If he doesn't, he just could lose her to a far more sinister fate…

Absolute Surrender is the first book in the Fallen Guardians series by Georgia Lyn Hunter. There were many point of views given through this story. We definitely needed some. Others? Not so much, and I got characters confused with one another, especially in the beginning. Some had similar names, some had more than one name, some changed into the appearance of others, and there were so many of them thrown at you at once. So, it took me several chapters to get everyone straight. The story itself was pretty darn good though. Situations and places were described vividly, making it so easy to visualize, and it did this without being wordy, which I loved.

 I'm not too sold on Echo. She can kick some major butt, but at the same time, she has absolutely no sense of self preservation and kept putting herself in danger whenever she had a hissy fit, which was often. 

Aethan was a fantastic character. He had strength and brains. I loved how he cared for Echo no matter what.  I'm still not sure what he is supposed to be. Angel? Demon? Something entirely different? Alien? I'm interested in knowing more about some of his friends too. 

This was one of those books that is drenched in tension and anticipation. There was so much heat between Echo and  Aethan ... my goodness! Be ready to take many cold showers or keep your significant other close by. You'll need them, and they'll thank you for it.

Echo Carter wrapped her arms around her waist and paced along the top step in front of the well-lit cathedral, trying to keep warm while she waited for Kira. The chilly sea breeze stung her nostrils as she debated going back to her car and cranking up the heater to full blast. But being trapped in the vehicle for a half hour? Ugh. She far preferred the cold. It helped ease the dull ache in her temples. Her head still felt heavy and fuzzy from her restless night. Dreams she didn’t want to remember throbbed in her mind, so she concentrated on a tugboat gliding over the ominous waters of the East River. A streak of lightning raced across the dark skies, briefly enveloping everything in a portentous silver light. The night wind stole under her denim jacket and beneath her sweater like an icy caress. She buttoned up the front and slid her hands into her pockets. Her fingers wrapped around the two stones she carried around like talismans, their warmth seeping into her. But it wasn’t enough. She seriously needed a distraction to clear her head and rid her body of the chill. Her cell beeped. Eagerly, she retrieved the phone from her pocket and sat on her backpack, avoiding the cold cement step, only to find it was a text from Damon. Away on business. Get Kira to stay with you. You know why. Call if you need me. P.S. Don’t do anything stupid. She rolled her eyes. Everyone had bad dreams. It didn’t mean she needed a babysitter. Damon’s postscripts, however, never changed, even if his messages did. The way her guardian hovered, you’d think she was thirteen instead of twenty-three and living on her own. But she couldn’t blame him. All that mattered to her was finding Tamsyn’s killer and ending the son of a bitch. That had to be the stupid thing Damon worried about. A man, rushing past her, snagged her attention. Echo watched him skid to a halt. Above average height, this one embodied the perfect male, with bronzed skin, dark, wavy hair, and a sculptured jaw. Black shades covered his eyes. He made a U-turn, giving her a closed mouthed smile. Well now, she had asked for a distraction. Sliding the phone back into her pocket, she rose to her feet. She’d deal with this before Kira got back, and she knew the perfect spot for this little rendezvous. With a casual, seductive sway of her hips, she tossed him a sultry look over her shoulder and glided toward the back of the cathedral. He followed. Of course he’d follow. They always did. She popped her jacket buttons free as she rounded the rear of the building and headed for the alcove where the statue of an angel with massive wings stood. When he grabbed her from behind and slammed her against the cathedral wall, she sucked in a breath, pain jarring up her arm to her shoulder. She twisted around. The acrid stink of sulfur flooded her nostrils. Bile rushed to her throat, telling her exactly what this thing was. “Ah, little mortal. So good of you to choose this place—” He stopped, confusion flickering across his face, frowned, and leaned in to sniff her. Oh yeah, her cursed pheromones always worked in her favor. They threw them off track and gave her the crucial edge she needed. But the black sludge that coated her hands as she held him off warned her this one had been wounded. “You smell different. Must taste.” His tone slurred. Something wet and rough slithered along her neck. Crap! The slimy saliva on her skin sent a shudder of revulsion through her. But she didn’t let that distract her. Once his foul-breathed mouth claimed hers, life as she knew it would be over. Nope, not happening. She had no plans to die at the hands of this fiend. “Pity I have to cut our fun short.” His face cracked into a menacing smile to reveal pointy canines. “Your light’s mine.” That’s what he thought. “If you want it, come and claim it.” The familiar words rolled out of her mouth. Darn, she had to stop watching The Lord of the Rings. But Aragon was so— Argh, kill first, then think about the sexy Aragon—she kneed the demonii hard in the crotch, breaking his hold. Spinning around, she kicked out her leg in a fast sweep, knocking his feet out from under him. He stumbled to the ground. About to go in for what would have been a routine kill, the demonii sprang up. He flung his shades aside. Eerily red eyes flamed with fury. “I’ll drain every drop of your blood before I rip out your soul!” “Promises—promises,” she taunted. He came at her. Echo palmed her dagger and met him head-on. She went in low and rammed the blade into his sternum. The demonii fell to his knees, eyes widening in surprise. “Didn’t see that one coming, did ya?” Vengeance burned in her as she grabbed him by the hair and slashed his exposed throat, severing the carotid artery. Blood, black and thick, gushed out. Her breathing harsh, she let the body fall to the ground. Disappointment burned through her. This fiend hadn’t killed Tamsyn. The stink of the sulfur now coating her skin lacked the coppery, sweet odor of vanilla she was after. No matter. It meant one less evil fiend roaming the streets and robbing the innocents of their souls. The body decomposed and vanished within seconds. No sign remained that the demonii had ever existed. The oily ooze on her dagger had disappeared, too, when a frisson shot through her. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose in warning. Oh, hell. More of them. Survival mode on high alert, Echo whipped around in a defensive strike and met steel with steel. The metallic sound reverberated through the cathedral’s garden. The sheer power of the blow vibrated up her hand to her injured shoulder. Pain streaked through her but didn’t slow her down. She attacked. He countered. This one was too strong, too canny. She lunged at him, but he grabbed her in a move that made her head spin and imprisoned her in an ironclad grip against a wall of muscle. It took her a second to realize the stranger had no intention of disarming or hurting her. He merely shielded himself from her attack. Irritated, she glared up. The impact of the man facing her over their crossed daggers hit her like a blow to the stomach. She stumbled back, dragging in lungfuls of air. Wild as rainstorms and earthy as sin, his scent crowded her. She blinked, sure the vision before her was a fantasy induced by her sleep-starved brain. He was so tall, he had to be at least six-seven. His long, leather duster parted to reveal muscular, leather-covered legs. All that black he wore was the perfect backdrop for a wickedly handsome face. The hard, sensual curve of his lips and that focused way he studied her told her he would know every carnal pleasure there was. A tiny shiver of awareness darted up her spine, but she brutally clamped it down. The chilly breeze tossed back strands of his long hair to reveal the glitter of small silver hoops in his ears. But his hair—she’d never seen anything like it. It was as if nature had stroked it with every shade of the blue spectrum then laid a careless dash of ebony between those strands. The air around him shifted. Power rolled off him in aggressive waves. But his eyes held her spellbound—gunmetal gray irises took on streaks of white—a caveat, a warning not to attack him again. Oh, Mr. Goth-man could send out all the signals he liked. She wasn’t easy to intimidate. “Who the hell are you?” she snapped.

Echo Mine (Fallen Guardians #1.5) by Georgia Lyn Hunter Genre: Adult Fiction (Paranormal Romance) First Published:  August 4, 2015 Publisher: GL Hunter

A Fallen Guardian Novella--companion book to Absolute Surrender

After a horrifying incident that left her in a coma for several long months, Echo now has to get used to a different life. As a descendant of a powerful angel, her days waver between training as the new Healer and convincing her mate she’s strong enough to match him in life and in bed. 

A surprise date night gives her the perfect opportunity to do both. But plans have a way of coming unraveled. One disaster leads to another, and Echo accepts that nothing in their lives will ever be normal.

But the biggest revelation of the night comes after she kills a dangerous demonii. Sparks fly between her and her mate, proving that normal is most definitely overrated...

Echo, Mine is a novella companion to Absolute Surrender in the Fallen Guardians series by Georgia Lyn Hunter. This is giving us a peek at how Aethan and Echo's life is going since her coma. I don't feel like I got much more information from this story than I already knew from Absolute Surrender. It was almost like a shortened version of Absolute Surrender with them fighting Demonaii and Aethan trying not to touch Echo, but I missed steaminess they had in the first book. I didn't feel it as much. Where'd it go? You'll need to read Absolute Surrender first, otherwise you won't know who's who or what's what. 

Absolute Surrender and Echo, Mine by Georgia Lyn Hunter was kindly provided to me by the author for review. The opinions are my own.

Dim lights cast a sickly, pale glow over the dingy alley, adding to the portentous sensation crawling through Aethan. As if some disaster loomed, one he couldn’t quite get a grip on. He glanced at Blaéz, strolling at his side. The warrior’s calm demeanor revealed nothing. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug off his unease. “Something feels off.” “Indeed…” Blaéz murmured as they bypassed several dumpsters lined against the grimy brick wall. The things reeked as if a pack of rats had died there. “You made a decision yet?” “About what?” Blaéz cut him a cool, detached stare. A purple bruise marred his jaw. With his penchant for brutal underground fighting, Aethan wasn’t surprised. “Is it that you really don’t know, or that you haven’t decided?” Aethan frowned. His disquiet hiking in leaps now. “Celt, you talk in riddles. How the hell am I supposed to know what you’re talking about? Did you have a vision or what?” The male’s precog ability was unparalleled. Hell, everything he’d told Aethan several months ago when he’d first met his mate had transpired—shit. Fear twisted his gut. “Is it Echo?” “No.” Blaéz turned back to stare into the night. “No precog needed for this one. But it does indeed concern your mate.” Aethan stopped and pinned his fellow Guardian an annoyed glare. “Just spit it out, man. What the hell is it?” Blaéz slowly faced him. He was as tall as Aethan, a little on the leaner side, and deadlier than a detonating bazooka jammed into one’s mouth with his ability to kill with a thought. But dammit, any slower on the response, and Aethan would probably die of old age! “Heard the females talking. Your mate and her friend, Kira…” “Yeah?” Aethan prompted, clamping down on his teeth to stop from shaking the words out of the warrior. “It’s Echo’s big day next week. Her birthday. Females, from what I’ve seen on TV, get excited about the day. And presents.” Fuuccck! Suddenly feeling faint, Aethan inhaled a lungful of reeking air. This was worse than a damn demonii bolt striking him in the chest. What the hell did he do now? Echo had told him her birthdate some time ago when she’d asked him his, but he hadn’t put much stock into remembering it. Hell, when you live forever, birthdays no longer mattered. He slid his hands into his pants pockets and continued up the alley, trying to think of something amazing for his mate…and came up blank. He really didn’t want to screw this up. “Would you know—” “Google.” “Right—” Aethan broke off. A familiar insidious prickle slithered over his psyche. Demoniis. The turned brethren of demons were on the hunt again, trawling for prey, for mortal souls to replace the dying ones they’d already harvested from humans. Eyes narrowed, he scanned the night air for the source… His heightened hearing caught the faint, pained cry of a female. Trouble. Aethan dematerialized in a scattering of molecules and followed the distressed cry. He took form moments later in The Bowery and tore down the dimly lit alley, tracking the sensation, and skidded to a halt. Blaéz appeared beside him. The abandoned warehouse across the street sat too still, too dark. The icy, malevolent sensation abrading his psyche grew stronger. Beneath it, the darker, coppery odor of blood stung his nose…no, not humans. “What the hell are they up to now?”

Georgia Lyn Hunter loves to create characters who’ll take you to the far and beyond to unforgettable adventures, steamy encounters and heart-stopping love stories… She grew up in the tropical climate of South Africa and currently lives abroad with her family. An avid reader from a young age, she devoured every book she got her hands on. When she's not writing or plotting her next novel, she loves trolling flea markets, buying things because they're so pretty, travelling, and being with her supportive family. To learn more about Georgia Lyn Hunter and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Facebook, and Twitter.