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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

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Dumb request but. Uncle Bob gets jealous bc someone hits on thee reader. (It's a funny idea tbh. Also change your name. you're not boring!! you're absolutely awesome!!)

Hehe, thanks for the compliment!😂💛 I loved this idea, so I hope you like this!😊❤💛

Total Strangers.

T-800/Uncle Bob x reader

Warnings: some bad language, some light sexual implications

Masterlist

The terminator goes stiff almost as soon as we enter the store, the unusual behaviour making me lift an eyebrow at him, looking over his perfect posture in curiosity. His imposing frame easily stands out amongst the other shoppers around us, but his new discomfort puts me on edge, aware of his ability to determine and assess threats before I even know they're a problem. With this in mind, I place a hand on the cyborg's arm, looking up into his face in confusion.

"Everything alright?" I ask him, meeting his emotionless stare as he turns it on me.

"Yes." He replies bluntly, still not having quite grasped the balance between using relative information and speaking as briefly as is necessary.

"You sure? You're very tense." I probe, heading further into the shop with him, going to the section I need.

"I am positive." The terminator responds, following me, his eyes scanning the aisles as we move, the careful turn of his head still not quite natural yet, still a little automated.

"If you say so." I roll my eyes at his answers, choosing to ignore his obvious tenseness and start rifling through the racks of clothes, needing to find something to replace a couple of my old shirts.

"I did." Uncle Bob intones, standing over me, his large build hovering over me like a worried mother might fuss over her child.

It's not long before I get fed up with his presence so close to me, the terminator watching my every move, the precision in his gaze making me antsy. He shadows me around, staring at the people around us until they hastily walk away, his unnerving glare usually quite welcoming, though today it is just irritating me. After ten minutes or so, I turn to him, a small scowl etched into my face.

"Can you drop the hostile act? There's no need for it." I tell him, looking him in the eye.

"I am not sure what you mean." The T-800 frowns, cocking his head, a habit he picked up from me a few weeks ago. Usually, I find it flattering, cute, almost. But now it annoys me.

"I mean you need to stop acting like my bodyguard. It's totally safe here! You don't need to scare people off when they come within five metres of us." I clarify, gesturing to the area around us.

"Why? There is a possibility they may pose a threat to you. It is my objective to keep you safe." Bob recites, face going blank again.

Sighing in exasperation, I briefly close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose frustratedly.

"There isn't any threat, Bob. We're fine, ok?" I try to reassure him, "Just back off a bit, yeah?"

Frowning again, the cyborg nods and steps back, standing by a display of mannequins, his body going still, almost as if trying to blend in with them. Letting out a breath, I turn back to the racks and continue browsing the items there, picking out a shirt and inspecting it, my head cocked to the side, a frown playing at my expression as I consider it.

"Not your colour." A voice behind me suddenly speaks up.

Frowning properly now, I turn to face the newcomer, lowering the shirt as I give them a once-over, checking for any danger they may pose. Finding none, I relax slightly as the red-head smiles at me, showing me he means no harm, his blue eyes straying over my form with no particular subtlety.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" I reply guardedly, my body moving to face him properly.

The guy shrugs, grinning at me.

"I don't think it will work with your hair, that's all." He tells me, coming to stand beside me, picking out another shirt from the rack, "This, on the other hand…"

Eyeing the garment, I lift an eyebrow as I realise he is right, though I'm far too stubborn to admit it, so I simply place the original shirt back and start moving away.

"Aw, come on! Please don't be like that! I'm only trying to help." The guy follows after me, dropping the shirt and catching up to me.

"I don't take clothing advice from total strangers." I inform him, trying to ignore him as I flick through some more clothes, jackets this time.

"Ah, well in that case, I'm Caleb." The guy offers his hand to me, still smiling, a glint of mischief in his eye.

Glancing at him, I don't react, waiting for him to drop his hand. After a moment, he does, only to instantly pick something off the rack.

"This looks like it would suit you. Wanna try it on?" He looks me over again, holding out the jacket to me.

"Not really."

"Aw, why not?" Caleb pouts, shoulders slumping slightly.

"I told you, I don't take clothing advice from total strangers." I try not to roll my eyes, picking out a different jacket entirely.

"Hey, you know my name. I'm not a total stranger." The smirk is back on his face as he says this.

"You have known her for exactly four minutes and forty-eight seconds. You are a stranger to her." A familiar voice interrupts us, the monotone sounding words muchly appreciated now.

Holding back a smile of relief, I feel my eyes flick up over Caleb's shoulder to meet the hard blue ones staring at the guy's head. The terminator stands over us, his imposing body easily dwarfing both of us, his expression blank, though his jaw looks oddly clenched, something I've never seen him do. Caleb turns to face the cyborg, his expression falling.

"Who the hell are you?!" He bites out, the words flat as he eyes over the much larger newcomer.

"That is not relevant information for me to disclose." Bob replies evenly, staring the guy down, "Now leave. You are not wanted here."

"Fuck no, I got here first. Wait your turn, asshole." Caleb snaps at him, though his tone is a little shaky.

"You are not needed here. Leave." The cyborg intones, disregarding the previous statement.

"How do you know I'm not needed? Think you are?" The redhead snorts, "As if."

"Your presence is very clearly not welcome. She has reciprocated none of your advances, and has been blunt with you to deter you. You have ignored all of this and have continued to pester her for no reason. You are not wanted or needed, so leave." Bob begins, clearly wanting to say more, though he stops at a look from me.

"I'm not going anywhere, and you can't make me." Caleb folds his arms, planting himself in place.

Brow twitching, Bob steps forwards, moving as if to grab the smaller man, hand already outstretched, only stopping when I intervene.

"No, Bob, it's fine. He's not worth it." I stop him, ignoring Caleb's somewhat triumphant look.

Bob halts, staring the other man down, a scowl starting to creep onto his face, staying in place for a good minute, before he finally moves, reaching out to pull me into his body, marching the two of us from the shop. Goosebumps spread out along my skin where he's touched me, the hand at my waist heavy but not unwelcome, the feeling of his hard body pressed into mine making me swallow tightly. We go straight to the car, leaving no room for conversation until we get there, at which point he breaks away.

"What was all that about?" I ask him, confused by his actions, "I mean, I'm grateful that you stepped in, but you didn't have to-"

I'm cut off by the feeling of his large hands on my waist again, yanking me into his muscular body, pressing me flush against his hips. Surprised, I barely register what is happening as he smashes his lips into mine, kissing me roughly, his tongue already slipping out to trace along my lower lip as I gasp into the kiss. My eyes widen momentarily, only to fall closed as I relax into the kiss, my hands coming up to run through his hair, pushing myself closer to him, his muscles right under my touch. The terminator steps forwards, shoving me up onto the hood of the car, still kissing me, his mouth ravaging mine hungrily as his hands start to move, pushing up my shirt to caress my back, one slipping down to grip my ass, tightening around me as he presses his chest tighter against mine. Moaning, I arch my chest into him, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth, the synthetic muscle exploring and roaming everywhere it can reach, only pulling back when I tap his arm, needing to breathe.

Heads staying close together, we stare at each other, our breaths mingling with each exhale, his hands still rubbing over my skin. It's only when a wolf whistle from somewhere nearby sounds that I remember exactly where we are. Eyes widening, I pull back further and look around, noticing the group of men walking past, three of them waving and jeering at us, leaving my neck exposed to Bob. Instantly, his mouth attaches to the skin there, sucking a mark onto my pulse point almost immediately, his tongue smoothing over the area, followed by a wet kiss.

Trying not to moan too loudly, I gently push him off, already craving his touch again.

"Not here, Bob. It's not appropriate." I gasp out, lightly running a hand down his face.

"I apologise. I was unable to withhold myself." He replies, helping me down off the car, adjusting my clothes for me.

Lifting an eyebrow, I smile at him in curiosity.

He simply smirks, having learnt the action from John, doing his impression of a shrug and helping me into the car.

#terminator judgement day #terminator 2 #terminator imagine #terminator #t 800 #arnold schwarzenegger

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cinebration · 4 years ago

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Promise Enough (Tommy Conlon x Reader) [Request]

I am SO beyond excited that you are doing asks. I don't even care if you pick mine, I just adore you're writing. If you have the inspiration, could you do a Tommy Conlon x reader drabble? He's been my favorite character since forever. Reader was his best friend growing up, and when he comes back they reconnect. Unlike everyone else, she doesn't blame him for leaving or treat him any different bc of what he went through. Reader is his safe place, and is just the right amount of rough love. Xoxo — Requested by @soul-eating-butterfly

Warnings: none

Gif Source: dicapriho

You should’ve sensed it, should’ve noticed the change in the air and the sudden silence outside, as though a bowl had been placed over your little house, shielding you from the outside world. You should’ve known, because the knock on the door was so loud in the quiet that it sounded like a portent.

You should’ve known who would be on the other side of that door.

But when you opened it and saw Tommy’s face, you were shocked to your core, shaken into utter speechlessness.

“Hey,” he rasped. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he shifted uneasily on his feet, not quite meeting your gaze. A bag hung off one shoulder.

“Tommy…”

How long had it been since you had last seen him? Nearly ten years, you guessed. It felt like an eternity, all the more so because of how much you had missed him.

You hadn’t realized it until you saw him there on your doorstep.

“Come in,” you managed to say, recovering yourself.

Ducking his head in appreciation, he stepped inside, glanced around as you shut the door. “This is a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

“You got yourself a whole house.”

“Yeah.” You chuckled nervously. “I was lucky. I’ve got a good job.”

“That’s good.”

The silence hung over you like a hammer waiting to drop.

“Do you want anything? Water or something?”

Swinging the bag off his shoulder, he rummaged inside and pulled out a bottle of wine. He presented it to you with a thin smile.

“Thanks. Uh, come into the kitchen.”

You pulled out two glasses as he settled into the seat at the small kitchen table.

“You look good.”

You glanced at him, smiled nervously. “Thanks. You ain’t too bad yourself.”

He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips. Underneath it, however, was sadness, tension. Both had been evident when you had been his best friend, but it seemed to have grown heavier. His mother’s death, which you had been around for, didn’t seem to have lifted from his shoulders.

“What are you doing all the way over here on the east coast?” he asked as you brought the glasses over.

“I went to school here and never left.”

“I thought you’d hate the weather.”

“I do, but the pay is nice.”

Tommy nodded, took a sip of the wine. You followed suit but hardly tasted it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Afghanistan or something?”

He shrugged, looked away.

Looking at his closed expression, you understood immediately. Pushing past the realization, you groped for more small talk. “What brings you back here, then?”

“I dunno. Returning to my roots.”

“You don’t have any. Not really.”

He fixed you with a stare, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You met it levelly. It felt like old times, you pointing out the hard truths and he debating whether or not to return the favor.

“Yeah, guess so,” he mumbled. “And you? Got yourself a boyfriend or a husband?”

“It’s midnight. If I did, do you think I’d be alone right now?”

He snorted. “Fair enough.”

Crickets chirruped outside the window.

“So, now that you’re back, what will you be up to?”

“Dunno.”

Your fingernails tapped against the wine stem as you tried to read his face. A small chasm existed between you both, a product of years gone by without contact. But you knew there was a bridge somewhere—rickety and potentially dangerous, but one you were determined to cross.

“Maybe you can go back to fighting,” you offered. “In the ring.”

He nodded as though the idea hadn’t occurred to him. The slight crease in his brow told you he was actually considering it.

“There’s a gym nearby.”

He nodded again, took another pull of the wine.

“Is there…something you came here to talk about?”

Stilling in his seat, Tommy hesitated, avoided your eyes.

He wasn’t ready.

Trying not to frown, you hid behind the wine glass, taking a long swig of it, before saying, “Whatever you decide, you can crash here in the meantime.”

“I don’t wanna bother you.”

“Not a bother, Tommy. Never was, never will be.”

The intensity of his gaze nearly made you melt in your seat. It spoke louder than his words, telling you how grateful he was.

He went into the living room while you went for some blankets to make up the couch. Your heart fluttered and your skin itched with apprehension. Why had he come here? What did he need? Could you provide it?

The thoughts plagued you like locusts.

When you returned, you found him by the mantle looking at the only two picture frames you had there: one of your parents and another of you and Tommy. Picking up the picture, he stared at his younger self, you beside him. Genuine smiles graced both your faces.

“I remember his,” he mumbled, a faint smile touching the corners of his lips.

“It was a good day.”

He grunted in agreement and replaced the photo on the mantle. You waited until he faced you before asking, “What are you looking for, Tommy?”

He shrugged, glanced away.

“No,” you said, forcing him to look at you. “Answer the question.”

Shifting uneasily on his feet, he looked away again. The silence weighed heavily on you both.

Sighing, you placed the blankets on the bed, turned to go.

Hesitated.

“Just…” You struggled to dislodge the words in your throat. “Promise me you won’t leave again. Not without saying goodbye.”

Tommy stared at you. You met his gaze.

He nodded.

When you woke in the morning, daylight streaming in through a crack in your curtains, you found your house empty.

Stomach plummeting, you stared at the couch. He had dutifully folded up the sheets and replaced them in a stack beside one of the arms. You sunk down beside the pile, dragged the topmost sheet onto your lap. It smelled like him, a slight musky odor mixed with sweat and the mint scent of the gum he chewed.

If it weren’t for that, you would have sworn his visit had been a figment of your imagination, a fever dream. He hadn’t really agreed to your promise, confined himself to an obligation to you based on a past connection you weren’t sure he acknowledged anymore.

Trying not to feel hurt, you pushed yourself off the couch and shuffled into the kitchen. To your surprise, the coffee pot was half full, still slightly warm. Before it rested a note with a phone number written in Tommy’s uneven hand.

You smiled, hope fluttering in your chest.

It was promise enough.

#Tommy Conlon x Reader #Tommy Conlon #Tommy Conlon imagine #Tom Hardy x Reader #Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy imagine #Warrior #Warrior (2011)#requests

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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My Person, My Love, My Mate (Alpha!Alyssa Naeher x Omega!Reader)

Request 1: Alpha!Alyssa x Omega!Reader: Where Alyssa gets possessive and jealous when fans start shipping her omega with another alpha on the team. Bc of this, R and the other alpha spend more time together for publicity stuff, which then leads to the other alpha’s scent on her. Alyssa has to contain herself while in the spotlight, but in private, she lashes out at R bc of her own insecurity and jealousy. This ends with R reassuring her and having Alyssa mark her up before she has to be around them again

Request 2: Alpha!Alyssa x omega!reader.Where the reader has always been paired with another alpha on the team which A hates. But then the reader goes into heat

Authors Note: Hey dudes, It felt more natural for me to combine these than to try and do them separately. I hope you enjoy! Hit me up with questions or if your just wanna say Hi!

The media sucked and having a beta coaching staff sucked even more. At least that’s what Alyssa had taken from this entire experience. You and Kelley were best friends. That wasn’t the part that bothered her. No, it was the fact that spending lots of time with Kelley also meant that you spent a lot of time with her alphas by default.

She knew that Carlie and Hope only had eyes for Kelley, but that didn’t lessen the sting of the fans continuously shipping you with Hope. It didn’t help that Jill had been determined to use your friendship with the alpha to sell tickets. At least Vlatko had agreed to back off a bit, but that didn’t stop the tendrils of jealousy from winding their way around her heart at the photo some fans had taken. Photos of you sitting very close to the other Alpha goalkeeper, and one photo of your hands in her lap.

The fans were going insane, saying that this was proof that you were mated to Hope. Alyssa’s alpha really didn’t like that. She knew you loved her, and that you were her mate, but it was really hard to smother the instincts that demanded she show you who you belonged to. You were extraordinarily independent and much like the rest of the omegas on the team didn’t take well to alphas trying to throw their weight around.

The opening of the hotel room door broke the alpha out of her thought, her eyes immediately being drawn to you as you entered the room. You glanced up from your texting, a vibrant smile breaking across your face the second you saw your alpha. “Hey Babe,” Your eyes shined.

“Hey,” Alyssa sent you a half-smile in return, a half-smile that didn't reach her eyes.

You took a step towards your mate and leaning in to peck her lips, only for her to turn her head so you got her cheek instead. You frowned, tilting your head to the side much like a puppy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,“ Alyssa denied with a pout, crossing her arms and refusing to look at you. You could feel her agitation leaking through your bond.

“Yeah and I’m a Goalkeeper.” You snorted, trying to alleviate the tension. Your alpha snapped her eyes to your own, a wave of dominant pheromones leaking into the air. You closed the remaining distance between you and your alpha, weaseling your way under her strong arms and burrowing into her neck, trying to comfort her.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered, making your voice small and running your nose under her scent gland, trying to appease her alpha. She was the only one you would willingly submit too, and it took you a very long time to realize that doing so didn’t make you weak.

“How was dinner?” Alyssa huffed, pulling her chin just out of your reach. You sat up to look her in the eyes, her arm wrapped around your waist to prevent you from falling. She might be upset with you but she would never want you to fall and get hurt.

“Fine, Kelley spilled mustard all over Hope’s lap” You laughed lightly, and a dark look crossed your alpha’s face at the mention of the other keeper. A look that made your inner omega cower just a little. Alyssa would never hurt you, she was your mate and she loved you, but you still felt the demand for your submissions stronger.

“Is that why you patting her with a napkin is all over social media?” She asked lowly, her lips forming a thin like.

“Is that what this is about? I already told you, nothing is going on between me and her. She’s got Carlie and Kelley” You rolled your eyes at the woman good-naturedly, dismissing the claim and hoping that this would be the end of it. All you wanted right now was to cuddle up with your mate under some blankets. You craved her calm energy after spending so much time with the team's chaos.

“You were all over her,” Your alpha growled back dangerously. Tension radiated through your bond and a wave of very unhappy scents washed over you. You frowned, moving from her lap to the end of the bed. Though your inner omega protested at the action, you thought you needed a bit of space for this conversation.

“No. I was sitting next to her and she had stuff all over her. All I did was give her a napkin,” You replied slowly, all amusement being replaced with agitation. You gave no reason for Alyssa to be jealous. Did she not trust you? Was that why she was flipping out so much?

“You touched her,” Alysha glared back, her teeth gritting as she fought to control her inner alpha. She was always 2nd to Hope, but she wouldn’t lose you too. Rationally she knew that you loved her, but it was so hard to be rational when the fans were always shoving your friendship in her face. It was hard to remember that you wore her mark when you were always so close to Hope.

“I’m not having this conversation again Lyss. She’s my friend, nothing more,” You started firmly, fighting the urge to submit to the dominant pheromones coming from your mate. You also fought your inner omegas desire to cuddle up to the woman, to appease your alpha, and beg for forgiveness. You shook your head, trying to stop the war going on between you as a person and your inner omega.

“She doesn’t get to touch what’s mine,” Alyssa roared, standing to her full height and towering over you.

That irked you. In this context her claim didn’t fill you with warmth, instead, it made you feel like a chew toy being fought over.

“I’m an omega, not an object,” You released a growl of your own, standing toe to toe with your alpha. (Had you not been so pissed off, you would have through the height difference was funny as you only came up to her chin. You had to tilt your head to stare her in the eyes). “And you’re being irrationally jealous,” You jabbed your pointer finger in her chest angrily.

Just because Alyssa was your mate, and you loved her didn’t mean that she had the right to be overbearing. You were an adult, and your status as an omega didn’t make you incompetent. No one got to try and use your bearing against you to make you bend to their will. How fucking dare she.

“You’re not going to hang out with her anymore,” Alyssa ground out, grabbing your wrist. You smelled like the other keeper, and her alpha wasn’t having it. She brought your wrist to her nose, rubbing the appendage and leaving her very strong scent behind. You stared at the woman in disbelief.

“I think I need some air,” You said shortly, stopping your arm away from your alpha and stalking towards the door. She was your mate, not your mother. She didn’t get to tell you what to do. You were partners.

The rage humming down your bond shocked Alyssa, breaking her out of her jealous tirade. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, her eyes widening as she realized exactly what she had done.

You were mistrustful of alphas, to begin with, disdainful of their propensity to be protective and possessive. You hated that your omega craved those things, and fought valiantly for your independence. Alyssa respected that, well she had until about 5 minutes ago.

She watched in horror as your hand twisted the doorknob, unsure of how this had spiraled into you leaving. How this had turned into her pushing you away and breaking all the promises she had made to you.

“Where are you going?” She asked hoarsely, barely able to get the words out as the tears started.

“Out, until you realize we’re not in the 1950s and that I’m your equal,” You spat back, ripping the door open, moving to step into the hallway. You weren’t sure where you were going to end up, but anywhere was better than right here.

“Y/n wait,” Alyssa tried desperately stepping towards you.

“Just-, just don’t,” You husked out, your saddened voice pinning her to the spot. You furiously tried to wipe the tears from your eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in her arms and tell you how sorry she was, but she didn’t. You shook your head, slamming the door behind you.

You loved Alyssa but you wouldn’t tolerate unabashed jealousy. You were a person, not an object. You would talk it out with her later when cooler heads could prevail. But for right now you needed space to calm down and think over the conversation you had just had.

*****

Alyssa was getting anxious. After your fight, you hadn’t returned to the room, you had avoided her for the entire free day the team had, and now the entire team was gathered in the conference room and you were again missing. She could feel your misery through your bond, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to relax until she saw you. You were her omega to protect and it was her job to fix this mess.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Kelley’s voice brought her out of her spiraling as the little omega shoved her lightly, her two alphas trailing behind her.

She glanced at the omega, her inner animal perking up at the scent of her mate. So that’s where you had run off too, she should have known. Kelley was your best friend, more like your sister, it was the most logical place for you to go. (She didn’t like that you were around the alpha of her ire, but she was glad that you had gone to someone who could take care of you).

She gulped, pushing her pride aside at the tone the omega took with her, privately glad that your best friend was such a good protector.

“Look, I know I messed up, and I’m ready to apologize and talk it out with Y/n,” She said quietly.

“Yeah, well too bad, your fucking fight sent her into heat. She’s a mess and she wouldn’t let us call you to come to help her,” Kelley growled back, she probably would have launched herself at the alpha bad Carlie not been wrapped around her waist. It had hurt all of them to watch you be so strung out while they couldn’t do anything to help you. It was pretty common for massive events (happy or unhappy) to send omegas into heat. It was a good way for them to obtain the comfort they needed or celebrate something amazing. Your fight had been intense, so Alyssa shouldn’t have been surprised that it sent you into heat, but she could hope.

“Where is she?” The alpha growled, her instincts taking over the moment she heard you were in heat. Heats could be super painful, especially for a mates omega. Kelley softened at the desperation rolling off of the alpha. She knew that the two of you loved each other, but she wouldn’t stand for you being disrespected.

“Currently in our room,” Hope answered, immediately passing over the room key. Lowering her eyes just slightly. She felt bad that this mess was partially her fault, and she would do whatever she could to help you. You were practically Kelley’s family, and by default hers too. If it meant conceding to Alyssa as a peace offering, then that’s exactly what she would do.

Alyssa nodded her thanks, blown away by the slight show of submission. A show that conveyed that the other alpha knew that you were hers. She took the key and immediately made to go find you. To hopefully fix this mess and comfort you all in on go.

“She wouldn’t let Hope or Carlie near her even though their scents would probably help. She just kept saying that you would reject her,” Kelley called after her, and the Alpha froze by the door. Omegas craved physical affection in heat, and even an alpha that wasn’t one's mate could ease some of the more intense symptoms. She would never reject you. She may get jealous and frustrated, but she would never ever willingly give you up. You were wrong, independent, gorgeous, and the love of her life.

“I fucked up, I know. Now please let me go and try to fix it,” Alyssa whispered, her voice broken.

“Don’t hurt her,” Kelley growled back.

“I won’t, and thank you for taking care of her,” Alyssa nodded, looking over the flying squirrel's shoulder at Carlie and Hope.

“Anytime hotshot, I know you would do the same for Kell, now go help baby bear,” Hope smiled lightly, shoring her out of the conference room. You needed Alyssa more than the team did right now, the sooner she got there the better.

****

You were curled up tight in bed, sweat pouring down your forehead, and shiver wracking down your spine. Every piece of you craved your alpha, but you knew she wouldn’t come. Rationally you knew that Alyssa still loved you and that the fight didn’t change that, but with the heat running through your veins, rational thought was incredibly difficult. Impossible really.

You shifted in bed, burying your face in Kelley’s pillow, and praying that it would bring you some comfort from the aches that were wracking your lower back, and the cramps rolling through your stomach. If you thought about Alyssa hard enough, you could almost smell her comforting pheromones. Almost feel her warm form molded to your own, giving you the knot you so desperately craved.

You were so out of it that you didn’t notice the door open, on the hesitant form sitting on the edge of the bed, until she reached out and placed a comforting hand on your forehead, brushing the sweaty strands of hair back.

“Lyss?,” You husked out, cracking your eyes open, and blinking sleepily at your very nervous alpha. Your scent called to her so desperately, like the smell of a funnel cake at a fair.

“Hey baby doll,” She smiled softly at you. You grabbed the hand running through your hair, pulling her wrist to your nose and taking in her comforting scent. She sent out another wave of soothing pheromones in an attempt to sate you for a few moments.

“M’ sorry,” You mumbled into her skin, unwilling to remove the appendage from your nose.

“You have nothing to apologize for little one, I was being an ignorant alpha because I was jealous. I won’t disrespect you like that again,” She murmured back, pulling you up into her lap. You nuzzled into the skin of her neck, just under her scent gland, showing your acceptance of her apology.

“Don wan Hope, only wan you,” You huffed, your hands reaching under her shirt to rub her abs. You needed her to understand that. There would be time later to have a real talk, but having her so close was throwing your control out the window.

“I know babe, and I’ll control myself in the future,” She hummed, rubbing your back.

“Love you,” You said as you kissed her chin, the ache in your lower belly getting impossibly stronger. You needed her, and you needed her now.

“Love you too, now let me take care of you,” She smiled, pecking your forehead, and rolling you over. There would be time later for her to apologize when you were both thinking with the right head. When your symptoms were eased, but for now she would show you how much she loved you. How much she cherished you. She would show you that yes, you were a person and not an object, but you were her person. Her mate.

Later the team would make fun of you for how many marks Alyssa left behind, but that was a problem for future you. For now, Alyssa would take care of you, and make you feel like the most loved human in the world.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #alyssa naeher x reader #alyssa naeher imagine

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thevoidcannotbefilled · 4 years ago

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Web!Martin.... Oh boy. Gonna shake the hornet’s nest with this one, but I’ve spent like three days on this editing and re-editing, and I’m finally satisfied with my kind of an essay at this point.

So, here’s a deep dive as to why I think Web!Martin has merits. (Scroll to the bottom of my essay for my TLDR).

Introduction

First, to get some stuff out of the way:

Do I think Martin is a sleeper agent? Do I think that he has been manipulating Jon this entire time or even in just season 5 for the games of the Web? Do I think he's a bunch of spiders in a Martin suit? Do I think he's regards the Mother as his Mother and accepts that he is her Son? Is Martn actively Webby?

No. Absolutely not. None of the above. The Martin we know is the Martin we began with, just with a bunch of trauma and has gained the ability to set his boundaries.

I find the idea of sleeper agent Martin or something similar to be very counterintuitive to the overall narrative. Not only is TMA about choices, and to have Martin be a sleeper agent would be to deny all of Martin's choices this season in particular, but it doesn't really lead to much. At best it's a gotcha and a surprise at worst it's making literally every interaction between Jon and Martin, with Martin himself, and so on mean nothing for the sake of one twist and make it sad. It's not fun in long term, and so at the end of the day, I trust Jonny and Alex as writers more than that. (Plus we already did the "person is replaced" thing).

Does Martin being a manipulator actively mean that he is a Web avatar?

Short answer, no.

Long answer, I made a post awhile back, and while it was for fandom things, I think it applies well here. What power you choose to align yourself with isn’t necessarily something you’d fully commit to. It is just, if you were an avatar and willing to hurt others for your own gain, what would you find yourself most aligned with. What I mean by that, just because Martin lies and manipulates doesn’t mean that he is Web, however, manipulation is a tool does fit well with the Web, and if he were to choose to align himself to that, I think he could be Webby. However, he is not necessarily a Web avatar because he has no motivation to hurt people.

That being said I do think Martin would be a good fit for the Web if he wanted to be, and I think there will be a point in the narrative that there is a potential that he could become one, even if he does not necessarily choose to be in the end.

Let’s talk about it.

Evidence

I think the best way to describe Web!Martin on my end is this: if Martin had an inclination to be an avatar, he would be the Web because everything from his aesthetics to his skillsets line up with the Web, but he does not have any reason to be Webby and in fact, at the very least as of MAG169, should actively be against the Web’s goals.

But that doesn’t mean his connection to the Web hasn’t been heavily foreshadowed or built up. Not all of these are of the same level, I admit that, so I’m just gonna bold the ones that are the most important. These aren’t in any particular order.

-For season 1 subtext, said he liked spiders In This First Appearance MAG22, in MAG38 Jon says that Martin gives them lectures on the importance of spiders for the environment, and MAG39, “it’s just that whatever web these statements have caught you in, well, I’m there too.”

-IN MAG79, his poem has a line in it that goes, “"the threads of people walking, living, loving" which is very Web-like.

-During the Web statement he read in season 3, he said “that wasn’t so bad, actually!” (MAG110) when he finished after showing open disdain for the others he read. The only other statement he didn’t think was bad to read was the Lonely one (MAG108), a power he canonical has ties to.

-The only person in the show so far of the main cast that has had direct contact with Annabelle Cane. The only other people that have had contact with her are her victims (Creature Feature, MAG110) or her people she used as tools (Web Development, MAG123).

-Let himself be guided to put the tapes on top of the coffin when the tapes, which have shown a direct association with both the Web and the Eye.

- Martin’s “lo-fi charm” and “retro-aesthetic” (various) versus Annabelle “She dressed like a vintage clothing store exploded on her” (MAG69)

-Uses lying and manipulation as his main tactic against people and is acknowledged that manipulation is a skillset of his. By Jonah mostly, but he was able to successfully manipulate both Peter and Jonah.

-In MAG117, he said "I’m not afraid for me, though. Isn’t that weird? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to be safe, like my plan’s not dangerous, but it’s, it’s mine. This last couple of years, I’ve always been running, always hiding, caught in someone else’s trap, but, but now it’s my trap, and, well, I think it’ll work. I know, I know it’s not exactly intricate, but it felt good weaving my own little web." and he then added after it with "oh good lord is Martin becoming some sort of spider person', no, Jon, just an expression.”

-Martin having a bad relationship with his mother versus Mother of Puppets.

-The Web and the Desolation actively dislike one another (MAG139), and fire is Martin’s most hated pain (MAG169).

-Martin is the primary investigator in Recluse (MAG59), Arachnophobia (MAG16), and was the one to find and give the Cracked Foundation (MAG114) to Jon. All of which are Web statements.

-The delivery of the table and the lighter were technically both given to Martin since he was the one who talked to Breekon and Hope.

-Martin was the first one to mention the Web lighter in season 5 in MAG162.

What Does This Mean

Now I will admit none of these things on their own mean Web!Martin. They’re something you might describe a Web!avatar yes, but not Martin on his own (like I said just because Martin can be a manipulator doesn’t mean he is a Web avatar).

In fact, with elements like Martin finding fire his least favorite pain, I adore the meta on Martin’s trauma about giving himself up for other people led to him disliking fire and the lack of care from his mother, also leading to that. It is an excellent metaphor that fits incredibly well with his character. That being said, these factors can coexist. Martin disliking fire can both be a metaphor for his own self-destruction for the sake of others and be hints toward Web!Martin.

HOWEVER, that all being said, even if these moments on their own don’t mean Web!Martin proof, I find it a bit unreasonable to entirely dismiss all of this either. There are too many coincidences lining up with the Web to not be intentional. It could be a red herring of course, but if it is a red herring.....well, Jonny put a hella of a lot of effort into making the Web!Martin red herring considering how much of his little details align so well with the small and big details of the Web.

But assuming that this info does align together in all its Webiness... does this mean Web!Martin?

Again, at the moment, I don’t think Martin is actively Webby.

At his heart, Martin wants to do two things: 1) Protect Jon and 2) Protect as many other innocents he can in the process.

As ironic as it is: "I want to find out what's going on. I want to save Jon. I want everyone to be fine and, you know what? If we were all happy that wouldn't actually be the end of the world” and “I want them to be safe. I need him to be okay” are basically the sum of Martin’s motivations from here to now. Martin wants a happy ending. And he’ll use whatever tools he can to do that.

So asking questions from dangerous people like Simon Fairchild? For the protection of the world from what he thought was from the Extinction.

Burning up statements and burning up the cabin? The Desolation would like that, if it wasn’t for the fact he does so to decrease the fear in the world.

And manipulating others? Peter? Jonah? Both of these weren’t to cause fear. They were at their heart to help others.

Using the tools that the powers use does not mean you’re of that power. Martin’s most effective tool is to manipulate others bc they underestimate him or they trust him to do what needs to be done. People tend to have a single view of him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have other tactics, but with both Peter and Elias, it’s clear he knows how to use others’ egos against them.

Season 5 and Web!Martin

This ALL being said...... Season 5 is a lot about the nature of power (what to do with it and what it means to use it) and what you can do in inherently toxic systems. We just learned that killing its leaders does nothing when the system itself is built to actively hurt others. That smiting doesn’t actively make things better. The Web is actively doing something at the moment and possibly with the Distortion as well that will probably hurt Jon and Martin.

But.....

I’m worried about the possibility that the Web can promise a world with a happy ending like Martin always wanted and with no other options within the world, Martin chooses to let himself become a tool for the Web. Now to make this clear: Does Web!Martin give a happy ending or even a better world? No. Absolutely not. Can the Web possibly promise to give him the power to get a happy ending? Depends on if Martin will believe it.

If Web!Martin is a thing, it would be in doing so What He Thinks would be in both of their best interests and most importantly as his lowest point and final resort. That he stops believing that they have power to change the world on their own. When he believes he has no power left and all he can do to make the world better is to go to the one source that always seems to understand what’s going on. Because as of yet, he doesn’t have the motivations to be a Web avatar, but we’re slowly creeping into territory where he might think it is necessary to be one.

(We already had best case scenario where the Web asks Martin to join him and Martin says no. He could say no again, of course, but I don’t know if the Web will be as understanding of his reluctance in time).

For me, Web!Martin is on the same level of tragedy as Jon being the Archivist. Yes, there would be choices, but Martin would have been actively been manipulated by the Web just as much as Jon would be hurt by the Eye, even if it’s for entirely different reasons. He would be used as a tool in a greater game. Jon wants to be a good person. Martin wants to have a happy ending. We already know Jon’s desire to help the people around him has gotten him multiple marks. I can definitely see a world where Martin’s desire for a happy ending is used against him by the Web.

I can see a world where Martin lies to Jon because he thinks that’s what’s best for the two of them. I can see a world where he doesn’t lie to Jon but still accepts the power of the Web anyway despite Jon not thinking it’s a good idea. I don’t think either HAVE happened yet. We aren’t at that point, but...

Whatever the case, whatever plan the Web may have it highly involves one Mister Blackwood and his Archivist. And for the Web’s plans, Martin plays a key part of in it.

Other Theories and How Web Martin Plays Into It

So, do I think that’s where the plot will end? With Web!Martin betraying Jon bc he thinks it will be best? Not really. I think a lot of the point will also be that while Martin fits the Web well, his inherent desire for a better world makes it so he’s not an avatar. It’s the same points I made before: aesthetically, Martin fits the Web well and could be a good avatar in association, but he doesn’t WANT to hurt innocents. And ultimately, no matter his potential goals, Martin loves and cares for the world and especially for Jon. There could be a mistake in there made by Martin, where the Web has his clutches in him, but I don’t see a world where that is his ultimate conclusion.

I’ve also seen a theory where Martin uses Webby shenanigans to his advantage against Annabelle Cane. Where the manipulator becomes the manipulated and the tragedy is the sacrifice of himself for the sake of a happy ending he’ll never see.

I’m interested in seeing if Jonah making Martin the backup Archivist goes anywhere, especially with the uncertain connection between the tapes, the Eye, the Web, and the Archivist. Does this have anything to do with why Martin felt like he had to listen to Jon? Does this have anything to do with how he slapped Jon out of a statement? Could both of these elements also have something to do with the Web?

I’m also very intrigued on what Web Development was doing when they have something called a “story-spinner” and yet when the story-spinner was described it sounded almost exactly like an Archivist, but instead when you give a story, the spinner killed someone. Could the story-spinner have anything to do with the previous back-up Archivist? Could they just be entirely separate things?

Who knows what it all means? I don’t. That’s why I’m not discounting anything, especially with something that has so much set-up and subtext as Web!Martin. Whether Web!Martin means full avatar or not isn’t clear to me, but I’m taking any and all potential red-tape moments and running with them. If it means being pulled by a red-herring, so be it, but I won’t dismiss anything until proven otherwise. As long as Martin wants to do good and have a happy ending, I don’t think the Web can fully get him at least not in the ways that count. But I won’t stop investigating the narrative on what these elements could lead up to.

Conclusion

This post was made in frustration. I admit that. There is a distaste for Web!Martin that has been approaching the fandom that I don’t entirely understand. I’m not saying you have to like it, heck I admit, I could be entirely wrong. I also agree it’s a bit annoying that every interaction that Martin and Jon have come up under scrutiny for Martin potentially being Webby by the fandom. That’s why I started this post as I did because I don’t find the narrative of “Martin Is The Evil Bad Guy Manipulating Jon From The Beginning” all that compelling and wanted to put that to rest early.

I do, though, find it frustrating dismissing all elements of Web!Martin because of this. At the end of the day, I find there are too many elements in the text to entirely dismiss it and an outright rejection of Web!Martin can potentially lead to dissatisfaction with the narrative. I make this post as an explanation and exploration of my thoughts, and a way to show why so many fans like the Web!Martin theory. Take it or leave it, it’s fine, but I wanted to gather all my thoughts clearly in one place rather than in a bunch of snippy posts. I hope I’ve done that well enough.

TLDR: Web!Martin for me is a potential, a threat, and a possibility, but not something I think is actively happening at the moment. Martin would make a good fit for an avatar if he wanted to be, but at the moment, has no motivation to do so. However, with the ever decreasing options to save the end of the world, I can see a situation where Web!Martin is a thing that he actively thinks could save it.

That being said, Martin is inherently a character that wants to do GOOD in the world, and as long as that’s the case, even if that motivation is used against him, I don’t think he will be proven wrong that the world can be good and he has the power to make it so, or at the very least, I don’t think his journey will end on a dower note, even if it is a tragic one. The tragedy will be in the cost of saving the world or something similar, and whether or not Web!Martin is the case, I don’t think that will change. That being said, there are many potential theories on what could happen, and I don’t want to miss any of them, Web or not. This post has been made in somewhat defense as to why people like Web!Martin and continue to theorize about it, but also in reassurance that even if we do get Web!Martin that it doesn’t mean a destruction of Martin’s character.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma meta #web!martin #tma spoilers #tma s5 #I made an essay but needed to put my thoughts together #long post #ALSO THANK YOU GAMMI AND CHIN FOR YOUR HELP WITH THIS!!!#edit: my read more died when I edited on mobile gdi sorry

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awellboiledicicle · 5 years ago

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Mok’s Mod List 2.0

Note that some of these mods require Content Patcher from the Nexus, and some mods listed need a bit of tweaking.

But thats not the point, the point is wanting to play Stardew Valley with Additions.

[cp] Babies Take After Spouse by Lakoria

What it says on the tin-- this mod lets your kids look like your kids! Its nice.

[cp] Dammit Clint Stop Hitting on My Wife by Rubecula

Tweaks Clint’s whole... thing to be closer to the whole “Guy with super bad social skills and anxiety about trying to talk to people”/”not really outgoing dude” and not so much “dude that literally watches Emily at her place of work and from bushes outside her house”/”Incel that you’d call the cops on if possible”. It correctly stops him hitting on emily when married to you. It makes him way more personable in terms of not setting off creep vibes. There’s a version available also of toning things down while being just friends.

[cp] Elle's Cat Replacements by Junimods

[cp] Elle's Dog Replacements by Junimods

[cp] Elle's New Barn Animals by Junimods

[cp] Elle's New Coop Animals by Junimods

[cp] Elle's New Horses by Junimods

Lumping these together because they let you customize almost every sprite of a thing on your farm. Different cats, different breeds of dog, and new cuter barn animals, and horses.

[Cp] Seasonal Villager outfits by Tanpopnoko and ParadigmNomad

Changes the villagers outfits as seasons change. No more Haley walking around in a tanktop and short skirts while theres like 3 feet of snow. Cute sweaters! Evelyn with nice sun hats! George not covered in food mess!

[cp ]Stardew Lottery Letters by Jokerine

You wanna play the lottery without putting anything in, and get like, cake when you don’t win? Want surprise money at random? Of course you do. Thats what this does.

[cp] Canon Friendly dialogue expansion for all friend-able characters by Gizzymo

You ever play a file so long you’ve heard literally everything the npc’s can say? Like several times? Get this and get v in character lines that are spread out over the years.

Abigail Dialogue Expansion by farmerjack

More Abigail! More words!

Adjust Baby Chance by JertsukkaTheMan

Some of us want to start a game with the goal of having a family with an LI. Its nice, its cute etc. But sometimes the game just won’t make your spouse ask you about having kids. For years. So this mod lets you adjust the chance of your spouse asking.

All Professions by cantorsdust

Tired of only having one set of proficiency? Long to be a titan of farming? think its bullshit that you can’t master raising cattle AND growing potatoes? This mod unlocks both professions as you level things up.

Animal Sitter by jwdred

Let your pet feed, water, and care for your farm animals. Or have your spouse do it. Pay for it or don’t, set if animal things go in to your inventory or a chest. Is very good if you wanna have animals but also are bad at telling which you’ve pet and which ones you haven’t.

Better Fruit Trees by CatCattyCat

Do you want an orchard without having to space things like a dnd movement grid?

CJB Cheats Menu by CJBok and Pathoschild

Make fishing easier! Change walking speed! Change relationship levels! Complete that quest that you can’t find the thing for! Get chips for the casino! Get money i guess!

CJB Item Spawner by CJBok

Decorate without being tied to the whims of everything else. Get things for quests. get ore without going mining bc mining is Danger sometimes.

DokiDoki Dialogue Alex by alistairweekend

DokiDoki Dialogue Elliott by alistairweekend

DokiDoki Dialogue Harvey by alistairweekend

DokiDoki Dialogue Sam by alistairweekend

DokiDoki Dialogue Sebastian by alistairweekend

Collecting this together because it basically just adds more dialogue that makes the relationships much more convincing.

Family Planning by loe2run

Lets you set the max number of children you and your spouse can have at a time.

Free Dusty by skuld

Freedom for the doggo! Allows Alex’s dog Dusty to wander the town with Alex or wait for him in places. Not great irl, very good in game with the alternative being a way too small yard.

Gift Taste helper by tstaples

If you hover over the calendar on a birthday or on the portrait on your social menu, it’ll let you know what people like getting. A life saver.

Happy Birthday by Omegasis

Lets you set a birthday for your Farmer, because really, you should have one.

Immersive Festival Dialogue by tangeriney

People now actually talk about the festivals happening around town! Like you know, normal people.

Instant grow Trees by cantorsdust

are you, too, impatient as shit? Want to have a syrup farm in a specific pattern but dont wanna wait? Get this and instant trees in the morning.

Kisekae by Kabigon [use Pathoschild unofficial update]

Like Get Dressed, this mod lets you alter the image of your farmer without having to pay the wizard. Why do you have to do dark magic for a haircut. It’s bullshit. So use this mod and get dressed up for festivals. The unofficial patch is on the compatibility page of the wiki.

Longjevity by RTGOAT

Adds more things to the game. Optional taxes, also adds more crops and clothing changes, and soda crafting. Can conflict with Seasonal Outfits, but can be worked in together.

Map image exporter by spacechase0

Screenshots are now less of a pain

NPC Map Locations by Bouhm

“Where the fuck are they?” a sentence of the past! Adds markers to the location of villagers and shows if they move.

Paririe King Made Easy by Mucchan and PathosChild

Spelling Prairie is hard, but the games shouldn’t be. Makes you functionally immortal bc that minigame hurts me.

Range Display by CatCattyCat

Displays a colored grid showing how far things cover. Scarecrows, beehives, and sprinklers. No more guessing where things reach!

Remote Fridge Storage by arjan3004

Fridge is tiny, is too small for mighty farming and foraging skills. Chest, though, chest is many and large together. Use chest as ice chest to store fridge, and cook with those things! No inventory management required.

Replanter by jwdred

Like Animal Sitter, but for the farm bit. Option for instant selling upon harvest. Also has option to put it into a chest for later.

Part of the Community by bmarquismarkail

Ever feel weird about the fact you never get to know people through, like, social osmosis? Like if you’re super good friends with Sam, he’s probably talked to his family and friends about you. If you’re selling all these things to people, and helping people out, shouldn’t most people at least know ur a chill person? This mod gives a couple points toward your relationship to the citizens for every festival, for every thing sent in the box, and if you talk to people in a room with others, they all get a point or five. It’s very useful for keeping relationships going.

SBM Black Roof by ??

Mod i used to make my house pretty, but i can’t find it anywhere.

Skull Cavern Elevator by Bifibi

Adds an elevator to Skull cavern, with option to change when the thing appears. No need to keep trying to not die every 10 floors only to need to do it again later.

Stardew Hack by bcmpinc

Basic thing that allows for below mod.

Wear More Rings by bcmpinc

You have ten fingers, why not so many rings? It would only make sense. So get your shinies on yall

Note 2: I have not included links in the post as links would make it not show up in the tags and thus would make sharing harder. Searching the Nexus modding website or the compatibility page will get you there.

#mod list #stardew valley #stardew valley mods #sdv #sdv mods

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isadcrajade · 4 years ago

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💀 * [ barbie ferreira + cis female + she/her ] —— have you met isadora oliveira ? they are a twenty-one year old sophomore currently studying fashion design & merchandising. they live on keating house, and word around campus is that this aries is loyal + warm, as well as self-objectifying + obsequious. i wonder if they’ll make it out alive. chocolate covered strawberries, gothic platforms, lingerie under leather jackets.

hiii bbies it’s me (gabby) finally here again to post this finalized, messy version of isa’s intro! she’s a brand new never-been-played muse of mine so it’s def bound to be a bit more scattered & less developed than ezra’s, but also much shorter? so i mean there’s a bonus lmao alright here we go:

so isadora (also known by many nicknames such as isa, izzy, iz, & dora the explora if ur trying to piss her off vgbjhksjs) was definitely not brought up in a world of prestige and recognition like the one she’s become so accustomed to in attending holloway university

growing up in the small town of lisbon, maine the only reality isa knew during her childhood was that of living as the only child of a woman who was (TW) both a compulsive liar & and compulsive hoarder. their house was floor to ceiling with things her mom collected as well as garbage built up over time- her condition had already driven isa’s father out of the house when she was just three years old, and she never had a relationship with him as a result

she was still fairly young when she realized the true severity of her own situation, just how abnormal it was compared to that of her friends. she missed out on so many rights of passage during her upbringing like birthday parties, sleepovers, etc. for much of her life her own living space / bedroom were just as bad off as the rest of the house, given her mom’s inability to keep from passing her hoarding tendencies onto her daughter. isa simply didn’t know any better at the time. to her, that was normal.

not only was her mom a compulsive liar & hoarder but she was also extremely neglectful, often leaving isa to her own devices in the dangerous environment they called home. as a result of this she (TW ED) developed harmful coping mechanisms surrounding food, regularly overeating to combat negative feelings of loneliness, and this went on from the time she was just a little girl all the way until she was in high school

high school was rough in many ways- she suffered depression, anxiety, experienced bullying at the hands of the more popular kids for her weight & her mother’s financial situation, and was all around extremely isolated from her peers- the only person she really had to depend on was her cousin (WC) . she had so much respect and envy for her cousin, they had more of a sisterly dynamic than anything, she was just so gorgeous and everything she did just seemed so effortless, to the point isa couldn’t help but idolize her and consider her a best friend.

like, remember when spongebob said he hoped that by being in squidward’s presence some of his artistic ability would rub off onto him? that was deadass isa & (WC) in high school jhbksnjs my girl was so sure if she just spent enough time with her she’d inherit some of her pretty & cool

high school was also where she reached a turning point when it came to her home environment, able to put a name to her mom’s condition after years of struggling with her strained and toxic relationship with her mom, and ultimately changed the rest of her life. she stayed the night at (WC’s) one night and after she fell asleep, isa stayed up watching TLC- it was there that she first discovered the TV show ‘hoarding: buried alive’ and realized there was a name for her mother’s infliction- but more importantly, learned that there was help available for her condition

when she went home to excitedly tell her mother that she’d basically discovered a cure, a means to change everything for them... she certainly hadn’t been expecting the reaction that came: her mom, who’d always been so indifferent toward her, so lethargic and uninterested in what she had to say, was suddenly listening very clearly- and she was not happy. isa had never heard her mom scream like that, had never really heard her express any heightened emotion, but it was in that moment at 17 years old, just a few weeks away from her 18th birthday, that she realized what she needed to do. she had no choice but to make plans to leave her mom behind.

the final weeks leading up to the big day she was counting on as a turning point consisted of her cleaning out her own space, little by little, enough that she had somewhere to set up her secondhand laptop and webcam. blowing out the candles on her 18th birthday cake came with wishing for a whole new life, and she was determined to make that for herself by any means necessary.

(TW SEX WORK) isa spent half her 18th year in her room working as a successful camgirl, showing everything but her face, & of course always being careful not to dox herself. she eventually earned enough money to start buying herself nicer clothes, but it didn’t take her long to realize she wanted more from life than just rotting away in her hometown. she bought herself a higher quality webcam to keep making money... and a nice sewing machine, something she’d always dreamed of owning.

all her life she’d been drawing and sketching as a means of escapism, it’d always been therapeutic to her to be creative and conjure up unique designs for outfits in her mind, drawing models in all shapes and sizes to represent her fantasy outfits. but she never felt like a visionary, even though anyone with an eye for fashion who got a look at her work could see that she had the natural talent and potential to be.

isa had been an a straight-A student her whole life despite having almost no support at home from her mother growing up, and with plenty of encouragement from (cousin WC), she plucked up the courage and applied for holloway university, with ivory falls being far enough from her hometown of lisbon, but still in the same state so that she could go and see her mother from time to time (bc although their relationship is quite strained now, she still loves and worries about her)

the next summer she received her acceptance letter at holloway u for the coming fall semester, and the fact that she’d been able to make it into such a prestigious school made her feel so proud of herself that she completely underwent a massive arc of character development; evolving into someone so much more confident. realizing that plenty of people found her desirable as she continued to earn money through cam shows had been part of that transformation, but realizing she was talented enough to get accepted into the fashion design and merchandising program at her dream school had a completely different effect on her.

( TW BODY IMAGE ISSUES ) isa decided that as she entered college, she was no longer going to be the meek, insecure girl constantly playing the role of the doting, loyal fat best friend to the ‘prettier main characters’ she’d always been sidekick to- she told herself that she was the main fucking character in her life from here on, and has spent her entire college experience up to this point just,, navigating as she figures out what that really means to her

still has a terrible underlying tendency to be overly-loyal and a bit obsessive with girls she closely befriends, if she has any kind of jealousy towards them. but ! is a lot more confident than she used to be, and it shows in the way she dresses and carries herself, as well as in her long-term goals (to transfer to FIDM for her final years of university)

( TW ED MENTION ) as a young adult, she’s mostly she’s replaced the compulsion to deal with her body image issues by using food to cope that she had as a teenager... by using sex to cope instead, so she’s definitely a bit promiscuous but does her best to keep that Her Own business

personality-wise she has a massive heart & is loyal to a fault but is also wild AF & loves a good time! never rly dabbled in drugs until she got to college but since then has acquired an interest in trying everything under the sun, even if it’s just one and done. mostly though she just likes to get really drunk & stupid. used to feel like she was constantly living in her cousin’s shadow, & in some ways she still does, but she’s trying hard to make herself believe that she’s reached a place where she won’t be playing second fiddle to anyone, ever again

i’m gonna shut the hell up now & stop pretending i know this character better than i do bc i deadass do not jbhnjss like she’s literally brand new so lemme go head & leave plenty of room for development!

same story as ezra i’ll have a full connections page posted for her soon but in the meantime some ideas i have are: friends, frienemies, ex friends, high school bullies, classmates, old high school friends, people she gets fuckt up with on the reg, people she hooks up with on the reg (any gender, she’s bisexual / biromantic), someone she had a crush on in high school / has pined for from afar maybe?? someone who used to watch her cam shows?? someone she almost kinda dated but Not? someone who she hooked up with while they were dating someone else?? idk that’s what i have for now but there’ll be more where that came from <3 xoxo like this or hmu !

#holloway.intro #this is a hot ass mess #but i'm rly excited to finally play her x

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mxsinistir · 5 years ago

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May I request a Good Omens Gabriel x Human! Reader please?

Pairing: Gabriel x [y/n]

Warnings: n/a besides the fact that the bad writing ™ becomes worse writing ™ towards the end bc it’s 2 am while I’m writing this.

Summary: Freelance London Photographer [y/n] is friends with the bookshop owner Aziraphale, and happens to be sitting in one day when a mysterious stranger enters to have a meeting with her friend. Suspicious, this artist is ready to find out as much as she can about the man.

Word Count: 2390

(tried to keep this gender-neutral but tell me if I screwed this up anywhere bc I probably did)

Hope you enjoy!

***

The first time you met him was whenever you were inside A.Z. Fell & Co., discussing a book you’d just read and returned (since you were aware he despised the permanent purchasing of his collection) over two cups of hot chocolate.

The moment he entered, you were intrigued. You turned your head to watch him saunter in, and some part of you screamed deafeningly that whatever he was, he did not belong here. That was saying something since unusual people were not uncommon in the little London bookshop. You’d known Aziraphale’s eccentric friend Crowley for quite some time now.

“Aziraphale,” His voice was hearty, one you should have taken comfort in hearing. But in addition to his picture-perfect, incredibly fake smile, it set your nerves on end. “May I have a word?” Part of you decided this was your chance to run from the off-setting visitor, but that would leave your friend alone with him.

“Hi, I’m [Y/n],” You shoved a hand into space between you, “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He looked you up and down, your eyes unwavering until he met your stare. His eyes - your stomach flipped, oh god his eyes - bore into yours, and you nearly recoiled when you noticed the color. A glassy purple with no signs of contacts. Just unexplainably rich violet that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

“Gabriel,” He said, shaking your hand with a grip that was just a little too strong. You were too proud to coddle your sore hand, though. “I need a moment with Aziraphale.”

“Sorry, can’t,” You couldn’t leave Aziraphale with him! What if something happened? You’d picked up that Aziraphale had been involved with some sketchy people before, and what if this guy happened to be a well-dressed gang member? Well . . . well dressed wasn’t exactly the way to put it. You didn’t know what look Gabriel was going for, but it just added to his overall wrongness.

Besides, Aziraphale and Crowley had always remarked on your excellent intuition. Warning Aziraphale about bad customers, giving Crowley advice on problems he hadn’t explicitly explained, knowing that both your friends were thinking at a given time - and at this time, Aziraphale felt very, very anxious about Gabriel waltzing into his shop.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” He half-snarled, his fake smile faltering.

“My bike got stolen earlier,” You explained, casually turning to drink the rest of your cocoa before it went cold. You also needed something to hide your growing smile. “I told the police to drop it off here when they found it.”“Are you sure you didn’t miss them during your chat?” He said, “I swore I saw a bike parked in the front.” You stepped past him, putting your nose against Aziraphale’s window. Sure enough, a blue bike was leaned against the glass pane.

“Well, silly me - Guess they just left it and had better things to do.” You laughed, turning back to smile at Aziraphale and Gabriel. “See you later, Zira!”

You walked outside, planning on walking home. You weren’t going to take some random bike from in front of the bookshop just because some guy had snapped and made it appear for you.

You didn’t own a bike.

***

The next morning, before you even had the chance to ask questions about the purple-eyed man, Crowley had come into your studio, mentioning that he was bored, due to Aziraphale’s sudden occupation with work. Aziraphale had never been truly busy since you’d known him.

“Crowley, do you know a Gabriel?” You asked, not looking up from the photo you were currently editing the lighting of, trying to decide if you could amend the conflict between the clashing color palettes. If anything, Crowley just hoped that you were too occupied with your work to even notice that you opened your mouth to ask the question. A few seconds ticked by, and then you stared up at the redhead.

“Yeah, I know him.” He said under his breath, “He’s a friend of Aziraphale’s. Definitely not a friend fo mine. I’d keep your distance.”

“What does he do?” Even without being able to see his eyes through the glasses, you sensed the panic in them as he proceeded to mumble out an answer.

“Paperwork,” He steadied himself, easing into the lie now. “Some company Aziraphale used to work for. I think he’s kind of a jerk, but he and Zira go way back, so I don’t intrude.”

“Funny, I thought the bookshop had been family owned for a hundred years?”

“Part-time job, maybe?” Crowley stammered out. You just rolled your eyes.

“Is Aziraphale in . . . is he in any danger with this guy?”“What? No, no, [Y/n], you’re just being paranoid.” You weren’t so sure. You’d never heard Crowley so nervous about the subject of someone, and you’d certainly never heard of him willing staying out of Aziraphale’s affairs. It was common knowledge that he was the nosiest man in London, especially when it came to his friends. “Seriously, Just stay out of his way and it should be fine.” He had a certain voice he used when he wanted you to believe things were fine, even if they weren’t.

“I’ll just ask Aziraphale since apparently, you won’t explain.” That little taunt was usually enough to make Crowley spill everything. Not for this, apparently. “He listens to you, Crowley. Just make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Just because he didn’t say the promise doesn’t mean she didn’t see him make it.

***

The second time you saw Gabriel wasn’t at the bookshop, but on a bench in St. James’ Park. You were currently looking over some pictures you’d taken of the vibrant area, the photographs dotted with jogging passersby and fluffy ducks that reminded you of Aziraphale. You stood up to walk by, snapping a few more when your camera focused in on a not-quite-familiar face.

“Gabriel,” You said, curiously approaching the benched man. “Fancy seeing you here,”

“[Y/n], is it? Aziraphale’s . . . acquaintance.” Who the hell used the word acquaintance anymore? You thought. “Is there something you need?”

“Just came to clear my eyes - I’ve been staring at this one picture I took for Aziraphale last week.” You briefly explained how one of the customers had split their coffee on one of Aziraphale’s old wall paintings, which he had sat on the table to clean the walls behind it. He had been furious, and though you knew you couldn’t possibly replace the expertly preserved painting - ruined by only human clumsiness - you’d offered to gift a photograph to him. Though he was obviously still disgruntled over the lost air, he did say that even something modern would eventually become history. You’d gotten to work. “I’m supposed to bring it to him this evening.”

“I was planning to speak with him this evening as well, actually.” The man remarked.

“Well, if you wanted, you could com toe hang out at my studio for a while.” You had a feeling that no matter what, this man would try to keep up appearances. Meaning he would accept your offer, even if only not to appear rude. Thanks to some information you’d gotten out of Crowley, you now knew that you wouldn’t be in any real danger as a human inviting him to your studio. He, on the other hand, wouldn’t be expecting the onslaught of questions you had for him.

“That sounds great,” He said with clenched teeth, and so you just smiled and packed up your laptop and camera equipment, making sure to walk beside him all the way back to your flat.

The square footage wasn’t much - you were honestly surprised you could manage to fit two people inside at once. Beyond that, every inch of the place was stacked high with frames and camera equipment and printed portraits. Your bed was usually just the couch by the window, and even then, you more often than not just fell asleep at your work desk, head draped over crossed arms.

“I’m gonna be a little bit - I’ve gotta play with some finishing touches, and then I’ve got to print it.” You explained - Aziraphale had given you a faux-gold 18 x 21 frame, nearly identical to the one bordering the ruined painting. “You can sit on the couch if you still want to hang out. You okay with music?” You asked casually, bringing him a glass of water. You may be suspicious of him, but your mother had always stressed the importance of hospitality.

“Do you like music?” He thought for a moment, staring blankly before nodding as if he’d been assessing whether or not it was the correct response to say so. “Queen?” He looked even more confused but nodded again. You synced your Spotify to a small speaker and set it to shuffle, sliding into your chair as We Are the Champions began to play. You snuck a glance over at Gabriel while mouthing the words and concluded he was possibly the only person in the world who didn’t know the lyrics. If anything, that just confirmed your suspicions of the man.

Gabriel, on the other hand, was just as confused by you as you were by him. When you’d first met, he hadn’t known how to react to you. You’d stood up to him with no background knowledge, purely because you thought he had ill intentions towards your friend. Humans were always willing to throw themselves at things for no reason, but you were different - you had a reason, and that reason was nothing more than intuition to protect those you care about.

And now, you’d carelessly brought him into your apartment - if he could even call it that. It was a glorified storage closet, filled to the brim with art and junk and beauty. He’d never been exposed to such a mess; heaven would have never tolerated it. He couldn’t even imagine that Hell was this chaotically organized.

He could barely focus on that. How could he anymore, when there was you to look at? Smiling truly and losing yourself in the music blaring, snapping your fingers with bad timing, singing the guitar riffs, and constantly standing up just to pace around while mouthing the lyrics.

You walked around him more than a few times, asking him random questions while leaning far back to see what your photo looked like from afar. He eventually saw that it was of an eggshell white duck in St. James, curiously floating alongside a dark goose that had landed in the waters. He could have scoffed at the symbolism, wondering if you understood the irony of it all yourself.

Gabriel had never seen so much life in one plac.e It radiated from you, from your camera, from your fingers. It felt raw and unexplainably human, and not in the way that disgusted him with its mediocrity. There was nothing mediocre about you. You oozed with some sort of high that no angel could ever dream of finding themselves on. Angels were too flawless for something as uncontained as the day-to-day life you lead.

During the middle of one of your lyrical outbursts, you glanced over at Gabriel. He was drinking tea now, staring out into London from your window, sunbeams casting over his dusty hair and stunning eyes. Without a word, you pulled your camera in front of you and stepped towards him, snapping photos of him a quick succession. He whipped around at the sound, just quick enough to see you smiling.

“Stay where you are - the lighting’s amazing.” You said, steadily walking closer to the man. He truly was a vision in an element like this. You leaned back to observe the picture he’d found himself in. “Do you think you could give me one with your wings?”

And just like that, you watched the Archangel Gabriel freeze to the core as you shuttered a few more photographs.

“Come on, everyone knows Aziraphale isn’t human.” And of course, there was no way Crowley could keep a secret like that once he was sufficiently drunk. “And besides, humans don’t usually make this pretty of muses.”

He unfurled his wings gently, being careful not to knock over anything. All three pairs appeared in pristine, white condition, though when the window light scattered them, they reflected a spectrum of glistening violet.

He nearly asked to confirm that you were human, though he knew the answer. No one but a human could accomplish this - a demon nor an angel could live in such harmonious chaos with their own little world, dancing to the raw beauty of it all and flourishing in the flaws you did not perceive as such.

Gabriel had never felt love - a sort of ‘love for all humanity’, of course, but not the thrumming in his heart he felt now, looking at you in your element, high on the artistry of what you saw in him. On what no one else had ever seen in him.

“I could have a photoshoot with you, you know.” You said, looking at your camera screen. “You look great on camera.”

“There’s still a few hours before I need to meet with Aziraphale,” He lied - he was two hours behind schedule, not that that mattered. “He’d told me about this bakery beside his bookshop that he apparently adores.” He didn’t even like food. It didn’t matter - he figured you would.

“Am I being asked out by the Archangel Gabriel?”“That’s strong wording-”“I’m famished,” You smiled, and as you walked over to your computer, he expected you to print and frame your imperfect perfection. Instead, you just saved the photo and eased your computer shut. “I can make something here, though. I don’t want to leave. Does the Archangel Gabriel want to watch a movie?”

He was about to make a snarky comment about your sarcastically calling him that, but he paused as you did the unexpected. You settled down on your couch right next to him and smiled. That was enough for him to decide that his meeting with Aziraphale could wait till morning. To hell with Heaven questioning him - him of all people - being off schedule. He would deal with that in time.

Right now, all that mattered was that he was sharing in on an artist’s high, and he wasn’t ever coming off.

#good omens #good omens gabriel #archangels #archangel gabriel #gabriel good omens #gabriel #good omens x reader #gabriel x reader #goom #i love artists x gabriel #gabriel x human #good omens imagines #gabriel imagines #archangels gabriel imagines

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inexchangeforyoursoul · 4 years ago

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Hey... hey @transhawks ,,, happy afterbirthday :D

(I “finished” something,,, the DabiHawksTwice thing. The one that is spicy. Something that’s positively not for small beans’ eyes, shoo, little ones.) Also it’s one of the v few things I have that are of this nature and the first I’m legit publishing, so sorry if it’s awkward (not a single beta has seen this either asfasfds)

(And to anyone who may not know, this is to go with the art I already have on my blog, but especially the one that I had to put elsewhere bc of the policy lmao: dA tweet) (babies don't click is2g)

Hawks' consciousness phases back bit by bit, blissful oblivion turning into the itch of drying tears in his eyes, the press of warm bodies against his, and the rhythm of their soft panting. The perfect peace after a cascade of wonderful, wonderful feelings, noises and sensations. He could stay like this forever.

"Welcome back, angel," purrs Dabi's gravelly voice next to him; Hawks can feel every vibration underneath him and his fingertips as he lays on top of the man. The golden irises slide into focus and look upwards to meet smoldering blue ones. Another pair of lips brushes against his cheek, tickling his face with the surrounding stubble. He turns to have them press against his in a deep kiss; his holes twitch at the sensation, and even more so at the fingers tugging at his hair. So full… so filled. So whole.

"You are all ours now," the fire user continues as Hawks lays his head back down panting, Twice doing the same on his shoulder while his hand slips back down from the blonde feathery locks to caress both the hero and Dabi's sides. "All mine and Jin's. Nobody else's."

Something blooms in Hawks' chest upon hearing that while Dabi's fingers replace the previous ones and rub into his scalp. Something dangerous, terrifying, awe inspiring, something that cannot be anything else but his heart singing in utter joy.

His sex and anus twitch around the half hard dicks again.

Claimed.

"Really?" Is it really true?

He's been claimed.

Dabi shifts to pull him into a kiss of his own, excessively hot and wet and all kinds of right. Whether he's humming into it in pleasure or as a way of agreement is questionable; perhaps it's the reason why he reiterates upon breaking apart. Twice's arm has slid in meanwhile and is supporting their heads, making sure that they don't lose each other from sight. "Really."

A small, but all the more genuine smile appears on Hawks' exhausted face; this time around, it's his wings that want to flutter, smushed as they are under the comforting weight of Twice. "I'm glad," he squeaks in a small voice, earning him another kiss on the temples as he basks in the sensation warming his chest.

Dabi sighs as the sandwiched bird's hips sway a quiet minute later in an attempt to get him balls deep in again. "Eager for more, aren't you."

"Need you… deeper," Hawks mumbles through a pleased sigh as the blonde behind him accommodates the voiced need to be filled proper and kindly shifts him lower to have Dabi bottom out as well. He could… he can go again.

"Dabi… you ready for round two? I have a couple more in me," Twice says as if reading Hawks’ mind, pulling out halfway only to slam into the hero, making him whimper into the crook of Dabi's neck. Hawks would love to have him fill his heated cunt with his own cum as well, but doesn’t want to waste time with cleaning up, and neither does he want to do something unsanitary. "Need a timeout?"

He’ll also gladly take another load of Twice's up the ass, though. And a clone’s down his throat, if it comes to that.

"As long as you two stop using me as a chaise-longue, I'll be fine," moans Dabi as Hawks pushes himself on shaky elbows (was sex always meant to be so exhilarating?), minding the staples that came loose somewhere down the line, a few of them still bleeding. He can feel stains of fresh rust on him, too.

He sighs a soft “oh dear” and leans back down to kiss and lick the wounds better, relishing the metallic taste he laps up. It satisfies another, entirely different carnal need of his- he can practically feel the invisible shackles inhibiting him snap off by the dozen as his heart starts racing again. Warm, sticky liquid pools around Dabi’s cock inside him as his walls tighten around it once more. The man acknowledges this with a shaky sigh, a tentative hip roll and one of those thigh squeezes that drive Hawks mad for more.

It's then that Twice starts moving to set a slow pace; oh, he’s just so good to him… knows exactly what his body needs. Hawks lifts his ass a little so they can return to the intoxicating rhythm of pounding into the hero in quick turns of never ending pleasure, just like they did a couple minutes ago. The fact that his legs fell asleep in the awkward position and he cannot actually feel them apart from the prickly needles of blood pressing into his veins doesn't bother him in the slightest; the boys can just take the reins if he can't keep up.

He can feel everything that matters, anyway; this includes the piercings of the fire user that are escaping in quick succession until barely more than the head remains.

The eyes of a predator meet a ghastly, pristine sea again. “Your blood is so sweet,” Hawks says with a smile that is way too sharp to be taken lightly. “I could eat you right up,” he clicks away then, impaling himself on the game ready villain with a lewd smack. Just in time for Twice to pull out and ram the monster of a dick he sports back inside, making that pierced wonder escape once more- almost out, but never entirely. The push and pull of bodies, working in wonderful tandem.

“With a look like that in your eyes… I’m certain you would,” grunts Dabi, slamming him down by the thighs himself this time around; it pulls Hawks’ feral grin even wider. “You look as fucking gone as the little freak does when high on blood.”

His initial answer is a trill of a giggle that is stopped by a throaty little moan when Twice hits a sweet spot, bumping him forward into the pyro’s face. "Then you better make sure I can’t move an inch afterwards,” he breathes in an airy voice, then plants a butterfly kiss on Dabi's lips. Not having anything to say, the fire user slams him back down which is much appreciated. Yes, all Hawks wants is this. His brains to be thoroughly fucked out of him. Wants to be bred into an incoherent, twitching mess filled with bodily fluids. Suppose the fact that he is even thinking of such things is proof of them doing a damn good job already. Maybe this round will draw out an even higher note of him as he screams out in orgasm.

The world is already becoming little more than static background noise and he’s beyond excited to find out.

#Kate writes #TouKeiJin #DabiHawksTwice #I ain't tagging anything else fam #I'm certain anyone who's into this knows where to find it #and yes in case I wasn't clear enough this is v much NOT sfw #rina's bday has been framed by my bs.... you're welcome

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ohtheseboysilove · 6 years ago

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The moon, the stars, are nothing without you [ Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 2,500 K +

Warnings : angst, so much angst, it’s only angst, car accident, death, mention of blood

Summary : Reader is involved in a terrible car accident. Her last thoughts are for her husband and their kids.

Note : Don’t hate me please but I’m such in angst mood recently, god. I’m sorry this is just pure sadness, nothing else. I listened to the song Lay me down by Sam Smith during my writting, the feels this man give me, insane. Bruuuh im so sad.

Masterlist & Requests

(im fucking angry bc the spaces I let between the sentences appear on the tumblr website but not on the tumblr app on my phone, this is so ugly grrr, tell me if it show in one block for you ???)

@/ none of these gifs are mine xx

You couldn’t move, your body was out of control. You couldn’t see, your vision was blurred by the shock and the blood flowing from your forehead. You couldn't hear anything except the incessant buzzing echoing through your ears. You were cold, so cold. And exhausted, you eyelids were so heavy suddenly, you tried to fight the sleep but it was useless. You vaguely felt someone touching your face, talking to you but none of these words made any sense. Something cleaned your vision and then you saw it. The taxi where you were few minutes prior, completely and violently crushed. A white sheet covering a body next to it. You saw the horrified faces of the people looking at you, from the other side of the road. You saw the sticky scarlet liquid forming a large puddle around your body, the intense scent of metal made your stomach churned sickly. You could literally feel the blood leaving your frame, the cold and exhaustion replacing the usual warm and energy running through you. You knew what was going on. The inevitable and cruel Grim Reaper was coming for you, the shadow of her black cloak slowly making her way through your vision. You weren’t ready for her, not now, not so soon. You had so much thing you wanted to do. But no one escaped her. You felt a tear rolling on your face, rejoining the drops of blood and you couldn’t make the difference between them. Then another one, again and again. You cried, desperately and painfully, the agonising wait was breaking your heart. You coughed weakly, feeling blood escaping your mouth and you knew it wasn’t a good sign at all. It was the end of the road for you and you cried even harder. Not because you were dying, no. Because you thought of all the peoples you let behind you.

Roger, your amazing husband. Your two beautiful daughters. Your newborn son, he was so young...You were abandoning them.

You slowly felt your eyes closed and your last moment with your family came to your mind, your last thought were for them.

“Roger, are you sure you can handle the kids alone ?” You asked a bit hesitant. Roger was a wonderful father but three whole days just him and your three kids...you were worried. “I can come back tomorrow morning if–“

You should have stay,

“Darling, relax” Your husband pressed a kiss on your cheek with a cocky smile. “You had the kids all by yourself for the last three months when I was away, touring” He intertwined your fingers and pressed them in a reassuring gesture. “You deserved your spa weekend, alright ? We gonna be fine, I can do it honey.”

They’re gonna be fine, Roger promised you,

You smiled fondly and nodded eagerly. “I know you can do it Rog, you’re the best dad” You looked at the little bundle in his arms, your six months baby boy was tugging on his father’s necklace with his tiny fists which completely melted your heart. “And the best husband too” You gave him a sweet kiss, his hand gently rubbing your tense neck.

If only you had know it was your last time in his arms…

“You damn right, I am !” He grinned and took your bag in his hand walking toward the door. “Come on, I don’t want to see your pretty ass back here until you’re completely relaxed” You pouted and peppered your son’s face with small kisses. “Girls ! Come say goodbye to Mommy !”

If you had know you would never see their pretty faces again...

You gave a tight hugs to your daughters and swallowed nervously, you never had been away from your last born for so long, your heart sank in your chest as you already missed your little family.

And you will never stop missing them,

“I bought some infant milk if mine isn’t enough for the weekend so you should be fine” Roger rubbed his palm on your cheek, listening to you with a sweet smile. “You still got the list with all the important numbers on it, right ?”

It should have been enough until your return...but you would never come back,

“Yes, darling. I even got the spa number, I will call you everyday, me and the kids, telling all about our exciting adventures.

The phone will ring but you wouldn’t answer it,

“Don’t forget our little angle can’t sleep without his green blanket, the one with–“

The smell of your newborn baby still lingered in your nose,

“The one with a turtle on it, I know honey” He cut you with a quick kiss on your mouth.

The taste of Roger’s lips was drowning under the metallic one,

“And please brush the girls’ hairs or they gonna have horrible knots the day after and it’s really a nightmare to deal with” You rambled for few more minutes about everything you could think of, “Do we got enough nappy? I should check just to be sure–“

You would never braid the beautiful hairs of your amazing girls,

“Darling, breath” He chuckled gently and rubbed his nose against yours, his large hand caressing your waist, making sure he didn’t crush the little one still in his arms. “I promise you, I can handle it. And when you come back, we’re gonna call the travel agency and set up holidays somewhere were they put little umbrella in our cocktails, just you and me. No kids and no clothes on.” He winked and you blushed slightly. After all these years this cocky bastard could still make your cheeks burned easily.

You could still feel the warm of his hand on your waist,

“Can we go back to the house you rented for our honeymoon ? I swear this is the paradise on earth” You hummed happily against his lips.

You were breaking your promise to renew your wedding vows every five years,

“Hot weather and sandy beach, babe, I’m definitively in” You both chuckled, memories of the two weeks you spent there few years ago, you certainly had a good time. “We could even try for a baby number four, hmm ?”He rubbed your empty stomach with a cheeky smile.

Of course you would have carry his baby,

“In your dream, Taylor. Three kids is enough” You replied as you shook your head, an amused grin on your lips.

But he would never know you weren’t serious when you said no,

“Alright, if you say so” He rolled his eyes dramatically and pushed you to the door, “Now go, your taxi is probably here”

This stupid taxi, you should have take your own car,

“Alright, I love you” You gave a deep and loving kiss to your incredible husband and the twins made a disgusting noises, Roger shushed them away with a laugh.

Roger’s wonderful laugh resonating one more time in your ears,

“We love you, darling. See you in three days” The blond smiled widely and waved a little goodbye with the tiny hand of your son.

I love you too my loves, so much,

You blew them a kiss and finally get out the house, ready for three relaxing days, your heart beating heavily in your chest. You knew Roger and the kids will be fine.

Roger and the kids will be fine but for you it was over.

Roger didn’t answer the phone call from the hospital that night, he was trying to put the terrible twins in bed, so they called your second emergency contact, Freddie, your best friend. Sadly, he was the one who had to rang Roger, multiple times, until he answered, annoyed :

“What ?” He sighed at his friend and band mate’s voice, “Freddie I’m trying to put the girls–“

“Roger, I’m at the hospital, you need to come here immediately” The blond felt his heart sank at the broken voice of his friend, he was always the cheerful one.

“Are you okay ? What’s going on ? Are you hurt Fred ?”

“It’s not about me...it’s (Y/N)” He swallowed loudly, trying to repress the sobs growing inside him. “Please, I can’t do that through the phone, come to the hospital.

Roger froze at your name, fear shaking his body from the head to the toes.

“Freddie, tell me what’s going on ? Give the phone to (Y/N), I want to speak to her” He was freaking out, Freddie wasn’t clear about what was wrong with his other half and couldn’t believe something happen to you, not you.

“Roger, called a fucking cab and come here, Brian and John are on there way too” Freddie let a choking sob escaping his mouth, he knew their lives will never be the same.

“I want to speak to my wife Freddie !” He yelled through the phone, his eyes watering dangerously as the idea of something terrible happened to you.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with uncle Fred ?” Roger repressed a sob at the sight of his daughters, worry painting of their pretty faces.

“I’m coming Freddie” He hanged the phone with a shaky hand. “Uncle Freddie is fine but we need to go to the hospital girls, now.” He walked to his son bedroom and put his sleepy frame in his travel seat, attaching it carefully then they all went to the entrance of the house, the girls following quietly. They knew something was wrong.

“Why are we going to the hospital ? Is Mommy okay ?”

Roger closed his eyes at his daughter’s question then breath quietly, “I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t know”

The hallway of the hospital was endless and he finally reached the desk to ask about his wife, he heard Brian’s voice from behind :

“Rog” He was crying silently, his face broken in a devastated grimace.

Roger walked to him, his face pale and devoured by the worry.

“Where she is ?” John and Freddie joined them, both of their faces wet and sorrowful. “Tell me what’s going on, please” Roger whispered with a broken voice, thinking at the worst possibility.

“Hey girls, would come with me and have a little snack with us ?” Veronica gently asked, a little bit off but the twins immediately nodded, she gently took the seat with the sleepy baby inside and left toward the waiting room.

It was only Roger, Freddie, John and Brian. None of them wanted to talk, breaking the sad new to their brother.

“The taxi was driving too fast, he lost the control of the car, you know with all the rain” Freddie murmured slowly, pressing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “He couldn’t avoid the truck coming from the other way. They tried to save (Y/N) but...they couldn’t”

“I’m so sorry Roger” John whispered to his friend and wiped the tears on his face, he wasn’t the time for that, Roger needed their help.

“Is she dead ?” The drummer didn’t recognised his weak voice. “(Y/N) is dead ?” He breathed heavily as the information slowly processed to his brain.

“Yes” Brian chocked and immediately caught Roger as his knees gave up under the weight of this simple word.

He hugged tightly his brother, apologising between painful sobs. The blond broke down in his arms, crying from the bottom of his soul, the grief burning a hole in his chest. He couldn’t believe you were dead. You were supposed to live so many more years, watching your kids grow up, graduate, have their first love, grow old with Roger in this cute little house in the deep english countryside that both of you wanted to buy for your old days...He couldn’t face the life without you by side. You were his whole world and now you were gone.

Roger asked to see you, the boys walked him to your hospital bed where you were laying, pale and lifeless. He didn’t recognise you at first, the rough bruises and concussions hiding your usual pretty face but he knew it was you. Your chipped nail polish that you asked him a million time to do and your beautiful wedding ring were still there, attesting of the truth of the devastating situation. It was you.

Roger grabbed your body, you seemed so thin and small in his arms, and he enveloped you in a last embrace, clutching to you desperately as the stream of tears kept falling in his cheeks. The boys gave him some intimacy for the goodbye, heartbreaking and infinitely unfair. When it was time to leave after like it seemed just a minute for Roger, John gently rubbed his back, telling him his children were reclaiming him, they wanted their dad.

“I love you baby, so much. And I’m going to miss you until the day I die” He took a deep breath, begging himself to stop crying. Your children needed him and you would be so mad if he wasn’t here for them. “I know we will meet again my angel, if it’s not in this life, it will be in another one, I promise you”

The drummer reluctantly pressed a last kiss on your cold lips and let you go.

Roger and the children went to Freddy’s place for the night, at least. He didn’t tell the girls yet, he didn’t know how. Nothing never prepared him to announce to his six years old twins that their mom was gone, absolutely nothing. He will do it tomorrow, he hadn’t the strength right now. Freddie nicely put himself the girls in bed and left the baby with Rog, sleeping peacefully next to him. His gaze drifted in the room, even if he was exhausted he couldn’t sleep, not with this pain crushing his heart. His eyes fell on a little paper on the floor, right under his coat. He stoop up quickly, knowing immediately what it was. He grabbed the note and chocked a sob when he recognised your handwriting. You used to put little post-it in the house or in his pockets with sweet words on it, telling you loved him or to break a leg for his gig. You must have put in this morning before you left for your weekend. He rubbed his glassy eyes and read the note :

I hope you and the kids gonna have fun this weekend, please don’t burn the house when I’m away ! If you do, don’t forget to rescue our photo albums !

Ps : I’m kidding my love, I know you will rock it with our kids, your the best dad and husband I could wish for (even if you pretend to snore when the baby wake up in the middle of the night...yes I know, you’re an awful actor, stick to the drumming !)

I love you and I see you on monday xx

A noise between a sob and a laugh escaped Roger’s throat, a sad smile painting his tired features, even in the worst situation you could still make him smile.

“I love you too my pretty girl” He whispered, holding the note tightly against his pulsating chest, right above his broken heart. “So much”

#roger taylor x reader #ben hardy!roger x reader #queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #roger taylor

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thewondersofsmut · 6 years ago

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Belonging

Request: So I know you write for both Tvd and spn. Which is great btw I can't seem to find enough fic writers who do both. But I was wondering, and I feel really bad for asking you this bc I already sent in a request and I'm sure your probs really busy so don't feel pressured, if you would be able to do like a crossover one shot where the reader is Elena's twin sister and she leaves town bc she's tired of never being the one or something and she meets the Winchester and can be a Sam or Dean pairing idc – @artsyicon

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: language, angst

Word Count: 1406

I took a long time to finish this but I really enjoyed writing this!

Feedback, comments, or anything is appreciated!

Want to get tagged in my stories? Join the tag list!

(gifs not mine, credits to the owners)

You dyed your hair blonde, you did't have the same eye color, you were pretty much almost opposite of Elena, your twin and yet all eyes are on her, her and only her. And that made you snap, you sat on the couch, listening to how to protect your twin from Klaus. "Oh my fucking god! Can you all shut up?!" You exclaimed. Everyone's eyes turned to you. "You all wanna know what's so fucked up? She may be the doppelgänger but didn't it occur to you narrow headed people that Elena and I share the same blood?! But hey, Klaus could be stupid to think that he can also use my blood but yeah, lets just protect the one who looks like her after all I could just be his blood bag." You said and stormed up to your room. Everyone fell silent. Damon and Stefan frowned as they heard you pack. Stefan turned to Elena but before he could speak, you were dragging two bags down the stairs.

Damon sped up to the door to stop you. "You're not going anywhere, princess." He said. "Get out of my way, Damon." You glared at him. "You are not going anywhere–" "Let her go." Elena said, with her I'm-30-minutes-older-than-you voice. "What?" Damon knitted his eyebrows. "You heard her, let. me. go." You said and the great mysterious Damon got intimidated with your tone. He stepped to the side and you got in your crappy car, shut it, and drove. You drove endlessly towards the west and after a week of deciding whether this was the place to stop, you finally felt it. The town sign Grants Pass went into view and you stopped at a nearby diner. Before you can exit your car, you saw two men approaching and you held the wooden stake that was conveniently in your car.

You rolled down the window and the shorter one leaned down. "Is there anything I can help you with?" He asked. "I just got into town, I'm not looking for any trouble." You replied with a smile. "It's not really safe here, you better go." He said. You felt droplets of water into your arm and you looked at him and he was holding a small vial. "Excuse me, your water is dripping. And where I'm from, it's much dangerous." You said and eyed his hand. "She's good, Sam." You heard him yell from across. "How so?" He asked. "You know what, I'll tell you over coffee?" You offered and he looked weary. "It's really not safe to be here." He said. "I think I can handle myself." You said. You got out of the car but before you can make a step, a person rushed to you and bared his– fangs? "Oh are you fucking kidding me?!" You said as both guys shielded you from them.

That vampire put up a fight with the two guys and might as well help them you thought, you grabbed your stake and when the coast was clear you went ahead and stabbed that monster in the heart. The men looked at you, shocked but with the upper hand they got, they decapitated the vampire. "Um..." You started. "Are you a hunter?" The taller guy asked. "No? Kinda? Why didn't that thing like die when I staked it?" You asked. "Cuz they're... weird." The shorter guy replied. "I had to deal with vampire and I left and they're fucking everywhere." You tone was scary. "We gotta go." You looked towards your car only to find it smoking. "Ugh!" You screamed. You were on the verge of a panic attack but the shorter guy grabbed you into his arm as the other grabbed your bags from your car. You followed them to their car and you sat in the back.

"What's your name?" The taller guy asked. "(Y/n)." You replied fiddling with the bloodied stake. "My name is Sam and this my brother, Dean." He said and Dean raised his eyebrows at you. "Where are you from?" "Mystic Falls, Virginia." You answered. "You drove all the way here?" Dean asked. "Yeah." "Why?" You sighed. "I have twin who is more special than me I guess and theres this Original, one of the first vampires created is looking for my sister and she dating this vampire who has a vampire brother who's in love with her. It's all doppelgänger shit. All too messy." You explained. "Don't worry sweetheart, we handle messy too." Dean replied. "What made you drive all the way here?" Sam asked. "I didn't feel like stopping. Each place I end up in felt empty and the one place that made me want to hop off was a total wreck." You answered.

A complete silence surrounded you all as Dean drove. "You can stay with us." Dean said out of nowhere. You and Sam looked at him like he was crazy. "You trust me enough to let me go with you? I mean, I just need to hop off to a safer place, find a car, and let you two go on your merry ride." You said, shrugging. Sam and Dean conversed with their eyes and mutter and you waited for a reply. Sam looked behind to you with a smile. "We'll gladly let you stay with us, we just gotta make sure you're –not like them." He said and you smiled. "I'm grateful for your offer but I don't wanna be a burden..." You said. "I don't think you'll be, sweetheart." Dean said, meeting your eyes through the rear view mirror.

You aimed, an eye slightly closing and you took your shot. You smiled, putting the gun down. "Nice shot, sweetheart." Dean mused looking at your 1/8th an inch inside the bullseye shot. "The best one I've done so far." You commented with a chuckle looking at your low precision. "Well, I think you can handle a dagger?" He asked. "Yeah? I think I can." You replied. "Back where I'm from, those types of vampires die with a wooden stake to the heart." You added. He raised his eyebrows with a slight frown and nodded. "Huh, guess there's many types of vamps." He said and you shrugged.

"Well, are you ready to go on the supply run?" He asked. "Sam coming?" You asked and you'd be lying if you didn't see a hint of hurt on his face. "Nah, said he wanted to stay to read the lores." He said. "Nerd." You muttered making Dean chuckle. "Well, let me get the list of what we need, 'kay?" You asked and he nodded, watching you intently as you walked away from him. You also would be lying if you didn't feel his gaze burning a hole through your shorts.

"Have fun!" Sam called out as you and Dean made way to the garage. You shook your head smiling, Sam had seen the connection you two had from the very first time you met. Dean have had this instinct to protect you when you thought no one would ever do, not the like the people you thought were your family.

"Hey, before you want to go to the store, want to grab some pie or something at the diner?" He asked, turning to you as you drove on the stretch of highway. You tilted your head to the side. "Are –are you asking me on a date, Winchester?" You asked. You sounded confident but inside, you were dying. His cheek turned a tinge of pink but hid it well with a smirk. "Dean, you remember the first night we met?" You asked, feeling suddenly shy.

"Yeah."

"I've stayed with you two for 3 years and despite the messy hunting life and demons and angels shit, I've never felt at home like I do this past years. And funny thing is, I feel most at home when you and I are together, like this or the at the gun range. I know I sound super sappy–" The car veered to the side and just as quick as lightning, Dean turned to you, hand softly cupping your cheek, his lips crushing against your like magnets.

Your initial shock was replaced with a sigh of relief.

You molded your lips with his and soon enough, you needed to breathe. "Funny thing is, that's exactly how I've felt with you." He replied, copying your words. "I'll take that pie and ice cream offer."

Tags

@sallyp-53 @andkatiethings @kpoplover1306xdepressedgirl315

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x readear #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #spn fluff #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester one shot #dean fanfic #dean one shot #spn fanfic #tvd fanfic #tvd angst #the vampire diaries #supernatural

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numberonephanboy-blog · 7 years ago

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Saved by a Stray pt. 1

(Reposting bc i fixed some of the mistakes)

Warnings: uhh pre smut ig (but not until the end). Mentions of fighting. My horrendous grammar.

It gets better a you go on, I just suck at starts.

Dan’s P.O.V

I know this is beyond cheesy and cliché, but Phil and I are secret agents. We’re part of this really special unit from our faction that was formed in the after math of the worlds destruction. And when together we’re one of the best working teams out there. Finding partner, in the post-apocalyptic state that we call the world, is next to impossible. So Phil and I have a pact, as long as feelings aren’t involved, we can get each other off from time to time. Our friend Chris is currently in trouble and all I can think about the past three days is trading myself for his release. Which brings us to our current situation.

A bear of a man approached me and offered me a cup of beer. Well, what was considered beer. I said my thanks even though I knew fully well I wouldn’t be drinking it. Can’t be alert with this slush running through your veins.

“Can’t have the good hero boy feeling left out on the beer,” he said with a grin. He had at least six long scars across his face, making him appear far more menacing.

Thank you.“ I said again.

“No prob. Hey I saw your fight the last time you were in this area. Not that you could call it one. You were too hard core for it to be fair. But, man I was blown away. Never seen anything like it.” he peered at me from under a thick fan of lashes. /Ew/ I thought to myself. “So…how do you do it? Do you have like a special trick or move? There has to be some secret to that nimble body of yours.”

I suppress the need to cringe inwardly. “It’s just something I do, special training I guess, good reflexes.”

“Well, you should think about getting in the pit tonight. We’ve been talking about you, and the guys that missed it will do just anything for the chance to watch you work.”

The pit. In this faction most of the agents are all hyped and vamped to get in the pit and test each others strengths. The one and only time I was in the pit, I took every single person that was thrown at me. That night I wasn’t thinking clearly and needed a quick way to blow off some stream. “Maybe another time,” I said. To me, fighting was a business-a privilege-not a sport.

Phil appeared at my side, glaring at the man who then, holding up his hands, backed off. Phil took my arm and pulled me away.

“We found out what Hodad means,” he said the moment we were alone. All the reprimand I was about to say suddenly died out.

“Well? Tell me.” I demanded.

Taking the cup of beer from my hands he says, “Hands of death and destruction.”

Oh….well fuck.

“Chase’s men also found out where Dr. Sans Cœur has been hiding” he adds. “They’re sending a team to bring him here. He might be able to tell us where chris is being kept.”

“You’re not going?” I asked.

“I delegated. Come on.” He led me out of the building and across the cold, barren field.

“Where are we going?”

“The safe house.” he replies easily.

Alone? For a lecture…or something else?

He led me to a small, dark, painted house with a password on the door. After punching in the code, we walked in together. The room is darkly lit with a big hand-knitted rug in front of a fireplace. The walls are painted where there used to be blank drywall.

“It’s been furnished,” I say surprised.

“Only this room.” He says while building a fire. “ look, I know you and I know you’re thinking it’ll be okay for you to trade yourself for Chris.”

Lecture. Great. I got comfortable on the rug.

“But it’s not okay. Not now, not later. And don’t even think about arguing. I lead our group mission. Hence, I lead you. I make the decisions, and you do what I say.”

This is the same Phil right? Not a replacement clone? “The only reason I’m not knocking you to your knees and making you beg for mercy right now is because I know you’re speaking from a place of deep concern for me. But, Phil? You are seriously irritating the shit out of me.”

He sat down in front of me. I yanked at the collar of his shirt and let the material snap back into place.

“You’re either my best friend or my boss,” I said. “You can’t be both. Pick one.”

He scooted closer to me so close I basically had to straddle his lap to remain upright. Big hardship. His chest brushed against mine, and whether accidental or intentional, it sent a thrill through my entire body.

“Boss then.” He says coolly.

As different, emotions played havoc with my heartbeat, the scent of strawberries teased me.“Best case scenario, I don’t have to trade myself and Dr. Sans Cœur will think I’m willing. And yea he’ll try to double cross us like we’re doing to him, but you’re acting like we don’t have a chance.” I try hiding my breathlessness as he runs a hand down the knoches in my spine. “There’s a chance I can save our friend.”

“A chance you could be tortured or killed.” He says with conflicting emotions.

We’re getting dangerously close to that line that we weren’t supposed to cross. So in attempts to getting us off that path I tighten my grip on him. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” I sigh.

“Fine, just don’t go being a hero. Yea we’re good guys and we fight for what’s right, but I’m in charge and we need to do things my way.” He says, pulling my body closer.

“Agreed. As long as your way is my way.”

“You’re right, let’s for get this for now. I have a better use for your mouth.”

“Way ahead of you.” I chime in before connecting out lips. I place my hand on his shoulders and push him down into the rug, but he’s quick to roll us over.

This is always my favorite part. Fighting for whose on top. Phil wins almost every time, but not because he stronger than me, its because somewhere inside myself, I know I like having his weight pressing down on me.

He’s fast as he takes my hands and pins them down, having learned I’d use them to flip us back around. He smile down at me wickedly before diving back in for a rough kiss. I kiss back with just as much enthusiasm.

“Is this you’re way of distracting me?” I ask, making sure my voice is extra breathy. I press my body up against his. “It’s working.” I then quickly take advantage of him thinking that he’d won already and flip us over. My hands now trapped his, my legs still wrapped around his waist.

“Mmm,” I sigh happily. “It’s been weeks since we’ve done this.”

“What?” He responds with another wicked smile, “Laying here…talking?”

I rock my hips against his, “you know what I mean…kissing.” I place hot kisses to his jaw, “Touching…” I run my hands up his sides and over his chest. “Everything.” I say actually breathless. He flips us around for a final time.

“Dan.” He groans.

Alright well needless to say, we fucked. Again. For I’m not even sure what time, we’ve done it so much, but anyway, i’m running out of time for this journal entry thing so I’ll leave it here for now.

-DH

A/N Hi so I’m Toby and this is my first time writing and posting a fic i’m hella scared to be perfectly honest but whatever. This was heavily inspired by a book I read like 4 years ago. If you have suggestions or want me to continue with this let me know. Thanks guys :)

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic #phandom #dan and phil #saved by a stray

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toynbeees · 7 years ago

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idk i felt like doing a breakdown of how I imagine post-game wendigo!josh in a saved AU since im back into until dawn again lmao. bear with me bc im super tired and only like half coherent but im trying

Appearance Okay so we all know wendi!Josh has that gross torn open mouth & sexy sharp teeth. Blind eye? Weird second white eyelid like reptiles have? But yeah these are my hc on wendi!Josh’s appearance.

-His ripped up jaw looks like a really extreme Chelsea/Glasgow Smile that’s torn up mid way to his ear with a couple of extra gashes spreading towards his eye. It looks super gnarly and painful but actually, it’s just a by-product of his jaw stretching to accommodate the extra teeth. The extra gashes heal up and yeah, he’s left with a stretched mouth that exposes half the inside of his mouth and makes Heath Ledger’s Joker look like a harmless cartoon character. It’s basically how his jaw is supposed to be in order to adapt to the fangs, though. The fangs themselves have entirely replaced all of his regular human teeth, not just the gross side, but they’re smaller and flatter on his “human” side - his wendigo side is filled with razor sharp teeth that stick out at odd angles since his mouth hasn’t really stretched enough to fit them. He can’t close his mouth great because of it and the teeth dig into his lower lip if he tries. Later on, he probably gets them filed down as best he can - which still leaves them too big for his mouth and peeking through, but at least they’re blunter and not quite so huge. Surgeons can’t do much for his mouth, though, as the skin around there is too tough to stitch/graft and anyway, the stretched gash is kind of needed in order for his teeth to fit, filed or not.

-his nails are also super sharp and talon-like, thick curled claws. They’re darker than regular nails too, almost black, making them look pretty fucking creepy. They’re tough, designed for ripping apart prey and skinning them, which means he has to be suuuuper careful when touching anything fragile. He files them down, which takes a fucking age because they’re so tough, but it helps make them not quite so dangerous.

-he isn’t actually blind, though the milky eye on the wendigo side suggests he should be. Wendigo eyes are just pale, like the rest of them, and although Josh’s sight isn’t as good as it used to be he isn’t completely blind. His sight is fuzzier than it used to be, designed for detecting movement than noticing details - but since he isn’t fully transformed he doesn’t have total “wendigo sight”, which is good. They do kind of glow in the dark though, like reflective lights. The eye on his human side is a little messed up too; his eyelid is damaged and kind of receded back which makes it look wider than his other eye. Maybe he clawed at it, trying to stop hallucinations or maybe it happened when Hannah dragged him away. His white eye is corrected with coloured contacts, nice and easy. His receded eyelid is fixed with surgery, leaving him with a small scar but it heals to almost nothing.

-although Josh isn’t totally wendigo, his body has started to elongate - mostly his limbs, though torso too. He went from five-foot-something (5′7 if we’re talking Rami’s height) to well over six foot. He’s... mostly in proportion still at least, except for the fact he’s a lot thinner and more spindly than he was before. This fingers are elongated too, more emphasized by the claws.

-I like the idea that Josh grows antlers just for the hilarity of it. Something slender like a chital deer maybe, but much smaller. He grows them in early spring (April-ish) and sheds them once summer starts to cool down in August-September.

Voice His wendigo transformation isn’t just physical! His voice is drastically different though still vaguely Josh-like, but there’s a lot of new and very weird quirks in his voice he didn’t have before.

-Josh’s voice is a lot raspier than it was, deep and gritty like a long time smoker with a slight, growly undertone that’s present even when he tries to be soft. It basically sounds like someone who’s started to lose their voice, but permanent. Actually speaking seems more difficult for him now, and his words are either too slow in concentration or come out all at once in a rush if he’s panicking. There’s no middle ground.

-when Josh is excited or happy, he makes these high pitched trills and chittering sounds that sound almost like a bird if not for the eerie humanness to them. A lot of the time these noises happen completely of their own accord, a kind of subconscious thing he doesn’t pay much attention to. He makes deeper, slower versions of these noises when he’s quietly content; for example if he’s about to fall asleep or curled up comfortably on the sofa.

-when he’s angry or startled, though, Josh makes loud, inhuman screeches that really sound like something out of a horror movie. They’re shrill, loud and if people aren’t expecting it, it can give quite a scare. It’s something he always apologises profusely for after but like when people get a fright and scream, he can’t help it.

-growling is also a common thing, usually when he’s pissed off - or, occasionally, using it as a warning. Josh will duck low when he does this, adopting a defensive stance, hands resting on the floor and letting a deep growl low in his throat. This is one of those things that is completely intentional, an intimidation tactic, and usually one that works.

-his laugh isn’t much of a laugh any more - it’s more of a raspy coughing sound that’s sometimes interrupted by shrieks, like when a person snorts. Since laughing isn’t something people can really control there’s not much he can do to try and change it, but sometimes he tries to make his laugh more human. It usually ends up a creepy mess of wendigo and human.

Habits The wendigo in him makes Josh a little less... human in his actions. Everything has a vaguely creepy, uncanney valley feel about it now, mostly caused by his appearance but partially because some of the stuff he does is just damn weird

-Josh was pretty tactile before; no sense of personal space. It's even more obvious now and he seems to seek out physical contact a lot for comfort. Wendigos aren't social creatures so while his ways of showing affection aren't too human, the reasons for it certainly are. His favourite thing is to nuzzle into the crook of someone's neck and, if they're sitting, curl his limbs around them as if they're a human sized pillow. This is usually accompanied by the weird chittering sounds he makes.

-like all wendigos Josh can imitate people perfectly, which is pretty fucking cool. He can mimic anyone as long as he hears themsay the words, but if he knows a voice well enough he can mimic it without needing to hear something first. He often mimics by accident - if someone asks him a question and he's thinking it over, if he doesn't understand something or even if he just isn't paying attention to his words. It’s fun to use it to mess with people too, though.

-while his ceiling hanging skills aren't much on a full wendigo, Josh can scale pretty much any surface and cling to it for a while. His claws dig into the surface, fingers padded with a rough texture for extra grip. To make it easier to climb, Josh's elongated limbs a d torso are super flexible. He can hang from a ceiling if he really wants, but that will probably end in him falling face first to the floor.

-he doesn't blink as much now, which gives the impression he's staring at people or off in a daydream. It's extra creepy without the contacts, white eye on show. It's a tactic wendigos use to keep track of prey, so they don't lose sight of their food, but since Josh doesn't need to hunt it's just that he forgets blinking is a thing he should do.

Eating Human food is still essential since he's mostly human. That hasn't changed - except now he needs extra nutrition too.

-Josh eats a lot more meat than he used to. Doesn't matter what cut or what animal - as long as it's raw he's good. He can eat it cooked - and if he's eating a regular meal it will be - but raw meat and animal blood are a big part of his diet now. Wendigos are pure carnivores so it makes sense he has similar eating habits.

-of course, since munching on a human corpse, regular animal meat isn't what he really craves. He only ate one bite down in the mines but it was enough to start some serious cravings for chowing down on a hunk of human being. The raw meat helps these cravings, but that doesn't mean they're totally gone. It's something Josh angsts about a lot.

Sleeping Of course turning half wendigo fucked up his sleeping pattern. Sleeping pills help, the rest he has to deal with alone. Sharing a bed with someone else helps.

-wendigos are nocturnal, sensitive to sunlight and vision suited to the dark. Josh is stuck half way between, sleepy during the day but unable to sleep at night. It's like his body is nocturnal but his mind isn't. On the bright it's like he has an internal clock that always lets him know the time of day. Unfortunately it also means he's exhausted half the time. This is later helped with sleep meds, iron pills to supplement what he doesn't get from blood and short naps in the afternoon.

-rather than sleeping on a bed with covers/duvets, Josh loves sleeping in a kind of nest. Bed, sofa or floor - it doesn't matter as long as he has a pile of cushions and blankets. Living on a snow covered mountain he was used to freezing conditions with lots of layers to stay warm. It's unclear whether this is a trait he shares with wendigos or simply the result of having to make do in the mines and the subsequent recovery.

#headcanons #until dawn #josh washington #wendigo!josh

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robpalmertravels-blog · 5 years ago

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Turkey Part 1 - Istanbul - Antalya

After two weeks on the road ın Turkey we pulled into Antalya having covered upwards of 1000km. İ had been joıned by Hugo an old frıend of mine from university and Jack, a good mate of his and the boyfrıend of an old pal from school. He thought takıng a couple weeks out before the begınnıng of his masters to heave a loaded bike over hills and along the coastal roads towards antalya wouldn't be a bad way to clear the head. Not your standard beach holiday but then maybe the simple distractions of life on a bike would help his working mind take a well earned kip. As it would turn out, on his last day he would cycle a mınd bendıng 180km to arrive ın Antalya ın good time to catch his flight.

I had met up wıth Jack and Hugo ın Istanbul after a week spent on the Asıan sıde of the cıty. Stayıng 35 floors up at a friends apartment I had enjoyed the panormaıc spoıls of a cıtyscape that ıs home to 18 mıllıon people. Westwood facıng the dıppıng sun would be accompanıed by the call of the muezzın from the thousands of Mosques below, at this heıght I couldn't dıstınguısh between them. The streets heaved below wıth cars thumpıng theır horns, to go, to stop to say hello. Mopeds zıpped ın between them, motorbıkes too. Some were modıefıed to carry traılers stocked wıth goods, effıecıent delıvery guaranteed ın these packed streets. Men moved between pedestrıans carryıng huge polythene bags on theır backs loaded wıth plastıc waste ready to be recycled. Sıde walks crammed under the neon lıghts wıth markets of every varıety. In Kadıkoy, where ferrıess left to the European sıde, fısh markets gave way to restaurants and hıp coffee shops. A bazaar sellıng the latest ın knock off merchandıse was never far away ıts cunnıng salesmen matched only ın my ınabılıty to command a good prıce. Even wıth the token dıscount I would always leave feelıng rıpped off.

Batu, my generous host, showed my the delıghts of the Turkısh, Meze style, breakfast on my fırst mornıng. Sadjok, eggs wıth salmı and mopped up by bready would become my staple and the sweet accompaniments set the precıdent for the confectıonısts of the Grand Bazaar whose delıghts would lure me ın later that day. Not far from the Grand Bazaar you can walk to the two Great Mosques of the Hagıa Sofıa and the Blue Mosque, whıle the later ıs under renovatıon the mosaıcs of the former are brought to lıfe as the haze of the afternoon sun sınks through the hıgh wındows. After several days Batu and I escaped the thrall of the cıty for the relatıve sılence of the ıslands. Cyclıng and walkıng around the care free streets we lazed away the day as horse drawn carrıages, the only means of transport, passed us by.

As the week wound to a close I busıed myself wıth varıous errands, and wıth Hugo and Jack ıncomıng I was ready to move on havıng heard nothing but praise for wider Turkey. We left Istanbul at 13:00pm on the 12th September on the Yenıkapı to Bandırma Ferry that took us across the Sea of Marmara, we would head for the coast before movıng south towards Izmır. Thırty kılometers and we spıed a patch of gazıng land alongsıde a lake. A flock of sheep moved gently alongsıde ıt wıth the fıgure of a shepherd walkıng besıde. The turks are a frıendly people so I dıdnt hesıtate to approach. As I dıd, three dogs, one omınously ımposıng, bared my way. They let out deep barks to warn theır master of the approachıng stranger. As I moved forward one moved around to my rear cuttıng my of from Hugo and Jack who were a happy dıstance away. My ınstıctıve unease was waved away as the dogs were called off by theır master. Transformed to puppıes taıles wagged and the path forward opened up. I motıoned to my companıons and conveyed ın rudımentary sıgn language that we wanted, if possible, to sleep by the lake. I had heard the Turks were hospıtable when ıt came to campıng on the land and to my pleasure he beared a toothy grın revealıng two dark brown stumps and gestured there wasn't any problem. Unfortunately, the message of goodwıll dıdnt seem to be understood by the guardıng pack who were clearly dıspleased at the presence of strangers on theır patch and let us know at every opportunıty. Probably faır enough when you see Hugos lycra number.

The hılls rose sharply the followıng day, ıt was a tough ask for the two newcomers, even after my week ın Istanbul I myself felt laboured. Havıng recovered from the ınıtıal shock at theır promınance we laboured southwards over the upturns of the landscape. We passed fıelds of red peppers beıng pıcked by hand. Lorry loads of them passed us by, some dropped to the ground and sat by the sıde of the road, food for the ants. Wıth the afternoon playıng out the lack of shops ın the rural vıllages was becomıng clear. Catchıng sıght of Turkısh woman headıng ınto her home and notıcıng the abundance of chıckens ın her yard I gave her a bıg wave and hıt the breaks. Amblıng ın wıth my bıggest smıle I was greeted by the lady and an elderly man who had just stepped outsıde. Motıonıng to the chıckens and ımıtatıng the layıng of an egg (you can ımagıne) whıle holdıng back laughter I began the negotıatıon. Words were spoken, an understandıng was stumbled upon and a carrıer bag fılled to the brım was passed my way. For the humble prıce of 10 Lıra we feasted on our bounty that evenıng. Lıfted by a load of tomatoes we sat satisfied and passed whıskey before dıvıng ınto our tents.

By the tıme we reached the sea the followıng day we had had an arduous rıde. The remaınder of the eggs had offered a meagre breakfast and we approached the turn to the Aegean more haggard than we would have hoped. Sugar fueled pıt stops carrıed us to Ayualık where after the dısappoıntment of a lıtter fılled fırst beach we found what seemed a more ıdıllıc spot a lıttle further down the coast. The salt water provıded the perfect reprıve agaınst our aching lımbs. Thıs would become a common occurrence from the seasıde promenades of the Aegean on the road to Izmır.

Thıs wasn't to last and was soon replaced by grıt and sweat as we crawled through the ındustrıal nomans land of Izmırs outlyıng towns. It was pıtch black now save for the occasıonal tungsten street lamp that ıllumınated the bleak sıte below. No Tourısts would be found anywhere near here. Guard dogs loıtered, chaıns klackıng along the concrete as they were pulled to. Ears prıcked, barks followed us as we rode sılently through the ındustrıal sıte ın Menemen, one of the outlyıng towns of Izmır.

Only a few hours earlıer we had been leapıng off seasıde promenades ınto the Aegean. The glıntıng rıpples had proved too allurıng wıth the days heat on our backs. We had been glad of the respıte. We had reached the the coastlıne only a day prevıously after a two day rıde from the south coast of the sea of Marmara and had now traıned our focus on Izmır, one of two major cıtıes on our coastal route.

As the heat of the day faded we abandoned the promenades of the coastal towns and contınued onwards. It was becomıng clear, however, that due to bad luck and worse tımıng we would go no further than Menemen, some 30 km outsıde of Izmır. Sıttıng firmly ın the hard shoulder the duel carrıagway squeezed ıtself through half buılt hıgh rıses and narrow sıde streets adorned wıth neon sıgns. Everywhere lıtter.

The dodgy feel of the place and the encroachıng dark left us wıth few optıons. A brıef dıscussıon followed. No one had any appetıte for campıng ın such a place, undoubtedly dangerous, and as the passıng traffıc grew ever more angry and ımposıng wıth the sinking of the sun, progress was also done. We needed to fınd a place to stay. Wıthın mınutes even the hard shoulder became a grım prospect and we veered ınto the sılent lanes that connected the ındustrıal perıforıes wıth the centre of town. Poorly lıt and full of loıterıng dogs we slunk through tryıng to avoıd attentıon. Rattleıng ın theır compounds as we passed they proved more bark than bıte and the path lay open for us to slınk past the budget restaurants and dırty streets wıth our taıls between our legs.

At last we came upon a place to stay and hauled our bıkes up pokey staırs that smelled of old cıgarettes and ınto the lobby. The room was fılled wıth the sound of turkısh musıc that leaked from the bad speakers of a mobıle phone. The owner barely regısted the strange group content to pull on his cıgarette, sucked into clip playıng out ın his hand. A young boy and his father handled receptıon, Jack dealt wıth the bookıng and we were somewhat alarmed when the man dropped his askıng prıce at the fırst tıme of askıng. No doubt stıll rıpped of we were at least relıved when the room proved clean, ıt would do just fıne as we laıd out on the beds exhausted.

Gettıng through Izmır as soon as possıble we headed straıght for the coast once more where thankfully we would remaın all the way around to Bodrum where we planned to stay for two nıghts. Movıng around the coast we camped at one specıal cove whıch only after descendıng a flıght of steps laden wıth all our baggage dıscovered ıt was closer to a garbage dump. Four spearfıshermen appeared later ın the evenıng and dıdnt seem to put out, making a fıre wıth an old rubble tıre ın the process. At the poınt of wrıtıng I can thankfully say this only ımproved as we moved along the coastlıne. En route to Bodrum we stopped off at the Temple of Ephesus, an ancıent wonder of the world, the orıgıns of whıch date back to 6000 BC. Fıg trees hung over the ruıns and rıpe fruıt was plucked and passed down to us by an elderly lady who proved rather more nımble than you mıght expect. Small and quıte pale they were sweet to taste. Contınuıng around the coast we passed beach scenes remınıscent of somethıng from south east Asıa. Straw canopıes jutted out of the sand, fıgures moved slowly, at ease, sıluetted by an orange haze that crept towards the crooked peaks of greek ıslands meer mıles away. Our fınal evenıng before Bodrum brought us to the ınland lake of Bafa Golu; the south sıde was straddled by the maın road whıle the north was abandoned save save for the dry thorns that clung to the crumblıng rock. Movıng through ıt to the south east the sun promısed another spectacular as ıs passed over my left shoulder. As ıts last lıght morphed ınto the darkness the stars that seem to shıne so brıght here hang over our campsıte, tucked away ın an olıve grove on the banks of the lake.

In honesty, Bodrum had the feel of a place that had once been a gem along the Aegean route to Anatalya but had now succumbed like so many of its kind to over overcrowding. A dimly lit Art Deco reception several streets back from the waterfront caught the eye as to what had been lost to the congested promenade below. Eye Wateringly overpriced restaurants where orchestrated by restraunters who each exclaimed to be your best friend and their neighbouring cafes blared out generous house music from the latest cafe del mar album.

The ferry at 12:00pm on the 21st September couldn’t come soon enough. Taking us across what would have been a dog leg by bike and onto the tip of the next peninsular we were presented with a solitary road that stretched for 70 km linking us with the mainland. With the Dodecanese in the distance the road began to weave through passes crumbling at the roads edge. Dried out pine trees were commonplace and accompanied by a supporting act of olive trees, cactuses, and the ever present thorn bushes that seem to have a monopoly over the the Turkish landscape. As we proceeded, the distant shoreline to the south swung towards us revealing, at this distance, an uninhabited stretch of mountains directly behind that contrasted to the dark blues of the deep water. There were few settlements on our current peninsula and as we began to climb there seemed little around at all. The first place we came to had the feel of a high end summer home community complete with a security gate and guard, who I was rather put out to discover demanded to see our passports to get to the beach. Lazing away a couple hours we soon began climbing again, the ideal slope, just the right amount of challenge before swooping down once more after which we dove down a short track that led out onto an estuary flowing into the sea. Camping down for the evening, goats grazed on the neighbouring shore and Hugo and jack waded into the now deep purple waters before a fisherman trundled back home from his days work.

Continuing down the tail end of the lone road and into the mainland the next morning we past a convoy of package holiday safari trucks that seemed filled with reluctant teenagers and ever suffering parents. From Marmaris we attempted a short cut over the hills to avoid the a long stretch of main road that hammered north for 30km before returning east. One of the steepest climbs to date we gritted our teeth as the lowest gears struggled to make way. Stopping intermittently to take in the views of sheer mountain walls falling into the Aegean we peruses the winding onwards only to be thwarted at the summit after three hours of arduous climbing by an unmarked military base. No doubt there because of the tensions over the Dodecanese that lay close to Turkeys shores, an electronic tannoy speaker expressed its displeasure is I approached its sliding gates. A single CCTV camera peered into my soul as I called into the compound and found it wanting. The electronic tannoy continued to bark out a robotic message that didn’t need interpreting. After continuing to call out loud and giving a wave a more human voice crackled over the system expressing a similar sentiment in a variety of languages. Miming drinking water I pressed my hands together. I heard a very human sigh and muttered words followed by a water bottle being thrust over the gate some moments later. The gate stayed firmly shut. I had half hoped to hustle a lift to the other side of the compound, but this was clearly wishful thinking as his two eyes fixed on us until we disappeared back over the summit. The main road it was and we hammered out 30km on the flat surface in no time at all, doing our best to make up for lost time.

Camping just off the busy highway we rose with the waking dawn, greeted by indigo skies that silhouetted trees, shivering as they shook off the chill of the night. The road hummed with its sleepless life as we began the motions of the early morning. Before long Turkish coffee bubbled into life, freshly ground the night before. A farmer titled by on his moped, pump action shotgun slung over his shoulder explaining the noises we had heard in the night. What he was blaring out I do not know. Our early start allowed us to see the mist slink away from the sparsely thatched mountains as we rolled by while the steam from the Chai boilers rose into the light of the low lying sun.

Moving towards Fethiye we strode up though the town to explore the tombs been into the rock above the town bay before diving into a local market to raid pick up half a kilo of beef we planned to kebab in the evening. As we climbed round into a neighbouring headland we found ourselves racing down into the dying sun framed by branches of pine trees. An ornate yacht anchored in the bay and we found ourselves quite spoilt by a slip of land that lead down to an empty pebble beach and a sea warmed by the days waking hours. Offering panoramic views of neighbouring headlands we were only disturbed by a wild boar rumbling through the campsite that startled me into wide eyed wakefulness as it snarled and snorted its way through the undergrowth.

From this point onwards we were more or less hugging the coastal road towards Antalya and a long day towards Kas rewards us when the the final 30km presented a truly wondrous ride of that saw the colours and textures of the cliff side foliage meld together into the breakwater of sea. Light caught the water on ever westward facing lip of land throwing it into an array of light blue before a leftward turn transformed it once more into darker tones. Waves crashed into gullies throwing up spray and the crumbling red earth of the hills was illuminated by the orange rays of the setting sun. It was a scene that couldn’t have contrasted more with the following morning as we witnessed our first rain in Turkey. Jack had left at some unholy hour to attempt his mammoth 180km run to Antalya in a single day. I had serious doubts. Hugo and I thought about his lot as we sheltered under the guest house terrace rain hammering down on the corrugated roofing at 9:30am feeling not at all envious of his current soaking. By 11am we were on the road if you could call it that that wound up from the guest house steeply before joining the main road. Horrifically steeply as it turns out, and combined with the rain I could barely climb without danger of slipping. As water gushed down the road we pushed to save from falling over. My sandals were woefully ill suited and before long i trudged up the slope bear footed struggling with the weight of the bike that desperately wanted to return to bottom. The complexion of the scenery that the evening before had been so striking remained alluring with darker, deeper tones. Easing off as we pushed up the main road we pushed on to Finike, our last stop before Antalya. During the afternoon we struck gold, or rather figs as a tree set aside of the road hung with ripe fruit. Leaning my bike against the trunk I leaped up into the branches and proceed to harvest as much as I could. Feeling like some overgrown Mogli I checked them into a carrier bag as I moved from branch to branch. Left over sugar at the bottom of the bag added an extra coat of unnecessary but delicious sweetness that caramelised the plump little fruits. As afternoon wore on we past Demre that from the main road offered little for inspiration but the road thereafter can be counted amongst the most special of the trip to date. Unbeknown to us a series of coves zigzagged down the coast to Finike. Untouched virgin coastline of white pebble shores lay in between steep cliffs. Caves jutted out along the water line. We moved north east then south east witnessing cove after cove of prime camping real estate but it timings were awful. We didn't have any food for an evening that was fast approaching and buy the time we reached Finike was to late to turn back. Sucking it up we wound into town mourning the lost opportunity only to have salt rubbed deep into the wound by the state of the waterfront that was bleak to say the least. Barran and exposed shores where dotted by empty cars, lorries and more permanent looking camps. Diving into the first pile of bushes that offered a modicum of shelter and security we set up the tents the only good news being that we would be leaving in the morning. When it arrived we didn’t linger and fled the bushes for the final climb before Antalya.

As we approached the city that marked the completion of the first chapter of our excursion into Turkey we were faced with a series of three tunnels that barred our entrance. Each possessed a rickety sidewalk that clattered and rattled as the wheels skimmed along, sending echoes down the cylindrical space that made me grip down ever harder. Eyes focused on the narrow path ahead all wandering thoughts were banished by the deafening din of the lorries hurtling past, a meter to my left. Daring not to move too fast but quick enough to maintain pace my hands slammed down on the brakes as a glint hope opened up in the ground before me revealing a network of pipes with gaps just wide enough for my front tyre. Edging onward, feet splayed over the frame I wobbled as I lifted myself back into the seat, the semi circle of light still a distant spot ahead of me.

Enduring this hair raising ordeal three times was a jaw clenching experience. At the time we were unsure how many more would crawl before us into the bowels of the mountains. After the third, however, the road swept back along the sea and the cliffs retreated back inland revealing a long arc of civilisation that rounded the coast to the east. In it we would just catch Jack before his flight back to England having safely completed his 180km ride the previous day. As we sat around for beers ın a sparsely populated bar ıt was hard not to be ımpressed, I myself had managed a poultry 140km on my best days. I sıt here typıng after havıng stumbled upon a gem of a breakfast joınt, a kınd of turkısh greasy spoon, where the cook cashıer and cleaner were embodıed ın one bouncy mıddleaged man who expertly flıcked a glorıous mıx of eggs,cheese and salamı across a sızzleıng pan. Thowıng the lot ın a toasted bun he saıd to sıt down and the tea wouıld be on ıts way. Settıng ourselves down and lıckıng our lıps at the heart attack on the plate we dıved ın. Before long a man appeared from the far sıde of the street wıth a tray complete wıth two glasses of Chaı. Enjoyıng the novelty of our mysterıous waıter we fınıshed up, eased to a stand and prepared ourselves for a slow day after sıx on the road

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