#I will not be tagging the Sally face fandom as I’m too scared for people to see my Larriot art lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

male-reads · 5 years ago

Text

Daryl Dixon: Parent

Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Male!Reader Summary: You find yourself in a prison, and soon realise there’s a good looking man who won’t stop gazing at you. Request: Hey, first off, I love your work, keep it up. My ask is, could you please do a Daryl Dixon x male reader. Like the reader is a new person to the prison that Maggie and Glenn brought back with them from a run. The reader has a son and daughte, (u pick the ages) and Daryl watches him from a far, falling for him. They go on a run and have to hold up for a while (u pick, storm or herd of Walkers) and Daryl finally admits his feeling to the reader. SMUT in the end. And please tag me.

(ok this is way longer than anticipated, and doesn’t end in smut bc ew. Enjoy.)

@leej2468

“C’mon, just a little while longer,” you said to your kids. You had two - twins - Sally and Dean. They were only young, eight years old. And you had been doing your best to keep them alive and capable of surviving.

The dead walking was a terrifying concept, and there you were, living it. It was even harder with the kids. They needed food, water and clothes. They were more of a priority to you than anything else.

“But I’m tired,” Sally said. She was holding your hand while Dean was on your back. Dean had wriggled in so that he was between your back and the backpack you had.

And it was just a little while longer.

“How many walkers have you killed?” the man asked. He was looking at you and your kids like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“A few.” You looked down at Sally, who looked like she couldn’t believe there were people in front of her. Dean was holding onto you tightly. “These two have killed a few too,” you added. In the long months since the end of the world, your kids had gotten good at killing the dead.

“How many people have you killed?”

“One,”

“Why?”

“He asked me to.”

The two introduced themselves as Maggie Green and Glenn Rhee. They said that they lived in a prison, and had been on a run for supplies. They were also welcoming of people that they found when they went outside their walls.

“So you live in a prison?” you asked. The two were in the front seats whilst you and your kids were in the back. Sally and Dean were clinging to you, nervous and scared.

“Yeah. We fought to have it, it had been overrun, but it’s a good place to be.”

You nodded, feeling nervous yourself.

When you finally got there, you couldn’t quite believe it. Even though it was a prison, it had been made … homely. There were farmlands, stalls and a lot of people. It was the most people you had seen since the start of it all.

You got out, and felt something akin to relief. Maybe you could start a life there. You turned around and helped Sally and Dean out. You took another look around and saw a woman with short grey hair next to a man with longer hair, dressed in black and leather. When they saw you looking, the woman waved while the man looked away.

It took a few months for the two kids to stop sleeping with you. They had the top bunk to themselves once they had. It was nice to sleep in an actual clean bed for once. But more often than not, you’d wake to one of them crying, and you’d find yourself with both kids sleeping with you by morning.

All the while, as each day passed, you noticed the man from your first day at the prison looking at you. They were just quick glances - barely lasting a second - but they were frequent. You weren’t sure how to go about it, but you had learned that he was the leader’s second in command. Rick Grimes had briefly introduced you both. The man’s name was Daryl Dixon.

You knew he was an attractive looking man. You’d been with previous men before, but from what you can recall, they had nothing on Daryl.

And so days passed. You sometimes interacted with Daryl, though not too often. He didn’t seem one for talking much, so you didn’t bother him. Though you found that Sally and Dean liked him far more, often asking him about his bike or his crossbow. You were surprised with how kind and patient he was with them.

“Will you go on the run?” Michonne asked you one day. You looked up at her. “Rick’s asked me to go on another run, and even though Daryl’s capable, we’d like someone else to go with him, just in case.”

You nodded, moving to stand up. “Yeah, lemme just tell the kids,” you said.

Sally and Dean weren’t too pleased with it. You were kneeling in front of them, Daryl and his bike a few feet away. “Why’re you going?” Sally asked.

“Michonne asked me to,” you told her, looking between the two of them. “I’ll be fine. Carol’s going to look after you. The most it’s gonna be is three, four days. Promise I won’t be gone for too long.”

Dean was the first to hug you. “I know you’ll be fine. You’ve got Daryl.”

“You mean Daryl’s got Dad.” Sally said.

With a smile, you kissed their foreheads and told them not to stay up too late. You got on the back of Daryl’s bike, arms around him securely. Daryl felt warm, but you had no time to think about it as the two of you shot off out of the prison.

The first day was spent mostly in silence, on the bike. The second was spent scavenging. Until, of course, a storm decided to settle in.

It was dark now, and the rumble of thunder was overhead as rain poured down outside. It didn’t make sense to continue scavenging out in the rain. But now the two of you were confined to your own space until the morning. You both had lucked out on the small building, but now you felt a little nervous; this was the first time you had spent so long with Daryl, and very few words had been spoken.

“Yer kids are alright,” Daryl said after the silence had gone on for too long. You were both sitting together, not too far apart, comfortable on the old couch left behind. “Cute,”

You smiled a little. “Yeah. Lucky to have them. They’re tough.”

“Get it from their mom?” You looked over at Daryl. He seemed genuinely curious.

“I wouldn’t know. Adopted them when they were a few weeks old,” you said. “Eight glorious years,”

Daryl nodded. It was quiet for a few more moments. “Y’know, yeh not too bad. Thought you might’a been a bit weird at firs’. But yer alright.”

“Why thank you, Mr Dixon, I’ll keep that compliment close to my heart.”

“Shurrup,” he muttered, and you noticed the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“You’re not too bad looking yourself, either,”

From the slight look on his face, you surprised Daryl. And not a moment later he had reached forward and kissed you. It wasn’t anything mind blowing. It was Daryl Dixon - a simple kiss that held the secrets he’d tell you in due time.

But in the meantime, simple, quiet kisses were shared as the rain continued to pour and the thunder echoed around you both.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #twd #twd fic #the walking dead fic #carol #carol peletier #michonne #rick grimes mention #the prison #prison arc #reader has kids #male reader #dad!reader #x male reader #x reader #male-reads writes

723 notes · View notes

coolxnxblue · 5 years ago

Text

de rules:

1. Themes might very with this blog. It’ll typically be SFW, but there will likely be dark themes, violence and swearing.

Things will be tagged! I’ll try my best, anyways. If you want something in particular tagged, please let me know through ask / anon / im. The format I use for tagging is, for example, tw: swearing.

I don’t have any triggers but I do ask you tag all of your NSFW content.

That said, I won’t do anything NSFW - gore is okay, though.

I’m of age.

2. I’m private, meaning I only really roleplay with people I follow. This is so things don’t get too overwhelming and for me and to cement who I want to interact with. I generally follow most people if our writing clicks, though.

If I don’t follow you and you’d like me to check out your blog, lurk in my notifs. I’ll definitely see you and make note to check you out. Same with promos, or you can just rb them to a sideblog / send an ask with its url. I can’t gurantee I’ll follow, but I’ll certainly check it out!

If it’s a crossover, I have to know the fandom and be at least a little bit confident with it. This is so I’m able to work with you, our thread and have muse for it. You’re free to ask if I know of a fandom or not! I’ll have a list at some point.

I follow the tag #coolxnxblue. If there’s anything you want me to see, like dash commentary, just tag that and x-kit will alert me of your post! I may respond to ic stuff ic stuff if I’m feeling it.

In that sense, I’m chill with dash shenanigans with most folk, not just mutuals!

Absolutely no godmodding. It ain’t fun, fam. If you’re not sure what this term means, do look it up. This includes powerplaying, metagaming, and other things of that nature. This applies especially in fights if they happen (I’m chance-based and hope that you are too).

I can be picky with OCs. But rest assured, if you’ve followed me/interacted with my promo, I’ll always give your pages a read.

Please don’t be offended if I don’t want to interact with you (and please don’t try to guilt me into doing so!).

As for following back, I usually take a week tops to do so - but if you’ve hit up my promo, I go through that eventually.

I DON’T CARE ABOUT AESTHETICS. I just think they’re pretty. If you don’t use formatting or anything like that, or heck - even wanna’ just do iconless rp - I have no problem with it whatsoever! It’s you, your writing and your muse I care about!

3. Please don’t rush me for starters or responses.

PLEASE understand that I have blogs galore and my muse tends to fluctuate; this can mean I’m everywhere at once and can end up neglecting a blog or two. It’s nothing personal; you know how muses are! Additionally, life happens to be a thing.

Please note the mun deals with anxiety and depression, and has part time jobs which are honestly tiring - this might affect how frequently she roleplays.

Chances are, I’ve probably has seen that bit of interactivity and just haven’t gotten around to responding yet.

My roleplaying style being para/multi-para, I may take a while to respond. I hoard drafts like a dragon - it’s really just the motivation to write and ship those out.

I hoard asks, but sometimes can’t find muse or interest for all of them. If it’s been a month or two, generally assume I’m not interested / can’t find muse for it. You’re free to send another though!

I answer asks from anyone - personals, rp blogs and anons. I’ll answer non-mutual asks occaisonally but I won’t be making threads out of them

4. Shippings? Heck yeah, I ship lots with my blue son! Just make sure they’re of similar age pls.

If I don’t happen to be interested, don’t force anything on my character.

I do not ship incestuous ships. Do NOT follow/interact if you do.

The ship has to have chemistry; I’m generally shipping trash, but if they don’t click, they don’t click, sorry.

This is a multi-ship blog, meaning there will be more than one ship without them conflicting with eachother.

If you want to ship and I already have a ship of your choosing going with a duplicate, please don’t hesitate to hmu! My ships aren’t exclusive and each character/relationship portrayal is unique to me!

Relationships are eternal until you deem otherwise. If you’re not interested in a ship anymore, just let me know!

Sonic X Tails won’t be happening on this blog, sorry.

5. Whilst I am of age, I’m not aiming for sexual content on this blog (and will not be dealing with fetishes). That stuff makes me uncomfortable, and I typically don’t recommend pulling it with my character if you’re interacting with me. Nonetheless, should it arise, I will tag it appropriately as nsfw //.

6. About reblogs…

I am not a meme source, and reblogs clog up my activity. Please reblog any ask / starter memes you find on this blog from their SOURCE. The exception to this rule is if there is no source; go ahead.

I don’t feel comfortable with Personals reblogging my IC or OOC posts, so please don’t do that. If I put something in the fandom tags for whatever reason (bar promos), you’re free to, though.

This goes for my art too unless it has the tag ok to rb, but otherwise only the person I drew it for can reblog it. If you wanna’ reblog something, I DO put it on my art blog eventually!

A few times is fine, as it happens, but repeatedly breaking these rules will result in me soft blocking you.

I try to participate in reblog karma as much as I can, but always reblog from the source/a meme source.

If a post or ask is for you, you’re free to reblog it to save it though - but only if you’re an rp blog!

7. I’m a para / multi-para blog, novella if I’m adventurous and have time. Whilst I may roleplay crack threads with shorter responses, this does not apply to all threads I write. This means:

I write my replies as detailed as I can muster, and length can range from 1 paragraph to 6.

Short responses (such as one-liners) in more serious threads where I’ve written a decent deal can instantly kill my muse for that thread.

Whilst I’d prefer for partners to at least somewhat match my length, it’s entirely up to you - just try your best and make sure you give me enough to work with. ♡

If my muse happen to go nuts out of nowhere - like, overboard - don’t stress too much about matching him.

8. Threads! You can yeet asks, memes, and even starters at me if I’ve liked a call! I’ll obviously have my own you can like.

You’re free to like starter calls even if we’re not mutuals; I can check out your blog that way. I still only write starters for mutuals though.

I know pretty much most if not all Sonic media, bar Fleetway which I haven’t gotten around to reading yet. Since that’s unfamiliar territory, I’m unlikely to tread in it yet.

Starter memes are the BEST way to interact me because they just yeet a prompt at my face and really help me write starters. If you see me reblog one, send one!

If you want a certain verse, lemme’ know! Otherwise, I’ll either resort to game verse or whatever continuity your muse applies to (i.e, Sally (archie), Starline (idw), and so forth).

If you want to turn an ask into a thread, go ahead!

In that sense, I don’t recommend writing starters for me unless we’ve discussed something. I don’t like to leave anyone hanging.

Please don’t assume things about my muse. If you’re uncertain about things, ASK.

IMs are open to mutuals, if you want to do any in-depth plotting. I also have Discord if that’s more convenient for you!

9. Guidelines on mains and relationships:

If we’re mutuals and we interact a lot, you’re welcome to ask me if I’d like to be your main!

Please don’t be offended if I deny, though; I typically want to pick those I trust to be my mains as well as people I can comfortably write with.

Not limited to them! I roleplay with duplicates galore so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to interact!

Pre-established relationships are a-okay in my book; if you have an idea for a relationship between our muses we can work towards, hit me up! I reblog those pre-established relationship memes every so often too. Romantic relationships link back to the shipping guidelines.

Also, friendship/family/rivalry relationships are EXTREMELY valid to me - so don’t feel scared about asking for them!

10. If you have any issues, please let me know and hopefully we can resolve it!

Mun is actually super nice, so don’t be afraid to hit her up!

I am absolutely terrible with IMs and Discord. I either respond quickly or days later, depends on my mood. Social anxiety tends to interfere with this (and more recently exhaustion from work) - but honestly, if you’ve sent something, I’ve likely read it and just haven’t gotten around to it yet! It’s nothing personal; trust me!

Please leave me out of drama; I’m here to have a good time, as is everyone else, and it pains me to see people arguing.

This is a little different with callouts - if I see anything on dash pertaining to any problematic users, I will take it into consideration and rb it if I believe them to be harmful.

11. To retierate, I tend to follow those that:

Write para and whom I feel my muse would click with.

Seem chill? Tone can really intimidate me honestly.

Have rules and about pages! Knowing the boudaries of my rp partners is super important as well as their lovely muses! Sometimes rules are enough, though, if you’re going to write the about eventually.

Tag their nsfw.

Don’t have massive icons - ie, have rp icons that take up an entire text post like 500x500 or something. I don’t want to clog the dash and it’s tiring to resize them.

...also, if I follow your hub blog (provided it doesn’t double as a personal), it generally means I’m cool with any blogs that are attached to it.

12. On threads…

If you’re not interested in a thread anymore, and would like to drop it, please let me know! I’d feel terrible if we’re both not having fun with it or if partners feel overwhelmed with the amount of threads we have.

Honestly, unless I let you know, our threads have no expiry date - so no need to worry about me dropping them without telling you. I can just be quite slow sometimes.

13. Mun does not equal muse! Anything my muse might say does not reflect on how I think unless I explicitly say so.

14. Know that if I follow you, I WANT to interact with you.

I literally couldn’t care less about follower counts. I care about YOU guys and our interactions.

15. Rules may be subject to change.

Please like this post if you’ve read the rules! You don’t have to, but it’s of personal reassurance to me if you have.

#.rules

14 notes · View notes

dr-gloom · 6 years ago

Text

Simply Meant to Be

Whoo! Day 1 complete! I’m glad I wrote this ahead of time ahahaha

This was written for the sander’s sides Halloween challenge by @sanderssidesspook

Day 1: Costume Party

Fandom: Sander’s Sides

Pairing: Moxiety

Summary: Virgil really, really likes Halloween, and Patton really, really likes Virgil.

Words: 4,985 (sorryyyyy)

Tags/Warnings: non-binary Virgil, Halloween parties, Virgil’s costume is @fangirltothefullest‘s Moxei, The boys are nerds, Remy is genderfluid if that wasn’t obvious, the costume is a pun

As always, will be posted on my AO3 and my blog’s fanfic page! Enjoy!

taglist:

@hungry-red-panda

No one in their friend group loved Halloween as much as Virgil. That wasn’t an opinion either – that was proven fact. Virgil would always go all-out on their decorations, pulling out all the stops, never leaving a single tombstone unturned. They’d set up a smoke machine for the front porch, blinking glowing eyes for the bushes, and put up window-length pictures of a run down, spooky house in their windows to make it seem like you were seeing the inside of their house. The house was covered in cobwebs, carefully placed in such a way that it created a tunnel of web guiding innocent trick-or-treaters directly to their front door. They’d bring out this electronic Scream decoration that hung from a tree and was motion activated. It would let out a creepy moan, and invisible strings would move the arms up and down. One year, they dressed up as a mummy and sat in a chair on the porch, holding a candy bowl that said, “only take one, please”. They were full-sized candy bars, so it wasn’t a ridiculous request. If a kid took more than one, they’d give the kid a good jump-scare and laugh as the arrogant thirteen-year-old ran crying to his mom. They weren’t malicious though, and they didn’t hate children.

They just really liked Halloween.

Perhaps their favorite part, they had to say, was their Halloween parties. Everyone loved them, and no matter who they invited and what they expected, they always ended up with more people than they planned for. Last year, so many people had shown up that they were flooding into Virgil’s front and back yards. They couldn’t count how many times someone set off Scream and drunkenly tried to fight it. Thankfully, it was mostly cloth, so they didn’t damage it. The only plastic parts were the hands and face.

This year, they were doubling their supply of party snacks. They bought enough Halloween candy to feed a small army, and when the cashier had to ring up half of the store’s apple supply, Virgil had to look away with a red face. They’d rolled their cart of candy, apples, chips, dips, punch mix and – yes – more decorations to their car, refusing to make eye contact with anyone they passed. Once they’d finally loaded everything up and backed out of the parking lot, they drove nearly ten miles under the speed limit, practically vibrating with excited energy. Halloween was in three days.

God, it was going to be amazing.

Their house had been decorated inside and out for eight weeks now. They had decorated the front yard as soon as they’d seen Halloween merch being sold in stores, figuring that if they could see it in stores, it was acceptable to decorate their house (not that they cared about what was socially acceptable). Patton had helped them, the two of them making a day of it and having fun using all of Virgil’s decorations and scaring each other. Virgil had to say Patton’s impression of Scream was spot on.

The night before Halloween, Logan and Roman come over from across town and Patton makes everyone dinner, since Virgil couldn’t cook to save their life, and they all settle in for a Halloween movie marathon. Patton and Virgil sit on the couch together, and no one makes fun of them for cuddling, and Patton pretends to be scared because he knows that Virgil doesn’t want the others to know how anxious horror movies make them. Patton doesn’t mind; he’ll gladly pretend to be scared if it makes Virgil happy.

Once they cycle through the acceptable horror films, they watch more family-friendly Halloween movies (per Patton’s request) like Halloweentown and Nightmare Before Christmas. Virgil appreciated the change, and they sang the songs along with their friends. Patton sang Sally’s parts, and Virgil sang Jack’s, the two of them flawlessly singing the couple’s duet later in the movie and sharing smiles which turns to laughter when Patton gives Virgil an eskimo kiss. Roman waggles his eyebrows and Virgil turns red, flipping him off.

They were midway through Scary Godmother when Patton nudged Virgil’s shoulder and they realized Roman was asleep against Logan, who didn’t look too far behind. Virgil smiled to themselves as they got up and grabbed a blanket for the pair, draping it across their shoulders. Logan shoots Virgil a tired thankful smile and closes his eyes. Virgil looks back at Patton, who’s blinking sleepily at the movie, and smiles. “Come on firefly, time for bed.” Patton whines but gets up, taking their hand and letting them drag him back to their room.

Virgil grabbed a Guns ‘N Roses tank top, an old shirt of Patton’s that he’d left the last time he spent the night, and two pairs of sweat pants, handing Patton his shirt and one of the pairs of sweats. Patton smiles and takes the clothes, stripping down to his boxers and changing into the offered clothing. Virgil blushes and turns away, changing their own clothes quickly and joining Patton in bed. Patton pouts at Virgil, “Let’s cuddle. Please?” Virgil laughs softly. “Fine. Cuddlebug.” Virgil turns around and Patton wraps his arms around Virgil’s middle, pulling them close until their back was pressed against his chest. He smiles against the back of Virgil’s neck, whispering, “Tomorrow’s going to be great, I just know it.”

Virgil hummed in agreement and closed their eyes, not realizing how tired they were as they almost instantly fell asleep.

Virgil woke up late Halloween morning, awareness trickling in like a small creek as they squinted against the light filtering in from the window. They cursed under their breath – Patton always opened the curtains when he stayed the night, and Virgil always woke up with sunlight in their face. Virgil rolled over with a soft groan, holding themselves up by their elbows. “Pat, wha-….” Their voice trailed off as they looked around. Patton wasn’t there, and his spot was cold. Virgil huffed slightly and rolled onto their stomach to look at the clock and swore loudly as they fumbled to untangle themselves from the blankets. They were so late!

Well, you can’t really be late to anything when you had nothing scheduled, but they were supposed to be getting the party ready! They had so much stuff to set up, and they’d slept through the morning – it was almost noon! They fall flat on their face, their foot caught up in the blanket sending them to the floor. They huff and shake the blanket off, getting onto their hands and knees before standing up, starting slightly when Roman stood in the doorway with a smug look, arms crossed over his chest. “Well that was hot.” Virgil could feel their face heating up as Roman laughed. “Shut up. Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

“Pat told us if we woke you up early he’d hide the Crofter’s.” Virgil snorts and rolls their eyes. Of course. Another glance at their digital alarm clock has any semblance of humor leaving their face, though. “Get out of my way, I need to prepare for the party.” They try to move around Roman, who’s wide frame easily blocks most of the doorway, but Roman won’t let them by. “Roman, seriously.” Their breathing picks up a little. What if people start coming while they’re decorating? What if they aren’t finished and they have to stop, and people hate it? What if it doesn’t meet anyone’s standards because they didn’t give themselves the time to properly decorate? What if people hate it so much they stop coming? Then Virgil will be alone on Halloween and-

“Whoa, Virge. Hey, look at me. There you go.” Roman smiles when Virgil looks up, not realizing that they were staring at their hands, picking nervously at their cuticles. “This is why I’m not letting you out yet; you need to calm down first. I will not stand by while you run yourself ragged trying to make the ‘perfect party’. It’s always amazing and you know it. Take a deep breath.” Virgil nods, squeezing their hands and focusing on the slight sting of their nails digging into their palms. They took a couple deep breaths, counting out the steps in their head until their mind was clearer.

“Okay, Prince, let me out.” Roman studies their expression before he steps out of the way with a sweeping bow. “Of course, Shay.” They walk past Roman, rubbing the last dregs of sleep out of their makeup-free eyes. Just one more thing to add to the list of 1,000 Things To Do Before 4 PM. Costume.

Virgil wanders into the kitchen to find Patton finishing up on lunch. Patton turns around and smiles brightly at the sight of his friend- making Virgil’s heart skip a beat – and clapping his hands together. “There you are sleepy head! You hungry? Lunch is almost ready.” Virgil pouted slightly and slunk into a chair. “I wouldn’t have slept so late if someone hadn’t threatened the Crofter’s.” Patton doesn’t even look apologetic as he turns back to the stir fry. “V, we both know you seriously needed the extra rest. Just how much have you been sleeping the last few weeks?” He leveled Virgil with a look over his shoulder, and Virgil pales slightly.

“…About 9 hours a week.”

“Exactly. Don’t you feel better now?” Patton starts to serve up the food onto four plates. Virgil hated to admit it, but Patton was right. They felt a lot better after sleeping ten solid hours. They hadn’t even realized how exhausted they felt until they didn’t. But then again, that always seemed to be how it was; their work kept them up at the strangest hours, and they were plenty used to getting little-to-no sleep.

Being a writer was hard, and nobody understood.

Patton sets a plate in front of Virgil, startling them out of their thoughts. He smiles a little apologetically before poking his head out of the kitchen to call the other two into the kitchen. He sits down across from Virgil with a grin and starts eating as Logan and Roman wander in. Roman sits next to Patton, starting to eat with mumbled praises of Patton’s cooking. Logan sits beside Virgil, giving them a small smile that they return, and they quickly hide their face when Patton looks over, starting to eat.

Virgil wolfs down their food, thanking Patton and tossing their plate precariously into the sink before going about party preparations. They still have a few decorations to put up (read: half of them), they had to make sure their backyard wasn’t a complete disaster, and they had to prepare all the food they’d gotten a few days ago. They practically run to their garage, throwing the door open and getting the last two Halloween boxes down, carrying them into the living room and starting to pull out decorations, starting with the living room, moving through the entryway and then the kitchen. They paused once those rooms were done. Should they decorate the hallway? People would be using their bathroom, so… Yeah, they should definitely decorate the hall and bathroom. They check the boxes to make sure they had enough, smiling to themselves. It was a good idea to buy more decorations when they’d gone to the store.

By the time they’re starting on the hallway, their three friends have finished eating and silently start helping as well. Patton starts getting the snacks together, pulling out bowls and arranging food and opening bag after bag, dumping them into the Halloween themed bowls. Roman goes about getting the activities together, grabbing the large barrel-like bucket out of the garage and filling it with water, cleaning the apples Virgil had bought and putting them in the bucket before moving onto the next thing. Logan went into the backyard, making sure the decorations had maintained their integrity and doing some light yardwork to keep the yard neat.

Virgil finished decorating the bathroom, smirking to themselves at the sinister spirit girl they’d affixed to the mirror. That thing was so creepy if you saw it with the lights off. They did one last glance-over of the bathroom and hallway before heading to their room and getting their costume together, slipping into the bathroom attached to their room to apply their makeup. Hopefully (more than likely) the others had thought to bring their own costumes.

It was a well-known fact that Virgil refused entry to anyone not in a costume, and this applied to their friends too.

What? They wanted authenticity, plus it made the party more fun. If their house was full of adults in casual day clothes it’d feel too much like a faculty Christmas party. They ended up accidentally slipping their arm in the hood of their costume and stared at it in confusion for a moment before realizing their mistake, taking the hoodie off and trying again. They adjusted it to make sure it wasn’t too bunched up and sat on the bathroom counter, grabbing their makeup. The great thing about their usual makeup routine and this costume was that they were pretty similar in style, so they didn’t have to use those cheap oily Halloween makeups.

They carefully apply the makeup, having been practicing for days to get it right so that they wouldn’t have to be stressing about it now, and look at themselves in the mirror. Sufficiently creepy. Very nice. They adjust their costume one last time, pulling the hood over their head and tying two of the sleeves behind their back before leaving their room. They mess with their sleeves, wondering if they should have made them shorter – seriously, why did they think making sleeves almost twice as long as their arms was a good idea? – and walk into the living room, where the other three are. Roman is dressed as The Beast (after he turns back into a human, of course), Patton as Belle, and Logan is dressed as Cogsworth, minute and hour hands drawn on his face. Virgil snorts, sitting on the back of the armchair away from all of them.

Patton looks away from the TV when Virgil sits down, gasping and jumping in alarm. That… is exactly why Virgil was sitting on the armchair instead of the couch. They turn their head away, their hoodie obscuring their face. Maybe this costume wasn’t such a good idea after a-

“I LOVE IT!!!” Patton jumps up and launches himself at Virgil, hugging them around their waist and pausing. “Wait… do you HAVE EXTRA ARMS???” Virgil startles slightly at the hug, blushing and nodding. “They’re fake, obviously, but yeah.” Patton squeals and hugs them again. “I love it kiddo, that’s so amazing!”

“…Thanks Pat.” Their face was burning. How red were they right now? Could anyone see under the makeup?

Roman and Logan get up, coming over to the armchair. Roman walks around it to see as much of the costume as possible, starting slightly and laughing in amazement at the hood. “This thing is positively creepy, it’s perfect.” He pokes a fang and draws his hand back when it actually hurts. He won’t be doing that again. “How long did it take to make this?” Virgil shrugs. “A couple months. I didn’t have much free time between writing and preparing for Halloween.” Logan ran his fingers along the yellow stitching; an odd choice, but it fit so well that he couldn’t really raise any complaints.

“Your work is exquisite, as always.” Virgil tries to hide their smile. Patton flips his hair over his shoulder – because he couldn’t be Belle without the wig, Logan, he just couldn’t! – and lets go of Virgil. “So! When is everyone going to get here?” Virgil looks at the wall clock over the couch. “Well…. I told them 4, so we should have-“ A knock at the door sounds. Virgil sighs. “absolutely no time to ourselves.”

They go to answer the door, Remy forcing his way inside almost as soon as the door’s open enough to slip in. “Guuuurl! Love what you did with the place, and that eyeshadow? So gothic chic.”

Virgil rolls their eyes. “Like you have room to talk-“ They check Remy’s necklace; the ‘he’ pendant is dangling from the thin chain. “Mr. Friday Night Makeover. What’s up with the costume?” They gesture up and down Remy’s lanky frame. The left half of Remy is a witch; green skin, black dress, long gnarly nails and wild black hair under (half of) a witch’s hat. The right half of Remy is a wizard; white beard, blue robe decorated with silver stars, and (half of) a pointy wizard hat. Remy tsks and flaps a hand dismissively. “It’s like, the Halloween version of that half-man-half-woman costume. Keep up, Virge.”

Huh. That was actually…. Kind of clever. Virgil rolls their eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You gonna stand in my doorway all day or do you wanna watch a movie with us while we wait?” Remy walks further into the house, raising an eyebrow at the other three on the couch. “Wait? Babe, this is Halloween! You’re throwing a party! There’s no such thing as waiting.” A Starbucks cup appears in his hand almost as if out of nowhere.

It’s another twenty minutes of watching movies and gossiping (because you can’t be friends with Remy without being pulled into his gossip) before anyone else arrives. It starts with the occasional ringing of the doorbell, Virgil getting up to let people in, everyone kind of congregating in the living room to watch movies. Then the ringing was near constant, until the house was crowded, the TV was turned off, and Virgil just had their door propped open so they didn’t have to keep answering it. Virgil had their Halloween soundtrack playing from the speakers, and they wandered through the crowd, keeping their gaze a little low.

They loved these parties – obviously, since they hosted them – but they’d never been good with crowds. They chat with a few friends, a stranger or two, but they mostly keep to themselves. They lost the other four about an hour ago, unable to find them in all the strange costumes and disguised faces. You’d think a poofy yellow dress would be easy to spot, but you’ve never seen a house full of superheroes, gorgons, genderbends and princesses. It was a lot.

Scream went off for the 46th time that night, Mufasa stumbling back with a cry and slapping the ghost.

Virgil scoffs and wanders into the kitchen. It was usually empty, since all the food and games were in the other rooms. They look out the window at all the cars parked along the street, and the groups of people in their front yard. They sat on the counter, watching people pass and looking for their friends.

Patton hadn’t even realized he was separated from the others until he’d turned to point something out to Virgil, only to realize the other wasn’t there. He shrugged to himself, figuring that the others were all adults and could take care of themselves. Besides, this was Virgil’s house! It was fine. He wandered through the front and back yards, through the house, and back again, talking to people and complimenting costumes, figuring he’d find his friends when he was meant to. He smiled as Thriller came up on Virgil’s playlist and the crowd cheered. They had such good taste in music.

He walked through the back of the house just to cover his bases, finding Virgil’s room empty and a very wet Roman being assisted by a very exasperated Logan in the bathroom. Apparently, he’d fallen into the apple bobbing bucket. That was just hilarious, and sad. In fact, he could say it was…

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oh my god.”

“-applesolutely terrible!”

Twin groans followed him as he shut the door with a laugh. He heads into the living room just as Thriller is ending, and he spots Virgil sitting in the kitchen. He bounds into the room, hugging Virgil tightly and missing the blush on their cheeks. “Virgil! I’ve been looking all over for you, kiddo! Are you okay?” Virgil clears their throat and nods. “I’m fine, Pat. I was just trying to find you guys, figured it might be easier if I didn’t move.” Patton nods and takes Virgil’s hand, in no way missing how the other’s cheeks color. “Well, here I am! Come on, let’s go party!” Virgil rolls their eyes and hops off the counter, letting Patton drag them back into the fray.

Patton sticks by their side, not letting go of their hand as they wander around the room, chatting occasionally. Virgil feels completely relaxed, grounding themselves with the feeling of Patton’s hand in theirs. The blush never quite leaves their face, their cheeks a little pink, and they hope people just assume they’re drunk. Monster Mash starts up, and Patton gasps loudly, spinning to face Virgil. Oh no.

“Dance with me!”

Shit. “I don’t know, I’m not much of a dancer, Pat.” Patton pouts. “….Fine.” Virgil concedes, and Patton cheers, dragging them to a clearer part of the room. Virgil never could resist those puppy dog eyes, even when they were surrounded by fake brown ringlets.

Patton was not by any means a good dancer, but Virgil loved watching him. His face was so carefree, enjoying the moment with his best friend and not caring what other people thought of him. The mood was infectious, and soon Virgil found themselves giving in and starting to dance too. They didn’t think they were any better than Patton, but dammit they weren’t going to let that keep them from having fun. The crowd had backed away slightly as the two danced, giving them more room, and when the song was over, Virgil burst into laughter. That was the stupidest thing they’ve ever done. Well….. yeah, no, dumbest thing ever. They looked at Patton, who’s lips were parted slightly and a slight pink on his cheeks. He smiled, a look in his eyes Virgil couldn’t place. Black Magic Woman started, making Virgil turn absolutely red, and Patton got a mischievous look in his eye. He held out a hand to Virgil. “Wanna dance?”

Virgil wanted to quip back that they already had, Patton didn’t need to ask, but the words died in their throat and they nodded. Patton’s smile grew as they took Virgil’s hand and spun them so their back was facing him. When Patton stood behind them to the left and took their hands, their eyes widened. He wanted to..? But they’d taken that class two years ago! As a joke! Virgil was going to totally embarrass themselves! They didn’t have time to object; as soon as they were in position, Patton started moving, and Virgil went with him on instinct. They thought belatedly that if Patton was in a dress, then they should be leading, but it’s not like it really mattered. Besides, Patton always lead.

Their movements were smooth, coordinated, perfectly choreographed as they moved in sync, swaying their hips as they danced together. A smile danced on Virgil’s lips as they moved with Patton, swallowing their laughter in favor of not messing up. By the look on his face, Patton wasn’t feeling too different. They felt so much happiness and energy, their chest swelled with it and almost made it hard to breathe. When Patton put his hands on Virgil’s waist and they moved together, barely a breath between them, Virgil couldn’t keep the blush off their face. Patton spun Virgil back around to face him as they danced to the final part of the song, movements growing quicker as the tempo picked up. They were both panting slightly, not breaking eye contact, trusting the other to move as fluidly as them and stay in sync. On the final note of the song, Patton’s arms wrapped around Virgil and dipped them, making their hoodie fall back.

It was silent for a moment before the surrounding crowd broke out into loud cheers, Virgil and Patton finally letting their laughter loose as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Their cheeks were pink, though from the dancing or something else, no one could really say. They caught their breath, Patton still holding Virgil. When he realized this, his cheeks darkened and he straightened up, letting go of Virgil. They tried not to be too disappointed, feeling the loss of Patton’s arms as if they were being exposed to the cold for the first time. People closed in, asking Virgil and Patton where they’d learned to dance like that, how long they’ve been together, if they competed in shows. The second question made Virgil blush even worse, and both they and Patton rushed to tell their audience that no, they weren’t together, they were just really close friends.

They’d taken a salsa class together as a joke (and a dare from Roman, who already knew both salsa and tango, the show off) a couple years ago, and haven’t danced together since. It’s not that they hated it, or didn’t like dancing with each other, it was just… complicated. Salsa was a pretty intimate dance style, and as Virgil’s feelings for Patton grew, they found it hard to dance with him without letting their feelings carry them away. And now they were feeling all of that again, watching Patton’s face as he talked to old college friends, gesturing animatedly as he talked about their first few lessons when Virgil kept stepping on his foot. His eyes were alight with memories and Virgil couldn’t help by stare at how his lips wrapped around the words he spoke.

They started slightly when they realized they were staring, quickly excusing themselves from the conversation and absconding to their room. They pulled their hood back up as they walked, only to tear it off their head again once their door was shut behind them. Their sleeve-covered hands came up to cover their face, careful not to rub any makeup off as they took deep breaths. Come on Virgil, you need to relax. Now is not the time to swoon over your best friend of seventeen years. You’re throwing a Halloween party, go out, be a good host, and have fun. Just bury these feelings deep down until everyone goes home and then you can eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, okay?

Virgil nods to themselves, heading back out into the party (after making sure their makeup wasn’t messed up, of course) and mingling in the crowd. They got dozens of compliments on their costume, and even more when they informed people that it was hand-made. They hadn’t seen any of their friends since they came out of their room, and they figured Patton probably went off looking for Roman and Logan when Virgil disappeared. They made their way outside, declining the offer to bob for apples; if they did, their makeup would most certainly be ruined. Not to mention the water; it’d be murky with black eyeshadow. Eugh.

They headed back inside, gravitating over to the dining room table to see the carved pumpkins on display. It’d been Patton’s idea to have a pumpkin carving contest, and Virgil didn’t see a problem with it (aside from the cost of the pumpkins. Jesus Christ) and had it set up in the dining room. It looked like everyone was pretty much done, but there were still a couple pumpkins left, so Virgil sat down and grabbed their tools, getting to work.

Patton found them there half an hour later, still working on their pumpkin. They were carving something more three-dimensional, so they weren’t just carving out chunks and calling it a night. They were carving (more like witling, honestly) the famous Nightmare Before Christmas scene, with Sally and Jack on that hill. They were fortunate enough that the pumpkin they chose was thick-skinned, so they had plenty to work with. They were about three-quarters done with it, focusing more on the scenery after having finished the two characters. Patton smiles, standing back for a few minutes to watch before moving forward to sit by Virgil, smiling at them. “That looks really gourd! Maybe you should’ve been a pumpkin carver instead of a writer.” He joked, and Virgil blew their hair out of their face.

“Not enough money in pumpkin carving, I checked.”

Patton laughs, hugging Virgil around their shoulders. God, he loved them so much. They were so amazing. Virgil blushed slightly at the close contact and focused on the pumpkin, Patton watching silently. Once Virgil was finally done, they sat back with a soft sigh.

“Well, you should enter that, you’d definitely win!” Virgil smirks and rolls their eyes. “I’m the judge, Pat.” Patton blinks.

“Oh, right…. Do you wanna see mine?”

Virgil raises an eyebrow and nods, and Patton gets up to grab his pumpkin, hidden behind all the rest. His heart is pounding as he places it next to Virgil’s pumpkin, smiling as he sits back down. This was a huge risk, honestly, and he was just hoping that Virgil wouldn’t be mad he wasted a pumpkin. Virgil just stares at it silently for a moment, and Patton starts to worry that they really will get mad. He chews on his bottom lip, watching intently. Slowly, Virgil’s face turns red, and they glance down at their lap and nod. Patton squeals and hugs Virgil tightly, knocking the both of them to the ground. Virgil opens their mouth to protest, but Patton cuts them off by kissing them (he’s going to have black lips now, great). Patton was right, today was great.

On the table, in front of all the other pumpkins, sits a mostly-finished carving of Jack and Sally on a hill. Next to it, a crudely carved out Jack-O-Lantern with a storm cloud and a heart with glasses, separated by five jagged words.

Will you be my boyfriend?

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #halloween #remy sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders

34 notes · View notes

everlark-your-own-adventure · 7 years ago

Text

Powder Keg, Chapter 1

Hey, Fandom! We’re back with the Holiday Edition of Everlark Your Own Adventure! Anyone fancy some love in front of a roaring fire in the middle of a blizzard? What about a good, old fashioned argument-turned kissing frenzy in the snow-covered woods? It can happen, but not without your help! This story will take us right up through New Year’s, so start reblogging and adding your thoughts in the tags today, and check back every Monday through to continue voting whether these two can put their past behind them, or if it’s just not in their favor this round.

Enjoy the first chapter of Powder Keg, written by @peetabreadgirl.

“I’m scared, Katniss! I can’t do it!” Sally cries, clutching onto my ski pants. If she keeps it up, the tears running down her cheeks and the clear goo starting to leak from her nose will freeze before break time.

“It’s okay.” I use my best big sister voice to try and soothe away her fear of skiing on a slope that’s only a little flatter than my chest. “You’re going to do just fine. See that flag there?” I point to the pole that’s halfway down the bunny slope on the edge.

“Uh-huh,” she half-sobs, nodding her head, her fingers flexing in and out, probably trying to get a better hold on me.

“All you have to do is make it there. I’ll be right behind you. Nothing to worry about, yeah?”

She sticks her nose back in my pants and shakes her head vigorously. I check my watch. I’ve been at this for 46 whole minutes. Only 14 left to go. Seemingly, a lifetime of seconds trying to convince a five-year-old that she has nothing to be afraid of, feels like hell. At this rate, I’ll have celebrated seven birthdays before we reach the bottom of the training slope.

Work with me, kiddo, I think, trying not to huff my frustration audibly. Happy parents give good tips.

Speaking of, I wave to Sally’s mother, sitting on the patio of the lodge, watching our progress. Or lack thereof. She’s propped in an Adirondack chair with sunglasses that cover half her face and a perfectly styled bun with just the right touch of messy. Her expensive jacket is only zipped halfway, and even from here I can see a the cleavage from her super-sized breasts.

She doesn’t wave back, clearly not impressed with my skill as a ski instructor. It’s my first time to teach here at Mt. Mockingjay Resort, but I’ve been skiing here all my life. I guess being a good skier doesn’t necessarily translate into being good instructor. I didn’t realize it would be so difficult.

But I’ve got an entire season to go, and it’s just starting to get busy with the holidays right around the corner.

Just as I’m about to pat Sally on the head, I hear a whoosh behind me. Before I can turn around, Peeta Mellark, my childhood-crush-turned-enemy stops in front of me and releases the bindings on his snowboard, stepping out of it.

“I’ve got this, Peeta,” I tell him, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice in front of Sally. I know what he’s about to do. Thinks he’s God’s gift to females of any age.

He ignores me, eyes on the little blonde girl who could pose as his offspring. She might be, considering the rumors that he receives tips from his students in the form of blow jobs and other activities in the bathroom. Ugh. That was harsh and those rumors probably aren’t true, but Peeta does get the most requests for private lessons of any of the mountain’s ski instructors. Mostly women. I guess he’s not completely unfortunate looking. Sort of classically handsome.

I cross my arms over my chest as he starts speaking to my lesson in a tone that’s both soft and fun, something I can’t seem to master no matter how hard I try.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

Sally looks up, connecting her blue gaze to his. The smile that lights up his face makes her keep her focus on him instead of burying her face back into my clothing. I notice a giant wet spot on my upper thigh. Thank goodness for waterproof gear.

“Sally,” she manages through a few sniffles. She wipes her nose with a gloved hand.

“Sally, I’m Peeta. It’s nice to meet you.” He pulls off his glove and holds his hand out to shake hers. “Are you having some trouble getting down the mountain?”

“Mhm,” she nods, turning her body towards him. Her skis move a little, sending her off balance. Her eyes widen in fear but Peeta catches her by the arm and steadies her.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do, Sally,” he says, like she’s just going to go along with it. I cock my hip, waiting for the outburst that’s sure to turn this crappy day into a win for me.

“I’m gonna hold your hand and walk right beside you all the way down, and then when we get to the bottom, we’re going to go inside that building right there,” he points to the ski lodge, sounding as excited as kid on Christmas morning, “and get the best tasting hot chocolate on Mt. Mockingjay. What do you say?”

Sally looks from him to the lodge, then back. I know I shouldn’t relish a child being scared, but right now, if it will put Peeta in his place, which happens to be out of my stratosphere, I’m rooting for a tantrum.

“Okay,” Sally says to him, wiping the remnants of her tears away. I would choke on my own spit if the air weren’t so dry when Peeta’s face breaks into the smile seen round the world, it’s so bright. Damn. People in China are waking up wondering what the hell happened to the moon.

“Um, you know what Sally, I can do that with you, okay? We can let Peeta get back to…” Whatever he was doing. Or whomever.

“No, I want Peeta,” Sally says, letting go of me all together and launching herself at him. Traitor. She’s known me for 46 minutes and him all of 46 seconds. I stare daggers at him as he sets her skis at the right angle and adjusts the strap that keeps the tips from sliding too far apart.

If I weren’t so dumbfounded at Sally’s change in attitude, I would forbid him to take her from me. Before I can utter a syllable, he starts down the slope with Sally in tow, making a game out of it. I finally snap out of the shock and push my poles into the ground, shoving off in their direction, seething.

When we reach Sally’s mother, Glimmer, she gives her mom a huge hug. “I did it, Mommy! Did you see? Did you see?” the little girl cries excitedly.

“I did!” Glimmer responds, looking up to Peeta. His shades make him look like an aviator pilot. She practically purrs like a cat in heat. “Thank you so much, Peeta.” Her hand goes to his bicep. Of course it does. That’s not obvious at all.

“I thought Katherine would never get her off that slope.”

“It’s Katniss,” I correct her with barely concealed irritation. She doesn’t even look at me. Neither does Peeta or Sally. It’s like I don’t exist. My seething is turning to a rapidly boiling rage. If Glimmer leaves a tip, he’s not getting it. I wasn’t even finished before he came waltzing in to play the unnecessary hero. “I’m sure Sally would have gotten down just fine if I’d been given a few more minutes to convince her she could do it.”

Peeta’s eyes snag mine and I see the warning there. Glimmer Abernathy is the richest ski bunny on Mt. Mockingjay. Her husband practically keeps these lifts open with how much money she spends here every year.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Sally says excitedly. Glimmer finally looks down at her daughter, her hand still on Peeta’s arm. “Peeta said we could get hot chocolate if I got down!”

“Did he now?” Glimmer looks back up at Peeta with a coy smile.

“It’s my treat,” Peeta tells her, showing off his dazzling smile and perfect teeth.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she gasps, smashing her free hand against her chest, pushing her ample cleaving damn near up to her chin. I want to barf. “I’ll buy if you let me come.” The twinkle in her makes me wonder if that’s a double entendre. I’d rather not stick around to find out, but this show ain’t over yet.

“Sally hasn’t finished her lesson, yet,” I remind them. If the lesson doesn’t get completed, I have to forfeit the whole hour’s pay.

“I think we’re all done.” The way Glimmer says it makes it seem like I won’t have any repeat business from her. “Thank you for your time, Kennedy.”

The three of them turn and walk across the deck, into the revolving door of the lodge, leaving me gaping at the backs of their ski-cap covered blonde heads. Kennedy? It’s not even close to Katherine!

I don’t have another lesson until the afternoon, so I huff and puff all the way back to the offices, almost slinging my skis into my locker. I’m so mad I barely register the other bodies in the room.

“Sorry, Everdeen.” Johanna Mason, my boss, says following it up with a low whistle. “It wasn’t my first choice.” If there’s a skier equal to my talent, it would be Jo, but an unfortunate accident blew out her knee and now she has to sit on the sidelines, scheduling us all over the mountain while she keeps warm inside. It sucks big time, and while we’re not super close, we’re better friends than when we were competing against each other in high school. I was a freshman giving her, a senior, a run for her reputation as the fiercest chick on the blacks.

I growl and grind my teeth together before answering. “You knew?.” I turn to face her, hands settling on my hips in challenge, ready to defend my earnings. “I didn’t get to finish the lesson. I was 14 minutes away, Jo! I shouldn’t be docked if he physically skis away with the kid.”

“I wish I could pay you,” she starts with a sincerity that’s usually not like her, “but when I made rounds earlier Glimmer caught me and requested that Peeta finish the lesson. I tried to convince her to let you have the full hour, and then we could switch instructors if she still wasn’t happy, but she complained that her hard-earned money was being wasted.”

I snorted. Hard earned money, my ass. She married a paunchy, balding drunk that made a fortune from a lucky investment in bitcoin.

“Keep it to yourself,” Jo stops me before I can say it out loud, probably not wanting it to get out what most of us think about her, flicking her gaze to Bristel and Gale, two other instructors this year. Bristel’s a boarder like Peeta, and Gale a skier like me, though he couldn’t beat me down from the top of the bowl if one my legs was broken.

“Look, Everdeen, I know it’s a tough situation, but the policies are what they are and we have to keep our best customers happy. And the fact of the matter is, you couldn’t get the kid to do what she needed to do, and Peeta can.”

I let out a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to let it go. As one of the ‘best’ customers of the lodge over the last five years, Glimmer gets what Glimmer wants. And she always chooses Peeta. He’s been her instructor since he started at the resort 3 years ago.

Another piece of gossip I picked up in the locker room.

“At least I have my afternoon lesson,” I say to myself.

“Actually,” Jo starts, and I feel my heart squeeze inside my chest. “They canceled. Kid has a cold or something.”

“So I get nothing at all today?” I shriek, lifting my hands in disbelief.

“You can clock into the snack bar and get a couple hours in,” she offers.

“That’s minimum wage!” I cry, my hands pounding my thighs they fall so hard. I spin and bang my forehead against the locker.

“It’s better than no money at all,” she shrugs.

She’s right, but I don’t want to admit it. I strip my outer gear off and toss it in my locker, slamming the metal door shut, and take off for the cafeteria. If this keeps up I’ll have to work the snack bar through the summer to make the money I need. In lesson tips alone I would quadruple the pay I’ll be getting working hourly here at the lodge, not including the $25 an hour I acquire for teaching.

I’m fiddling with the soda machine, trying to figure out how to adjust the carbonation setting on the Dr. Pepper when someone taps me on the shoulder. I whirl, coming face to face with Peeta. He looks… nervous. My earlier irritation isn’t as pronounced now that I know he was forced to retrieve Sally, but I��m not used to being second best to anyone, and it kinda blows.

“Hey, Katniss, look - I’m sorry about earlier.” He unzips one of his pants pockets and pulls out a wad of cash. “It was unfair what Glimmer did to you, and I want to be sure you get paid. I was watching you with Sally, and,” he swallows as my suspicious gaze narrows at the bills, “she’s a real handful. Not your fault.”

My instincts say to reject it. What he did years ago comes rushing back, slapping me with reality. I can’t take his money. It would be like forgiving him for that.

But I really need it. My old Jeep needs four new tires and my mom just lost her job. Not to mention Christmas is in six short weeks. Mom could use the income to help buy Prim some presents, but I don’t want to take his pity money. It’s not like I can’t do the job. I’m the best skier here. I’ll have more opportunities, right?

But what if I don’t? What if more lessons cancel and more parents aren’t satisfied? I hate to think what a dismal season I’ll have if I get only a few lessons assigned to me and no requests.

Help me! Do I take the money, or do I tell him to shove it up his ass?

#everlark-your-own adventure #powder keg #peeta #katniss #ski instructors #holiday edition #2017 #vote!#peetabreadgirl #xerxia31 #burkygirl #we're at it again

188 notes · View notes

skeletonwithabowtie · 8 years ago

Text

REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost, don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck ! TAGGED. @themisfitmouse TAGGING. Uh... @pxmpkinprincess, @sallowscripts (any muse), @snake-eyes-11 (any muse), @thesundowncrew (any muse. Please. Don’t do all three), @outlandishboogiegirl (any muse), @supernatural-sister, uh... Clover already tagged a bunch of people I would have picked... And anyone who has a free hour and wants amazing character development!

(Sorry about the length. I’ve put it under a read-more after a point)

BASICS. FULL NAME : Jack Skellington NICKNAME : Alright, here we go: Jacky Boy, Skellington, Bone Man, Bone Daddy, Taibhse (Tabby), Mister Unlucky, Pumpkin King, Skeleton Jack, ‘Get out of My House’ AGE : I have no idea. He doesn’t either. Over a thousand, at least. He acts like a 6 year old, a 10 year old and a 40 year old depending on the situation. :| BIRTHDAY : Funny you should ask this. We actually don’t know. I’ve been here for over three years and we’ve never decided on a birthday. At this rate we might just have to pick a day. ETHNIC GROUP : Skeleton/Ghoul/Spirit NATIONALITY : Hallowe’en Town LANGUAGE / S : English, Irish. Dabbles in a few other languages including French, German and Spanish. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Asexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Hetero demi-romantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Married happily to @pumpkinqueensally�� CLASS : Technically, higher-class. HOME TOWN / AREA : Hallowe’en Town CURRENT HOME : Skellington Manor, Hallowe’en Town. PROFESSION : Pumpkin King, Master Scarer, Hallowe’en Organiser, Spirit Guardian

PHYSICAL. HAIR : .... Skull. But in the human form, it’s dark brown and mostly short. There are some longer strands that can fall over his eyes. For the most part, these are all combed back neatly. EYES : .... Eyesockets. Sometimes there’s an orange flame at the back of them. In the human form, they are a dark brown. They shine with curiosity. NOSE : .... Nose cavities. But in the human form, it is long with a little curve. FACE : .... Skull. But in the human form, his face is long with defined cheekbones and a rounded jaw. LIPS : Surprisingly, he has lips. They are marked with vertical ‘etches’. In the human form, they are narrow, a shade darker than his normal skin tone. COMPLEXION : .... A skeleton has a complexion? In the human form, he is pale. BLEMISHES : Nothing comes to mind? SCARS : An indent on one of his neck bones from having the rope around his neck in his scarecrow form. He also has a scar on the top of his right femur, which is where the bone healed after a crack. TATTOOS : None~ HEIGHT : 6′10″ WEIGHT : Uh.... According to Google, the average weight of a skeleton is roughly 30 pounds?? BUILD : S-K-E-L-E-T-O-N. Human disguise, on the other hand, is tall and lithe. He looks like an individual who is very active, but not intensely so. FEATURES : His height makes him stick out like a sore thumb in Hallowe’en Town. His mouth (and skull in general) is unusually animated for a skull, and can stretch nearly the width of his skull. ALLERGIES : Pink and cute. Nothing comes to mind off-hand. USUAL HAIR STYLE : The human form usually has the hair combed back in three parts. However, if he isn’t paying attention, some longer strands can fall forward onto his face. USUAL FACE LOOK : The skull, as mentioned before, is lively and animated. A lack of eyes makes it difficult to determine his mood. However, rest assured that he is observing with interest. USUAL CLOTHING : A well-fitted pinstripe suit. It is black with narrow white stripes. Compared to the traditional pinstripe suit, the stripes look slightly haphazard. In place of a tie, a bowtie sits at the bottom of his neck. It is in the shape of a bat, with the wings mirroring the stripes on the suit to create the illusion of veins.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Due to being the Master of Fright, Jack does not have fears. Even so, he is keenly aware of the passage of time. As a practically immortal being, he will have to watch those he cares about grow old and die. He knows it isn’t a comforting thing. ASPIRATION / S : Simply put, he wants to help Hallowe’en become better and better every year! But personally? He wants to do what’s best. He has always believed in redemption, using violence as a last resort. So in a way, he strives to help others see beyond ‘reputations’ and past experiences. POSITIVE TRAITS : Honest, Loyal, Dedicated, Child-like, Love of learning, Energetic, NEGATIVE TRAITS : Impulsive, Obsessive, Stubborn, Prone to being self-centered, Chatterbox MBTI : PROTAGONIST (ENFJ-A) ZODIAC : See the ‘birthday’ question TEMPERAMENT : Jolly SOUL TYPE / S : Leader/Spiritualist ANIMALS : Prairie Dog! VICE HABIT / S : He talks with his hands sometimes, using them to make gestures (often dramatically). When by himself, more of these vices emerge. He cracks his bones, and he will drop everything to focus on a new thought FAITH : While Jack’s origins are based in Celtic times, Jack himself has no religious faith. However, he is fully supportive of everyone else’s beliefs (or lack of) and will try to learn more about them if the opportunity arises. GHOSTS ? : His dog is a ghost. Enough said? AFTERLIFE ? : Hallowe’en Town is considered an ‘afterlife’ to some species. REINCARNATION ? : Jack will neither confirm nor deny if he has met someone who has been reincarnated. ALIENS ? : VERY HOPEFUL. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : He himself is the Pumpkin King, but this is a title rather than his position. Politics aren’t really a thing, though. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : He would be considered ‘wealthy’, but it’s not something that’s isn’t required to survive. SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : As the Pumpkin King, he’s held in high regard. His word is considered law. EDUCATION LEVEL : He has a high level of education, and has furthered this through acquiring new books and self-learning.

FAMILY. (Personal note. Due to different relations with different characters, I easily confuse myself between the ‘main’ verse and side-steps of this. Consider the family information the basics, but bear in mind these will change depending on who he’s interacting with. @.@ ) FATHER : None, technically. MOTHER : None, technically. SIBLINGS : None, technically. EXTENDED FAMILY : His wife, Sally, and Doctor Finklestein (a father-in-law). NAME MEANING / S : ‘Jack’ was chosen due to his turnip head being linked to the jack-o-lantern. ‘Skellington’ is a pun. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : I... Don’t think this applies to Jack.

FAVOURITES. BOOK : Too many to list! At the moment, he’s fascinated with historical books. MOVIE : He hasn’t seen many movies, if any. 5 SONGS : Very flexible in music genres. But his only proper interaction with music is with the Hallowe’en Town band. DEITY : He will always have a soft spot for Celtic deities. HOLIDAY : Hallowe’en! Followed closely by Christmas! MONTH : September! (surprise!) SEASON : Autumn! PLACE : Spiral Hill! WEATHER : Crisp autumn mornings. SOUND : Autumn leaves crunching on the ground, the wind blowing through the trees, the chatter of the local ghouls, Sally’s singing, fire crackling. SCENT / S : Wood fires, new books, cinnamon TASTE / S : Hot chocolate, jellybeans. (He’s a skeleton, he doesn’t need to eat, so his experiences in taste are rather limited) FEEL / S : Sally’s arms around his shoulders, snow, the warmth of a fire, the attack hug of someone close to him. ANIMAL / S : Dogs NUMBER : Thirteen COLOUR : Orange

EXTRA. TALENTS : Scaring, pumpkin carving, fire creation and manipulation, acrobatics, dancing, public speaking. BAD AT : Using technology, Detecting sarcasm, understanding when he should stop and think about what he’s doing, maintaining a proper sleep pattern TURN ONS : TURN OFFS : HOBBIES : Reading, Exploring, pumpkin carving, violin playing TROPES : Here. :P AESTHETIC TAGS : ........ I don’t have any. GPOY QUOTES : ... A what now?

FC INFO. MAIN FC / S : Himself. ALT FC / S : M.att Smith OLDER FC / S : None, but I was jokingly considering C.hris Sarandon or B.ill Nye YOUNGER FC / S : Hm... None. VOICE CLAIM / S : His own voice, so.. D.anny Elfman/ C.hris Sarandon. GENDERBENT FC / S : Nah.

MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : I hate to inform you, but that’s already a thing. My portrayal of Jack is based on the movie, so his personality and whatnot are more or less the same. Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : See A1. Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : Okay, so basically, Jack arrived at my house January 2013 and was like ‘HEY DID YOU HAVE A GOOD CHRISTMAS??’ and hasn’t left since. Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4 : It actually started when I was 12. I actually completely missed the online fandom since the extent of my internet knowledge was y.outube. I knew of Jack, and three songs. But I didn’t see the movie for about... I wanna say 6 months after I discovered the songs. I dunno though. I’m not entirely sure why I liked him though. Probably because he could sing. Who knows?

Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : Regarding him himself? I think the fact that despite his love of research and learning, he’s impulsive and can make decisions too fast without considering the implications.

In general? I think everyone knows how I hate him being a mascot of the ‘g.oth and e.mo culture when he’s so bubbly. Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : ....... The mun/muse line blurs dangerously sometimes. It might be dangerous for me to keep writing him in the long-term. Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : Honestly I’m too nervous to ask him because I hate asking people things like this aaaa

Ash is a charming human. Honestly, I fell she is a little too lazy for her own good sometimes, but what she is interested in she will pursue it with such vigour! Honestly, have you heard her talking about those electronic games? Mind-boggling.

I must admit, I am proud of what she has achieved. For someone who claims to not work well on long-term projects, she has managed to perform excellently.

~Jack (who hijacked this questionnaire because Ash didn’t want to ‘cause a fuss) Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : .... Why do you ask such hard questions? I can’t possibly start singling out individuals but... Jack has had some amazing interactions over the years. Befriending villains, being a father to his children, adopting others as his own, meeting strangers because he was hopelessly lost... It’s honestly been amazing. Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : It comes really easy to me, actually. I’m at the stage where I can see something and go ‘yep. Jack would do that’. In fact, as I was skimming the questions earlier I was mentally answering them. Those personality quizzes were completed faster than I could probably do them for myself! Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : I started at 10.20pm. It’s now... 11.50pm. :D

#skullcanon #holy crap this was long but worth it #I'm putting the results of the personality tests in another post because I haven't preoprly read them yet xD #Thank you for the tag! <3

6 notes · View notes

mousedetective · 8 years ago

Text

No More Regrets (20/25)

And oh no! Moriarty strikes again, and there’s trouble in paradise. Hope all of you, especially @ladysolitaire, enjoy...

No More Regrets - Molly Hooper prefers a life limited to her teaching at King's College, the occasional consult for Scotland Yard and evenings with her cat and a good book, but her best mates think she should expand her horizons. On one of their regular "Let's get Molly a social life" nights, Molly meets a man who saves her from a sticky situation, but before she can get to know this Sherlock fellow any better she has to leave the pub. She thinks it's a fleeting "what might have been" moment, but Sherlock has other ideas about that.

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper

Characters: Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes, Mary Morstan, Sally Donovan, John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Philip Anderson, Jim Moriarty, Original Male Character(s), Irene Adler, Stella Hopkins

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Alternate Universe - College/University, POV Molly Hooper, Poor Molly, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Fluff, Awesome Molly, BAMF Molly, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing, Molly Is Patient, Shy Molly, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, Protective Sherlock, Flirty Molly, flirty Sherlock, Minor Mary Morstan/John Watson, Minor Greg Lestrade/Sally Donovan, Moriarty Is A Dick, Creepy Moriarty, Moriarty is Alive, Revenge, Moriarty's Revenge, Hurt Victor, Past Victor Trevor & Sherlock Holmes Friendship, Sherlock Holmes & James Moriarty Rivalry, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Molly Hooper/Mary Morstan Friendship, Sally Donovan & Molly Hooper Friendship, Irene Adler Is A Mole, Brave Molly, Moriarty Is Careless, Sherlock is a Good Boyfriend, Sherlock Is Dedicated, Eventual Happy Ending

Chapter 1 | Chapter 20 | Send Me A Prompt? | Buy Me A Coffee?

She had been surprised to see the familiar face of DI Hopkins waiting for her outside of her office almost two weeks after she got the news from her that Scotland Yard was considering her to replace Carpenter as their resident specialist registrar if everything at the university fell through. She had a troubled look on her face, and that made Molly worried. “Stella?” she called out, getting the woman’s attention.

Stella gestured to the note board on her door, which Molly regretted to note was still covered with about equal measure notes of disdain and notes of support. “Not everyone is happy about Carmichael leaving, are they?”

“No,” Molly said with a sigh. “The women he’s harassed are, and professors and adjuncts who he’s bullied, but those who have grants that need funding or other matters that were in negotiations, not so much.” She began plucking the notes off the board and setting them on top of her papers before biting her lip. “I suppose you’re here to tell me the job at Barts has gone up in smoke?”

“Oh no. If anything, they might try and entice you earlier than your end of term. Carpenter is getting belligerent now. He swung at that consultant Krause brings when the consultant told him to stop saying unkind things about you.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” Molly said, shaking her head.

“You know him?” Stella asked.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Molly said as she got the last note off. “That’s what started this whole debacle in the first place.” She shifted her hold on things and then opened the door. “He teaches at our rival university, but it’s more complicated than that.”

“Molly, you know you can talk to me,” Stella said.

“This is a personal matter between Sherlock and someone else,” she said. “I’m just collateral damage, I suppose.”

“You and your father, it seems,” Stella said as Molly made her way to her desk.

Molly dropped her papers on her desk with a dull thud. “What has my father got to do with this?”

“There’s been word he wasn’t…‘above the board,’ so to speak,” Stella said quietly. “Most of the Yard who worked with him think it’s utter shite, including the top brass, but if the rumours keep spreading, they may have to take an actual look into it.”

“How did these rumours start?” Molly asked, aghast.

“I don’t know. But Krause and a few others are looking into it. They were fond of your father and they aren’t taking too kindly to this.” She came closer to Molly’s desk. “Molly, if you’re in the middle of something and you need help, please, let me help you. I know I’m not one of your best mates, but I am a friend. I can help off the record as much as possible.”

Molly was quiet, but then she nodded. “Let me think about it, Stella, alright?”

“Fair enough,” Stella said. “For now, I’ll help Krause and the others. If someone is trying to smear the Hooper name, we’ll put a stop to it.”

“Thank you,” Molly said, giving her a weak smile. Stella gave her a more reassuring one back and then turned and left the office as Molly sank into her seat. It wasn’t bad enough Moriarty was coming after her professionally. Now he had to try and smear her departed father’s name? She knew her dad had been on the up and up. That was the way he was. But even the whiff of doubt on an official level could rain all sorts of trouble down on so many people.

She picked up her mobile. Classes were over for the day for Sherlock, she was fairly sure, so she shouldn’t interrupt much other than perhaps a student getting clarifications on the day’s lecture. She pulled up his number and hit send and then waited two rings for him to answer. “Molly?” he asked.

“The bastard is trying to smear my father’s name,” she said, not even realizing she’d been on the verge of tears until she felt one hit the heel of her hand. Stella came and told me there’s rumours at the Yard that my father might have been corrupt. It’s bull. I know it and they know it but Moriarty...the bastard...”

“If he wasn’t corrupt then the truth will come out,” Sherlock said in a soothing voice.

But all Molly could focus on was the first word of the sentence. “What the bloody hell do you mean, ‘if,’ Sherlock?” she said, anger humming along her voice. “My father wasn’t crooked. Now way in hell would he be dirty. No. And if you think that--”

“I don’t,” Sherlock said firmly. “But Moriarty has ways of making things appear as they aren’t.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Molly said, feeling as if she’d been punched in the gut. “So even though we know he isn’t, it could all look as if he was? Sherlock, criminals will be set free! People who should never be allowed on the streets again, they’ll be let out over...over a bloody fucking vendetta!”

“I won’t allow it,” he said. “I will not allow your father’s name to be tarnished and I won’t allow any criminals to be set free.”

Molly shook her head. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m going to walk to the psychology department and see if he’s there and give him a piece of my mind. Enough is enough.”

“No!” Sherlock said, his voice suddenly sounding panicked. “Don’t. That’s not the smart way to deal with him.”

“Then maybe I’ll just clue Scotland Yard into this. He’s sent me threats, Sherlock. I can have him arrested.”

“And he’ll be out in a day,” Sherlock said.

“Then what am I supposed to do?!?” she said, getting exasperated. “I can’t confront him, I can’t get the law involved. Am I supposed to leave it all up to you? I’ve done that so far and now the career I’ve built so far is in jeopardy and the legacy my father left is too. What great plans do you have Sherlock? Tell me. Please.”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

“Well, don’t bother to come around until you do,” she said, hanging up the phone. She was angry and sad and scared, all at once, and as she tossed her mobile on her desk, knowing she’d probably just thrown away the one relationship that had ever mattered to her, she did the only thing that seemed prudent and pulled her knees up to her chest, curling up on her chair, and started to cry.

#Sherlock #sherlolly #mollock #Molly Hooper #sherlock holmes #stella hopkins #Multipart: No More Regrets #my stuff #fanfiction #fanfic #donation fic #ladysolitaire

2 notes · View notes

dr-gloom · 6 years ago

Text

Simply Meant To Be

I have to repost this because I changed my URL (never doing that again -_-) so here we go! Day 1 of @sanderssidesspook‘s Spook Month! Virgil’s costume is @fangirltothefullest‘s Moxei

Prompt: Costume Party

Fandom: Sander’s Sides

Paring: Moxiety

Words: 4,985

Summary: Virgil really loves Halloween, and parties. Especially Halloween parties. Patton really loves Virgil.

Tags/Warnings: Human AU, costumes, Virgil is non-binary, Remy is genderfluid, hence the costume

Enjoy!

AO3

fic masterlist

like what I do? buy me a coffee or GoFundMe

Reblogs > Likes

Taglist:

@hungry-red-panda

They just really liked Halloween.

God, it was going to be amazing.

Virgil hummed in agreement and closed their eyes, not realizing how tired they were as they almost instantly fell asleep.

“…About 9 hours a week.”

Being a writer was hard, and nobody understood.

It was a well-known fact that Virgil refused entry to anyone not in a costume, and this applied to their friends too.

“…Thanks Pat.” Their face was burning. How red were they right now? Could anyone see under the makeup?

They go to answer the door, Remy forcing his way inside almost as soon as the door’s open enough to slip in. “Guuuurl! Love what you did with the place, and that eyeshadow? So gothic chic.”

Scream went off for the 46th time that night, Mufasa stumbling back with a cry and slapping the ghost.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oh my god.”

“-applesolutely terrible!”

“Dance with me!”

“Not enough money in pumpkin carving, I checked.”

“Well, you should enter that, you’d definitely win!” Virgil smirks and rolls their eyes. “I’m the judge, Pat.” Patton blinks.

“Oh, right…. Do you wanna see mine?”

Will you be my boyfriend?

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders

6 notes · View notes