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sscieloz · 2 months ago

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Live your life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and still don’t have a lot to offer. Besides, there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them without even questioning.

Warnings: lots of plot w a little bit of smut in the end, as alwayss.

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: I tried following the MV in chronological order (except for that little deck scene bc I forgot abt it and when I went back to rewatch the MV I didn’t know where to squeeze it in so wtvr) and I’m kinda proud w the way it turned out ˆˆ I had lots of fun writing it so I hope you have fun reading it too!! Also I ❤️ you band!aespa let me be your fucktoy I can take the four of you. and not in a fight (probably in a fight too).

pt.1 | pt.2

“Is this legal?” Ningning asks, hugging the straps of her backpack. She tilts her head up to grasp at the place that would make their stay for this week of competition, its grand walls of concrete leaving her in awe.

You’ve been wiser this time: the cache of the band’s last performance made it possible for them to buy a roof rack for your brother’s— now basically theirs— van, which provided much more space for equipment and luggage.

“Not really.” The four of you say, in unison. With a deep sigh, you grab your belongings and walk towards the huge stairs that precede the nearly-abandoned place.

“It used to be a bathhouse,” Karina tells the maknae, holding her by the shoulders as they walk forward in hopes of making her less uneasy. “But now they use it as a vintage, low-cost hostel, or whatever. It’s always cramped during these times of the year, so we’re safe Ningnie. Don’t worry.”

The bathhouse is huge, although its dirty façade announces it’s been long since the place served its initial purpose. Grass grows around their feet, nearly disappearing into the wild, and there’s a great amount of dirt clinging to their shoes in the parking lot. Three floors are presented in front of them in all of their grandness, in a structure so massive the place could be misguided as a shopping mall.

Ningning gulps, although she doesn’t look relaxed in the slightest. Going up so many flights of stairs leaves you breathless, resting your hands on your knees as soon as you reach the entry lounge. The inside of the building is much different from what you expected: it’s filled with warm lights, and most importantly, it’s packed. Young people storm from side to side, hanging out in the corners or walking in rushed paces. The mixed voices bring a lively vibe to the open area, and you smile as you watch comforting chaos unravel. Such noise is enough proof that you're here: the girls are actually going to perform in the most important music competition in the country.

A hand on your shoulder grabs your attention as you reach for your camera, itching to record every second of the journey. Ningning’s voice makes you look up amidst getting lost searching for it in the middle of your stuff.

“Y/n.” She calls for you, staring at the ground to avoid making eye contact. Her shoulders are pressed downwards, announcing a hesitant posture much unlike herself. You hum in response, acknowledging her while still looking through your backpack. “Is it ok if we room together, this time?”

You watch as Ning brushes her hands repetitively, aware something’s wrong. Ningning might be the youngest of the band, but she’s usually mature, serious, and confident; It’s concerning to have her acting like that.

“Sure, unnie.” You smile at her, looking around as you squeeze her arm in hopes of offering her some reassurance. After making sure the other girls were busy with the check-in, and that there weren’t any eavesdroppers, you ask, “Are they back again? Have you been getting any sleep?”

Ningning’s nod, followed by a tired sigh, is enough of an answer. You know being so dependent on her friends bothers her deeply, even though you’ve told her countless times none of you mind.

It’s well-known among the girls that Ning struggles with night terrors. Being an independent and strong-willed child made her extremely talented, but also very lonely. Ningning’s parents invested in her and sent her away from her hometown, Harbin before the age of 10. From then on, the maknae found herself all alone in Korea, pushing through an excruciating routine at a shitty entertainment company where people barely knew her name. She never spoke, at first because she didn’t know Korean at all— but also because people rarely talked to her; only urging her through events and evaluations like a doll.

Or better, more like a ghost. The loneliness clung to her bones, making its way through her soul until she wasn’t even sure who she was without it.

Ever since then, her nightmares have kept her awake at night, trapped in a tangled mess of absurd dreams that deprive her of getting any rest. The hallucinations are so real she’s frequently urged out of sleep with a trembling body and heavy nausea, rushing to the nearest bathroom in complete panic.

Thankfully, not sleeping by herself is something Ningning found to be of much help, even if just a bit. So the girls take turns holding the youngest member close in their arms until her body gives up to exhaustion, still trembling.

That was before Ning had gotten it under control. With the help of a professional and her friends’ endless support, she eventually learned how to suppress her troubled thoughts. As months went by, her nightmares somehow did not scare her as much as they did when she was a little girl.

Or so she thought. Asking for help meant things were not looking good at all, which set up an alarm in the back of your mind.

You had to talk to Karina about it and let the leader know. Out of the three girls, she was the most protective of Ningning: the duo acted like sisters most of the time and had a tight bond.

“We’ll get rid of those nasty monsters, Ningie.” You tell her, resting your arm on her shoulders as you walk side by side to the elevator. “Fuck them. I’ll personally beat their asses for disturbing our little princess’s sleep.”

Ningning’s laugh fills up the small corridor, and as she clings to your body, you’re reminded of how small she is. The maknae trusts you; it’s something you feel in the way she reaches out for your embrace, allowing herself to be vulnerable even if not for long.

“So,” Karina says, staring at the four of you with a serious face. “I know we all want to enjoy the festival too, and we absolutely should. But it’s late, and it’s a week-long competition, so I say we take it easy and rest today.”

The leader's words reverberate through the elevator, her assertive tone leaving it clear that it was a rather strong-willed suggestion as you all nod.

“We’ve worked hard for this opportunity.” Minjeong agrees, leaning onto the big mirror that gave the impression that the elevator was much bigger than its actual size. “Let’s not fuck it up. We can have fun later anyway.”

“Our first performance is tomorrow, but we have a bunch of interviews scheduled before that. We must be well prepared and rested.” Giselle adds, while they get onto their floor and start walking toward their assigned rooms.

Somehow, the girls always manage to get caught up with something just minutes before getting in the car for their road trip, which meant you arrived later than expected. At nearly 4 AM, everyone was tired, even though the adrenaline of being part of something as big as The Box was enough for them to be a bit jumpy, eyes darting around to capture everything dimmed possible.

The rooms were better, this time: there wasn’t any dust and the place looked fairly comforting, compared to the last place you stayed at. You drop your backpack and your small suitcase onto the ground without much care.

“Goodnight, cuties. See you in the morning.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes as you throw yourself on the bed, extra tired from being the designated driver for the entire journey. Giselle, Winter, and Karina wave faintly, too, making their way to their room at a quick pace.

Ningning smiles and watches as you stretch yourself, exhausted. She’s quick to drop her stuff and pull her single bed, although it doesn’t move further than an inch. “Y/n… help me join the beds, please?”

“Right, right. Of course.” With some effort, the two of you manage to move the two beds together into the center of the room, and you relax for a bit while Ningning occupies the bathroom. The soft sheets that welcome your face are much different from the leather seats of your car, and the change is well welcomed— so much you let out a deep sigh, relieved now that you’re finally able to relax.

After changing into your pajamas, you stare at the ceiling and you wait for Ningning to hop out of the shower and join you in bed before falling asleep yourself. However, the last thing your mind registers are the soft sounds of Yizhuo’s shower before sleep takes over your body and you lose a short-lived battle to unconsciousness.

—

Life is anything but peaceful when you give up a normal, ordinary life to live off of music. Not that it’s a bad thing: if anything, the thrill of not having a routine grants to the girls a type of freedom that only comes with art.

That’s all Karina can think about as the five of you hang out at a big, open field. There’s a fence where you and Ningning sit, and the cool breeze messes up her long, pitch-black hair. More than freedom, the leader’s chest also burns with a deep sense of accomplishment.

Within a blink, she’s at the bathhouse’s rooftop and this time her bandmates chat lively by the place’s enormous sign. It’s nighttime, and a different kind of unsettlement takes place inside her rebel heart this time, one Karina feels deep in her bones.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to dwell much: her senses prove to be right almost immediately when they’re struck by a sea of shooting stars. They fly by so fast Karina barely sees them, making their way through with such strength she’s pushed onto the ground. There’s only enough time for her to grab a single star, grasping the small light within her hands as strongly as she can.

But just as fast as it happened, the storm is gone. Karina looks up to talk to you and the girls about it, but you’re nowhere to be seen. She frowns, realizing she’s left all alone, under the darkness of a starless sky.

That’s when she wakes up: breathless, trembling badly as she grabs her neck in hopes of making more air run through her lungs. Despite the cool night, her body is drenched in sweat. Yet, the oldest member can’t help but sigh in relief once she looks up beside her and finds Minjeong peacefully asleep. The leader looks to the other bed, where Giselle’s faint snores can be heard, her mouth hanging slightly open as saliva drools onto the bassist’s pillow.

Karina’s safe. She’s with her girls, in the comfort of their room.

Yet the loneliness she felt still echoes through her body, hurting enough to draw small tears from her eyes before she acknowledges it. It had been such an empty moment… to look up and not see any of the people she loved and cherished deeply.

It’s something Karina decides she never wants to feel again.

“Mhm…” Minjeong stirs, her eyes half open as she stretches her arms out. Karina’s noises probably woke her up— the girl has never been a deep sleeper anyway. “What are you doing awake?”

A few seconds go by, and Karina stays silent. The answer comes when the blonde is almost falling asleep again, so low Minjeong thinks she’s imagining it. “You left me there, all alone. All of you.”

“We… who?” Minjeong’s voice is scrappy with confusion. She looks at the leader, scratching her head as she watches Karina get up. “Why would we do that? We’re literally right here, unnie.”

Minjeong’s attempts to understand her friends fail. If anything, she’s bluntly ignored by Karina, who shakes Giselle gently until she manages to get the Japanese girl up, although clearly in a zombie-like state, still barely conscious.

The weather was still a bit hot by the time they arrived, so the girls agreed to leave the old, arched windows open for the night. Now, the wind had messed up the leader’s wavy hair, and there were little eye-bags under her eyes from waking up so abruptly. As a result of such an intense dream, Karina’s lips trembled and her body lacked its usual strength, which was noticeable by her limp arms. She looks fragile, clearly disturbed by a train of thoughts echoing inside her mind.

And the way the leader stares at Minjeong so helplessly… It’s the reason why she doesn’t question when Karina offers her hand to help the blonde out of bed, in complete silence. One that remains until the leader unlocks your and Ningning’s room with her spare card, walking onto the bed with light steps— as if she was taken by the wind itself.

Your bedroom is not as big as theirs, and the improvised bed is still rather small, but Karina makes it fit. Her hand is keen on Giselle’s back, urging the girl back to bed as the leader lies her down once again. Like in a puzzle, Minjeong squeezes herself between your arched back and Ning’s body, careful to not wake up either of you.

“Feeling better?” She asks Karina, who watches the scene with a small smile. Minejong’s heart is filled with warmth at the girl’s pretty face, as she closes her eyes once again.

“Much better.” The vocalist murmurs, calm and collected. Being tangled with her girls at one of the country’s most successful music events is enough to dissipate her previous loneliness. There’s nothing else she needed but the five of you. “I’m no longer alone, now.”

She’s complete.

—

The Box is an event created for Companies from all over the country to show off their assets and make as much profit as possible—and they make sure to capitalize on every second of it, which is as much of a burden as it is an opportunity for its participants. The girls had interviews, outfit changes, and makeup booths provided by sponsors, guaranteed as long as they shot commercials and launched a few good words about their brands.

Held in a big, open area, the place brings goosebumps to Karina’s stomach, reminiscing too much of her dream as the same clouds wind on the sky, blocking the sun’s path. Just as she had done moments prior, you look up too, frowning. The lack of light makes the day seem gloomier than usual, and a single droplet of rain would result in an atrocious, muddy day.

And that would be a disaster, for sure.

“So,” After recording the stage they’d perform at in just a few hours, you turn around and nearly shove your camera on Giselle’s face. “Enlighten us, Gigi: why is the festival named The Box if the main stage is actually a big fucking losangle?”

Giselle’s tone is condescending as she adjusts her perfectly arranged bangs, giving you a dirty look before answering. “Y/n, my love.” She redirects the camera to capture both of your faces, smearing your cheek with her lip gloss. “You just have to accept some things: like the weather, time… and The Box’s setup. It’s how it’s always been, so let’s not dwell on that matter, okay? Thanks.”

“Very well, then. You heard her.” You nod back at the camera, capturing the massive stage for a few more seconds before pausing the recording.

Giselle’s passive-aggressiveness was one of her hottest traits, and you loved to watch her boss people around. Which she always made sure of doing, whenever she had the chance to.

The Japanese girl giggles at your words, nudging you gently. Not much further from you, Karina and Ningning stand in a big line for something popular dish. You wave to them, and Giselle straightens her posture, following your stare as she grunts.

“So, you and Jimin, huh.” She asks, plucking at the grass with her shoes. It’s obvious she’s trying her best to sound nonchalant and not make a big deal out of it.

It was no secret that you were devoted to Karina, surrendering yourself with as much as a whisper from her. Still, it was amusing to you how shy Giselle seemed with her question. Her hesitation was sweet, so cute it draws a smile from your face.

“Oh… well, yeah.” You shrug, not at all ashamed of her hidden inquiry. “She needs someone to warm up her bed.” You eye Giselle attentively, studying the older girl’s body language before adding, “I can help you with that too if you’d like. I know Jimin unnie wouldn’t mind.”

Your answer catches her off guard, her eyes wide from your straightforwardness. You’re nearly teasing her for being so shocked when she laughs, shaking her head at your straightforwardness. It’s Giselle, after all: the girl has such a flirty nature you’d be surprised if she didn’t give you a run for your money.

“We’ll see... You’re sure one of a kind, Y/n. That you are.” She answers, with a sultry tone before gently squeezing your arm and vanishing from your sight.

That is enough for you. The Japanese girl’s gorgeous looks and confident nature make her so desirable and hot— truly an it girl, often leading the group to try out new music styles and different types of choreographies. Giselle is always pushing herself outside her comfort zone.

It’s good that she knows you’re also willing to try anything she’d like, too.

Brushing that subject off your mind, you take some time to dive into the festival, just as curious as the girls were: the place is still beautiful, despite the weather. Its lively atmosphere is enchanting, and there is so much happening: from bands singing on minor stages to dance performances not much further from where you stand. Everyone seems eager to participate, and you’re just as excited to watch everything at once.

This event is also a great opportunity for you, considering you’re still attending university— hoping to major in Media Arts in a year or so. Even though you spend most of the time following the girls around, your passion for filmmaking and photography is also one of the reasons you’re so committed to recording everything your eyes meet. You plan on making this documentary into your final presentation of the year and submitting it to one of your main classes.

So you record everything: making a full turn to capture your entire experience. You’re so committed to your task that you don’t even notice Minjeong’s frame behind you, the blonde girl not making an effort to move such thing as an inch from out of your way.

The two of you collide with each other so roughly you have to hold onto the girl’s tiny frame with your free hand to prevent her from a having dirty fall. Minjeong gives you an ugly look, impatiently wiping the dirt from her plaid skirt. She’s judgy, as always— not a day goes by where the blonde doesn’t give you a hard time.

Although you weren’t exactly peaceful to her, either.

“Do you ever wear a bra?” She mumbles, annoyed. Minjeong’s fingers press the tip of her nose bridge and she closes her eyes as if dealing with you was enough to drain all of her energy.

“Why are you looking anyway?” You’re quick to snap back, crossing your arms over your chest.

Choosing comfort over fashion was something you’d always do, and today was no different. Your look for the day was rather basic but perfect for someone who’d be walking around the entire time: a pair of jeans and a plain white tank top that made your Aespa badge visible to anyone who took a quick look at you. However, that little show of hers has made the dirt that clung onto the fabric attract attention to your breasts, highlighting the way your pierced nipples peeked through. It had only been a few weeks since you and Giselle got them done, so you were still a bit hypersensitive.

Not that you minded, anyway. Minjeong would be a jerk regardless of that: the blonde made her life’s purpose to annoy the shit out of you, and she’s very committed on doing so.

Proving your point, Winter scoffs, all annoyed.

“You always make this shit on purpose, don’t you?” You stare at her, confused, and it seems like she’s had enough. Rolling her eyes, Minjeong brushes past you, nearly dragging you by the shoulders as she stomps away. “Whatever. Whore.”

Minjeong is so rude. Undeniably so, with an insanely stubborn temper. Her mood changes quickly, and it is hard to tell if she genuinely hates you or if it is just some kind of playful banter.

Not that you cared much, honestly. There were many important things for you to worry about, like the amazing festival happening at the moment. You’d deal with that nightmare of a girl some other time.

Instead of allowing the petite girl to disturb your mind, you decide to walk around by yourself too— despite preferring to be surrounded by the girls at all times, you were cool to be on your own.

You were deeply committed to making a masterpiece out of your clips. If the work you handed in was good enough, then perhaps your professor would overlook the number of absences on your attendance sheet and give you a nice grade.

After walking around for a few minutes, a certain stage catches your attention: the structure is small and curiously held like a boxing ring, where nine girls sing and dance in beautiful harmony. The space is so far from the center of the festival its last rounds of chairs nearly drag onto the woods that surround the place.

The girls performing are all dressed in dark pants, white crop tops, and black ties, and they’re incredibly in synch while still making complicated moves. Their voices are sweet, and so is the music that flows to your ears: it’s a cover of one of your favorite songs, KARA’s Mr.

Your eyes go straight to the sign that hangs in front of the stage, looking for said group’s name. Thankfully, it’s easy to find, both in Hangul and Romanized.

Fromis9.

The nine girls’ bright stage presence fills up the area, and it amazes you how coordinated they are, not one outshining the other despite being so many. No lines are stolen in the song; instead, they add to each other beautifully, reminding you of your girls. The contrast is fascinating, from Aespa’s four-member band to those strangers, who sing cheerful songs like this will be the last happy summer of their lives.

You’re enchanted by them, truthfully. Not only talented, the girls seem genuinely sweet, as they spin and jump around to hype up the dead crowd. And oh, they’re stunning: each one with striking features, ones that surely seem like they’ve been taken straight out of a fairytale.

You make sure to record their entire performance, as well as the little playful moments reserved for interacting with their fans and supporters. Soon enough, the song ends, leaving the group breathless but happy. You watch as the girls bow and take turns passing small water bottles around, tired from giving their all on stage.

A few of them start a small discourse, although you don’t pay enough attention to grasp the meaning of their words. You’re too busy staring at one of them instead, hiding behind your camera so she doesn’t see how enamored you are.

The girl is small, but her slim waist and toned muscles announce she must spend most of her free time at the gym. An energetic pink-haired girl clings to one of her arms, providing a clear contrast to her long, pitch-black hair, but she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest: if anything, she hugs the energetic girl back, laughing and she twirls her friend around.

Luckily for you, there’s a big paper clasped in front of her shirt, just like every artist who is currently performing and competing at The Box. You search for her name with expectation, just like you’ve done with her group’s name.

Hers say, Saerom.

A beautiful name for an enchanting girl.

However, it’s her face that surprises you the most. She’s beautiful, of course— stunningly so, but so is everyone at this festival: something expected for a place with such a high concentration of artists, models, and people in the entertainment industry in general. But as you look into her high cheekbones and sharp jawline, you’re surprised to find such kind eyes staring back at you. Saerom’s eyes provide her soft, almost ethereal look as she nods to you. It’s a faint action, one a distracted eye would barely notice once she moves back to the middle of the stage with her bandmates, yet you’d never miss it. There’s no way she wouldn’t stand out, despite her plain outfit.

You could stare at her for hours.

Although you’re incapable of doing so: in a blink, steady hands grab your camera, and your arms are urged down so fast you nearly let it fall on the ground. Nothing disastrous happens, thanks to your steady grip and good reflex, but your vision is blocked by a serious Karina, fuming as she stares angrily at you.

“What are you doing, Y/n?” The leader’s cocky, angry voice is something you only hear when she’s feeling intimidated or when she wants to be petty, which is unusual for the occasion. Why would she be so defensive towards you?

Karina usually yaps her heart out until your ears hurt from her complaints. It’s a normal thing for her to do, whenever she’s pissed. However, she doesn’t say anything this time, clearly waiting— demanding an explanation.

So you lift your camera, playfully poking her in a failed attempt of easing the grumpiness out of her. “I’m making The Box’s documentary as my final presentation.” You stay on your tiptoes, trying to get a hold of the view Karina is blocking so confidently, but it’s useless by now: the performance is over, and the Fromis9 members have already retreated backstage. “For that class I told you about, remember?”

Karina rolls her eyes, ignoring your explanation as she directs you in the opposite direction. With a resolute tone, she brushes off the matter. “Whatever. Listen, Y/n: you should only focus on us, your band. There’s no need for you to look at anyone else.”

Oh, Karina’s fuming. It’s easy to tell, from the way she refuses to meet your face to the red that paints her cheeks. You giggle, enjoying her subtle possessiveness.

Truth be told, you thrived on being reassured just as much as the girls did. The only difference was that you made an immense effort to hide how much it aroused you, well aware they’d use it as an advantage.

Besides, there was a bit of truth behind her words: the girls were the only ones you truly felt connected to; they were yours just as much as you were theirs, and you didn’t feel like you needed to meet new people.

“Of course, Jimin unnie.” You nod, walking next to her as you turn your camera off and place it back in your backpack. “Aespa is the only band worth looking at, anyway.”

Karina blossoms under your praise, smiling brightly as she kisses you gently, her irritation gone. “Good girl. Now let’s go to the main stage. There are only two hours until our performance, and the girls are starting to get ready.”

You’d like to tease her back a bit but now wasn’t the time. Not when the band’s nerves were all over the place, nervous they’d fuck up the opportunity of their lives. No, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You’d be their anchor, peace, and most faithful supporter as you always were, ready to remind the girls of their true potential.

With that, you and Karina walk back to the main stage with synchronized steps, and the moment with Saerom is brushed off to the back of your mind.

You've probably imagined the entire thing, anyway. There was nothing to wonder.

—

“Hello, girls. Are you Aespa?” The staff asks, entering the room with his eyes glued to the list in his hands. After the five of you nod, he adds, with a comforting smile, “You’re on in 30. Come after you finish your makeup and clothes so we can start the soundcheck and set up your microphones.”

With another nod, you fall into a nervous silence once again. The girls have waited for this opportunity for so long; the crowd’s heated screams could be heard from where you stood, only adding to the girl’s expectations. It was the first time they performed in front of so many people, let alone at such a big and renowned festival.

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Giselle mumbles, softening her necklace as if it were suffocating her. Her breaths were uneven, her eyes fixated on the ground.

Karina smiles softly at the girl. As the leader, she knows it’s her duty to look composed and relaxed, to tranquilize her bandmates. “You’re not going to throw up, Gigi. You just need some air. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

The leader grabs Giselle by the arm, urging her up. As they go through the door, Ningning rushes to follow their steps.

“I need to breathe too.” She gulps, not even sparing you a glance as she runs to catch up with her friends.

The nerves were striking, and they needed to look composed so they’d give their all on stage, as always.

You and Minjeong were the only ones left backstage, which allowed you to take some time to study her better. The blonde was perfectly still on the couch, with a rigid posture and hands clasped tightly on her lap. She looked composed, almost bored, as she always did— but you know her better.

Minjeong’s muscles were visibly tense, and her left leg was bouncing so much you were afraid it’d be chopped off from her body. She’s usually so composed, rarely giving a fuck about anything in her life. Whatever it was, the most Minjeong would do was roll her eyes at it or give it a nasty, rude response. Nothing else.

Seeing her bottle up her feelings like that is something that leaves you deeply uncomfortable. The way she deals with her emotions is none of your business of course, and it’s not like she ever talks about how she’s feeling with anyone anyway.

Minjeong rarely talks about herself; not to you or her bandmates. She’s simply someone very private when it comes to that matter. It’s something the blonde struggles with— understanding and acknowledging her emotions are not things that come to her naturally, so Minjeong would often carry her burdens alone until the feelings get so heavy she explodes, taking it off on someone who has nothing to do with whatever it is she’s going through.

Although it surprises you to see how deeply caring the girl can be. Minjeong, who knows Karina loves apple-flavored candy and sorts them out for her leader, even though they all think it’s gross. Minjeong, whose personal space is sacred, allows Ningning to be as clingy as she wants, aware the maknae longs for physical contact after being deprived of it so much as a child. Minjeong, who is the most competitive person you’ve ever met, but lets Giselle beat her at deck games whenever they notice the Japanese girl is feeling down.

Minjeong, who despises you thoroughly, but snuck a new SD card into your purse after seeing you struggle with your camera for a few days.

You didn’t want her to make her big debut feeling like a nervous wreck. She needs to relax, and not be so tense otherwise she won’t do good in her performance.

And you know just what to do.

With a sigh, you drop your hand from the doorknob and turn to her, leaning on the wall to take a better look at her.

“You’re nervous.” You state, smirking at the sight of her face growing red—the blonde girl, usually so collected… oh, how she hates to be caught.

Most importantly, Minjeong hates you can always see right through her.

“Well no shit, Sherlock.”

Walking towards her with small, unhurried steps, you sit right next to her, crossing your legs as you lean onto her.

“I can help you with that.” You whisper to her, staring at her mouth. “Do you trust me?”

Minjeong scrunches her nose but doesn’t move away. Her answer, however, comes immediately— not an ounce of hesitation coming from her mouth. “Not at all.”

“Good.” You cup her face. “Wise girl.”

Leaning in, you capture Minjeong’s lips in a messy kiss. Despite her fiery personality, she tastes sweet, and you savor the strawberry essence of her lip gloss. Kissing Minjeong is addictive, yet you can’t seem to get enough of her. You lick her lips and devour her until your lungs scream for air, and the two of you get off each other when there’s no air and you’re both left desperate and breathless.

Minjeong’s blonde hair flows freely, her scrutinizing stare forgotten the moment the two of you got so close your breaths entwined. For a moment, you don’t do anything but stare at each other, as you look for any signs of what she’d like to do next. You’re nearly sure she’d tell you to get lost until she grabs your neck and pulls you close, kissing you for the second time.

“You’re completely insufferable, Y/n.” She murmurs in between the kiss as her thumb brushes down your neck. Even though there’s a faint pressure, her touch is almost soothing, urging you down to your knees. “Now, do more.”

You’re more than eager to follow her wishes, urging her pants and underwear down in a swift motion. Minjeong’s pussy is so pretty, all pink, swollen, and glistening, and you lick your lips with anticipation. The blonde girl lies comfortably on the couch as she spreads her folds with two of her fingers— showing herself to your hungry gaze.

“How do I look right now, Y/n?” Her tone is drenched with mockery as you squeeze her thighs, drawing a shiver from her. Your hands trace tiny circles on her milky skin, and you choose to ignore her; too focused on her beautiful body on display for you.

Minjeong’s free hand goes to grip your hair, annoyed by your lack of response. “Fine, then. Do you want to know how you look?”

Her malicious smile, much different from her delicate features, is what makes you shiver at her concentration. Giving her thighs faint bites, you ask, “Enlighten me, Minjeong.”

“Like a whore.” Her grip tightens and you can’t help but bite harder this time. “Hey! See, I’ve always said you’re just a cheap who—“

Minjeong is silenced by your warm tongue on her pussy, licking a big stripe of her sex, as you go all the way up to suck on her clit as well. Her high-pitched moans are like music to your ears, and you take turns sucking her sensitive bud and letting out some lewd, loud sounds as you nearly make out with her pussy.

“Do you want my fingers, pretty girl?” You mumble, staring at her through your lashes.

Minjeong looks like a painting, beautiful with her mouth half-opened and a thin cover of sweat covering her brows. She nods frantically, urging you even closer.

Greedy, that’s what she is.

“Yes, please.” It’s the first time you’ve ever seen use her manners, so you’re quick to comply. “Fuck, Y/n…”

Two of your fingers enter her cunt without any resistance as you thrust hard and fast. She bucks her hips to add to the stimulation, and you’re graced with the glorious view of her abs, thankful she chose a tiny crop top for the day. You want to see her tits, too, but it’s not like you’re in any position to demand anything— not while Minjeong uses you as a toy, rocking onto your mouth as her moans grow louder and louder.

You feel her walls tensing up, and her toes curl as she tells you, “Y/n, I’m going t—“

“Cum for me, Minjeongie.” You give her clit one last, harsh suck, as her breathing becomes even quicker. “That’s it, let go.”

Minjeong follows your commands, reaching her orgasm with a high-pitched moan as she squeezes your head in between her thighs. Her body trembles from the stimulation, and you keep your fingers inside her walls until she’s calmed down enough that her screams are reduced to heavy breaths. You lick her clean, then, careful to not touch her clit as you eat her out for a few other moments.

What’s most surprising to you, though, is the delicacy in her touch as she urges you up, tasting herself on your lips.

“Sweet.” She giggles, before grabbing your tank top and pushing you off her. Minjeong’s obsessed with oversized jeans, and her current ones look huge on her tiny waist as she takes her time with buttoning up. “I really needed that, Y/n. Thanks.”

You don’t bother to hide a cocky smile as you nod, shrugging.

“You’re going own that fucking stage today, Minjeong. All of you.” It’s what they were born to do. There isn’t a slight possibility of them not doing their absolute best on stage.

“I know.” Minjeong looks around, bouncing back and forth with her hands on her jeans’ back pocket. After a pause, she adds, with a quiet tone, “You’re going to be there, right? At the front row. Recording and all. It’s one of the only things you’re useful for.”

You smile, understanding the hidden meaning behind her bored tone. “Of course, I will, dumbass. I’ll be there with you, as always.”

You’d always be there for your girls: cheering, supporting, or helping the band with anything they needed.

Karina, Ningning, Giselle, and Minjeong were not sure of when you had become such an important figure in their lives, but there was something they all agreed on: they’ve grown too fond of you now. It was impossible to let you go.

Not that you had any intentions of leaving their side, anyway.

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fullsandwichmiracle · 5 months ago

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Welcome to Amsterdam | Part one: Festival

Paring: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: Performing at a festival with your friend and meeting a blond man who was also performing at the festival.

Warnings: None really, mostly background.

Word count: 2,5K+

You are packing for a trip to the Netherlands, having been invited by a friend to join her on stage. You've been making music for about three years, but this will be your first festival in another country. The plan is to stay at your friend's house in Amsterdam, close to the festival venue. Excitement and nervousness blend as you double-check your equipment and personal items, ensuring you haven't forgotten anything important.

As you finish packing for the week, you hear a notification on your phone. It's a message from your friend.

Sara: How's everything going and don't forget to bring your laptop so we can make some music.

You: Thanks, I almost forgot. I'm going to the airport soon. I will update you before I fly off.

Nice, see you soon then! <3

After packing your laptop Sara reminded you of, you then scanned the apartment to make sure you didn't miss anything else. Once satisfied, you dragged your suitcases to the elevator and ordered an Uber to take you to the airport. You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation for the adventure ahead.

Upon arrival at the airport, you quickly grabbed a cart to help with your luggage and headed to the check-in counter. Despite having a lot of luggage ,clothes for the week, a stage outfit, some clubbing outfits, and swimwear, everything went smoothly. You felt prepared for anything the week might throw at you. The buzz of the airport and the chatter of travelers around you only heightened your excitement.

After passing through security, you found a bar and sat down to enjoy a much-needed airport beer, savoring the moment and the anticipation of the journey ahead. As you sipped your drink, you checked your phone to confirm your gate and departure time, knowing your plane would be leaving in 30 minutes. You felt a mixture of excitement and calm, ready to take on whatever this trip had in store.

I'm at the airport now. Everything went smoothly and it looks like the plane is leaving as planned.

Great. Meet you there.

You finished your beer and headed to the gate as boarding began. Finding your seat, you settled in, ready for the flight to Amsterdam. The anticipation of the upcoming festival kept your spirits high.

The trip was quick, but you managed to squeeze in a short nap, feeling refreshed as you neared your destination.

As you exited the airport, you saw Sara waiting for you with a big smile and a welcoming hug. The excitement of seeing her and starting this adventure together made you feel even more energized for the week ahead.

"Hiiii Y/N! So nice to see you irl”

“Hello Sara! Nice to finally meet you too.”

You both hugged before she helped you load all the luggage into her car.

The festival was three days long, and you were scheduled to play on the second day, Friday. Today was Wednesday, and you and Sara decided to take it easy, resting from your flight and gearing up for the first day of the festival. You spent the day indoors, working on a new song together. Having collaborated over the phone before, it felt natural to create music side by side.

By the time you decided to call it quits for the day, it was close to midnight. You had completed a chorus, rough lyrics, and a basic beat. Though it wasn’t a finished song, you were both surprised and pleased with how quickly you managed to put it together.

After saying goodnight, you went to bed, excited for the first day of the festival.

Sara burst into your room, yelling, "Are you ready to rumble?" She jumped on top of you, playfully hitting you with a pillow, laughter echoing through the room.

Despite only knowing each other online until now, you and Sara had developed a strong bond, feeling more like lifelong friends than just virtual ones.

You both got dressed, looking forward to a day packed with activities. You opted for a see-through top over a black bikini, paired with a long jean skirt. Meanwhile, Sara dressed in a black bikini and oversized basketball shorts.

You wrap yourself in the flag of your country and head out the door, ready to represent your nation proudly at the festival. The vibrant colors of the flag flutter in the breeze, catching the attention of passersby as you make your way towards the festival.

Arriving at the festival grounds, Sara handed you two wristbands—one for guests and another for your performance tomorrow. You quickly put them on, feeling the excitement build as you headed inside. Despite the early hour, the atmosphere was already alive with bustling crowds and vibrant music echoing through the air. The anticipation of what the day held in store added an electric buzz to the scene.

You began the day by heading to the food carts with Sara to grab something to eat, both realizing in your excitement that breakfast had been forgotten. The enticing aroma of freshly cooked food and the wide variety of options made choosing difficult, but eventually, you both settled on delicious fresh sandwiches.

Walking around with your newly acquired food, you headed towards one of the stages to enjoy the music.

As the day flew by, both of you grew increasingly exhausted. Opting to head home early, you agreed not to expend all your energy, knowing you had a performance scheduled for tomorrow.

When you arrived home, both of you changed into more comfortable clothes and snuggled up on the couch. With a movie playing in the background, you resumed working on the song you started the previous day. The day filled with music had left you both inspired, eager to continue creating together.

It was well past midnight when you finally finished the song. Though it wasn't quite ready for release, both of you agreed to play it at your set tomorrow. After practicing it once more, you headed back to bed, both of you in need of some sleep.

This day, you woke up to Sara playing one of your songs at full volume as she marched through your room, singing along enthusiastically.

"Todays the day," Sara declared as she plopped down next to you in bed, creating a dip from the new weight.

She was always so joyful, her energy filling the room and rousing you from sleep, even though you were tired from the previous day.

Today, you chose a laid-back ensemble: a pink hoodie adorned with your stage name, paired with shorts concealed beneath. Sara sported a similar outfit as the day before, switching her black bikini for a pink one to complement your attire.

With your stage outfit packed in a bag, you headed back to the festival, entering through a special artist entrance. Finding Sara's trailer, you unloaded all your belongings before venturing out into the festival area.

You watched several performances before making your way back to the trailer to prepare for your own stage appearance. On the way, you and Sara sang along to songs you'd heard earlier, dancing with excitement coursing through your veins. Caught up in the moment, you spun around and accidentally bumped into someone.

"OMG, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you," you apologized, turning to face a tall, blond man with piercing blue eyes, dressed in a white tank top and black baggy jeans.

Noticing how close you were, you quickly backed up, apologizing once more.

The man chuckled. "It's fine. You seemed lost in another world."

He extended his hand towards you. "I'm Joost. And you are Y/S/N?"

You shook his hand. "That's my stage name. My real name is Y/N."

You found yourself lost in a trance staring into his eyes, until Sara stretched out her hand to greet Joost, breaking the spell.

"Hi, I'm Sara. Nice to meet you, Joost," she said with a friendly smile, shaking his hand. "But we have to get going; we're on stage in an hour." She glanced at you, her eyes full of excitement and determination for the performance ahead. She grabbed your hand and swiftly pulled you away from Joost, eager to focus on the upcoming performance. You exchanged a quick glance with Sara.

"He was so hot," you exclaimed as soon as you stepped into the trailer, flopping down on the couch beside Sara, who chuckled knowingly. "You know, you stared into his eyes for like a whole minute," she added, making you feel a mix of embarrassment and amusement. Sara grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You got ready, changing into your stage outfit: a fluffy pink tank top paired with a matching bucket hat and a short jean skirt featuring your stage name on the back. Sara opted for the same bucket hat and a pink jersey dress adorned with her name. After doing your makeup, you both took a shot to calm your nerves before making your way to the stage.

Ten minutes before you were set to go on stage, you peeked out from behind the stage curtain at the already large crowd that had gathered, feeling a rush of excitement and nervous anticipation. The energy of the audience was palpable, adding to your eagerness to perform but also to your nerves.

One of Sara's songs began playing, and she stepped out onto the stage to cheers from the crowd. It was a song you had collaborated on with her, and as your part approached, you dashed onto the stage, eliciting an ecstatic response from the audience. Performing outside your own country, you weren't sure how the crowd would react, but their enthusiastic response fueled your excitement and calmed your nerves.

As you finished the first song, Sara screamed into the mic, "Helloooo, Netherlands! I'm Sara, and this is my amazing friend, Y/S/N!" The crowd erupted into cheers once again. "Do you guys wanna hear a new unreleased song?" Sara continued, prompting another wave of screams from the crowd. "I hope you like it!" she added before the beat kicked in.

You both ran around, energetically jumping on the stage while singing along to the new unreleased song, the crowd joining in on the chorus as it repeated. As the song reached its finale, you both sat down at the edge of the stage, singing the last part while gazing out over the crowd. While scanning the audience, you noticed Joost standing in the VIP section, attentively watching your performance. A rush of adrenaline mixed with a sense of accomplishment swept over you as you locked eyes with him, adding an unexpected thrill to the moment.

The next song was one of yours, featuring more introspective lyrics and a mellower beat. You and Sara swayed along with the music, seated at the edge of the stage, singing in harmony. The crowd joined in, swaying and singing along throughout the entire song. Throughout the song, you kept glancing over at Joost, who was also swaying and singing along with the music.

As you finished the song, you blew a kiss into the crowd. Rising from your seats, you and Sara prepared for the next song, its upbeat tempo filling the air once more. The rest of the set proceeded smoothly, and every now and then, you stole glances to see if Joost was still watching.

As the set drew to a close, you and Sara thanked everyone for joining, blowing kisses and waving to the cheering crowd before stepping off stage, feeling a mix of exhilaration and gratitude for the unforgettable experience.

Heading back to your trailer, you spotted Joost in the distance, slowly making his way towards you. A smile spread across your face as you anticipated what he might say about the performance.

"You guys were amazing!" he exclaimed as he reached where you were standing next to your trailer.

"Thank you," you and Sara said in unison, smiling gratefully at Joost's compliment.

"I'm going to perform on the big stage in like an hour if you wanna watch," he said before heading into his trailer.

You and Sara headed into your trailer, quickly chugging some water and sitting down to catch your breath. You relaxed in the trailer until Joost's set was about to begin in five minutes. Both of you jumped up and hurried to the big stage and into the VIP section still in your stage clothes.

The crowd was double the size of yours, and the atmosphere buzzed with excitement as people chanted Joost's name in anticipation of his imminent appearance on stage. You and Sara found yourselves caught up in the electric energy pulsating through the air.

Joost burst onto the stage, running and jumping as the beat of one of his songs filled the air. He greeted the crowd with infectious enthusiasm before diving into his set. His energy was palpable as he danced and jumped to the rhythm, and the crowd mirrored his excitement. You and Sara joined in, singing along and dancing to his music, thoroughly enjoying the experience. His stage presence was mesmerizing, drawing everyone into his performance.

As his set ended, the crowd erupted into cheers as Joost exited the stage. Once he had left, you and Sara hurried out from the VIP section, eager to catch Joost and express how much you enjoyed his performance.

Unable to find him amidst the crowd, you and Sara decided to head back to your trailer to freshen up. Squeezing onto the couch together, you snuggled close while watching some TikTok's from the festival on your phone.

You heard a knock on the door, and Sara yelled, "It's open!" not wanting to get up. The door creaked open slowly, and Joost walked into the trailer, finding you and Sara cuddled up together.

"How cute," he remarked as he squeezed onto the edge of the couch. "I saw you during my set. What did you guys think?"

"It was amazing, the crowd loved you," you said, sitting up to make space for Joost on the couch. Sara joined in, "Yeah, you were incredible," as she also shifted to a sitting position. The three of you settled comfortably, the trailer now buzzing with a relaxed yet excited energy as you recounted your favorite moments from his set. Joost's smile widened with each compliment, and he shared some behind-the-scenes stories that had you and Sara laughing.

"I'm going to an after-party with some other performers. Do you guys want to join?" he asked casually, placing his hand on your thigh, making your body shiver.

"Yes, sounds so fun," Sara answered quickly, and you nodded along, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation.

Joost gave your thigh a gentle squeeze before standing up and handing you a piece of paper with an address and time on it. "Great, see you guys soon," he said with a smile as he headed out the door.

Once he was gone, Sara turned to you with a wide grin. "This is going to be epic," she said, her excitement palpable. You couldn't help but agree, your mind already racing with the possibilities of the night ahead.

Packing up everything and throwing on your hoodie over your stage outfit, you and Sara exited the trailer and headed home to get ready for the after-party.

Once you arrived home, you jumped into the shower to freshen up. Back in your room, you rummaged through your suitcases to find your prettiest pair of underwear, hoping you might get lucky. Sitting down on your bed, you pondered over what to wear, excitement bubbling up inside you.

You decided to stick with the same skirt from the stage since it made you feel empowered and pretty, pairing it with a pink top that showed off plenty of cleavage. You walked out to the living room where Sara sat on her phone, wearing a loose black dress. She turned around and whistled. "Damn, somebody's getting laid tonight!" You laughed, and the both of you headed out, excited for the night ahead.

To be continued….

Part two

#joost smut #joost klein smut #joost klein x you #joost x you #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfiction #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfic #joost klein imagine

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irinaseverinka · 2 years ago

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Functional Infant cribs

A set of cribs for infants for my previously released nursery's sets. All cribs can be equipped with a functional mobile.

The set includes:

1 travel crib Stroller You can put the in the luggage and put it on the street. You can also put a baby in the stroller if you have the 'Invisible Crib mod'

8 addition cribs for kits: 'Evelina nursery', 'Heart kidsroom' 'Jenny nursery', 'Layra nursery', 'Lily nursery', 'Stephanie nursery', 'Victoria nursery'

DOWNLOAD TSR

#ts4 #sims4 #sims4cc #ts4cc #ts4 download #ts4 furniture #severinka #ts4 objects #ts4 custom content #tsr #thesimsresource #ts4 kids cc #ts4 infants

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hansensgirl · 10 months ago

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summary. | Mr. Hansen himself makes an appearance. (based on the aesthetic of my blog)

prompts. | Lloyd Hansen + Boss + “Aw, are you gonna cry?” + Overstimulation, requested by @ellethespaceunicorn.

pairing. | dark!boss!Lloyd Hansen x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, past non-con, present dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, abuse of power, boss/employee relationship, smut, overstimulation, forced orgasms, praise kink, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, pet names, Sir kink, Daddy kink, implied sexual services, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You sigh as you sit on your chair, resting your chin on your hands as you look around. You’ve done everything you needed to. Every single establishment owned by Mr. Hansen is in perfect condition, all thanks to you.

Not one thing can be out of place. It should all be perfect—just like your boss. You smile gently to yourself when you think of the older man. He shows up often, constantly making sure that things are going smoothly.

Even as the only employee around here, the guests are always happy. They’re sent by Mr. Hansen himself—personal recommendations. You have regulars, too, such as Mr. Rogers, Mr. Levinson, and Mr. Barber. Sometimes, the visitors come in battered and bruised. But they also seek company—which they find in you and your special services.

You shake your mouse to wake your computer up, organizing the spreadsheet of this month’s guests. There haven’t been too many, just stray travellers like Mr. Storm and Mr. Jensen. They were very kind to you and left a hefty tip behind.

The sound of a throat clearing grabs your attention. You look up to see the man himself—Mr. Hansen. You beam, pleasantly surprised. He never lets you know when he’s coming, but you always welcome him.

“Hello, sir!” you greet, watching as he picks up a lollipop from the jar you placed just for him. He pockets the candy and smiles at you. “How’s my best girl doing?” Lloyd asks, and you can hear the loud thunk of his duffle bag. You’ve got the best suite cleared out for him—always pristine and untouched. No guest is allowed in that room.

“I’m just fine, Sir. How are you?” you question, perking up. You love it when Mr. Hansen visits. You note that he turned the ‘Closed’ sign on. Perfect.

“I’m alright. Tired but victorious, as always,” he chuckles. You hum in delight. Mr. Hansen is untouchable—unstoppable. He is the best of the best. What he does can’t be taught.

“I have your room ready for you, Sir,” you announce, standing up. Your skirt flows around your thighs, and you wear the name tag written in Lloyd’s script. “Do you now? Great,” he smirks, motioning for you to lead the way.

You nod and do as he says, keeping a steady pace that isn’t too fast or slow. Lloyd whistles a tune unfamiliar to you. You reach the end of the hall and place the key in the lock, turning it and opening the door for your boss.

Mr. Hansen walks in and inspects the room for any flaws. You wait in agony and anticipation, hoping everything is up to his standards.

“Taught you well, huh?” he grins, placing his luggage on the bed. You would offer to unpack it for him, but the first time you did, he got upset. He said that you didn’t need to see what was inside. You can only assume there were rifles and magazines, along with money and equipment, to get himself set up for his next mission.

“I learn from the best, Sir,” you gently say. “That you did, sugarplum. That you did,” Lloyd agrees, pulling the curtains wide open. Sunlight beams in, and you remember that he has always preferred the darkness.

“Have you been good?” Lloyd asks, nodding his head. It’s a gesture for you to close the door, and you do exactly that. “Yes, Sir,” you promise. He pats the spot next to him on the bed, and you take a seat.

Mr. Hansen smells very good. You admire his scent, the one you’ve become addicted to. Sometimes, it’s like a ghost—haunting you even when your boss isn’t around. Just like his voice, his touch.

“I know you have… Got some stellar reviews from some guests,” he reveals, and you squeeze the edge of the mattress. “R– Really?”

Lloyd nods. “Yep,” he confirms, popping the ‘p.’ “Jake loved ya, sweetie. And Johnny? It’s like he’s a changed man,” he explains. You preen, happy with yourself. “Oh, thank you very much, Sir. Should I send a card? Or a gift basket?” you question.

“A card’ll do,” he declares, and you make a mental note. “You know what good girls get, princess?” your boss questions. Your breath hitches when he places a warm hand on your knee, moving upwards and pushing the fabric of your skirt.

“They get rewards,” Lloyd husks in your ear. His hand reaches for your panties, and he pulls them down. You let your boss do whatever he likes—he owns everything here, including you. Your body, your mind, and your soul. It’s all his, according to the contract you signed at first. You never read it, and you initially regretted that. But now you don’t.

Lloyd finds that you’re wet, and he chuckles. “You been thinking about me, puddin’?” Lloyd asks, tone laced with cockiness. You nod your head, whimpering when he begins to rub your clit. Involuntarily, you part your legs and turn towards Mr. Hansen so that he can better access your cunt.

“All the time, sir,” you whisper, moaning loudly when he picks up the pace on your swollen nub. “I know, baby. I think about you, too. Always do,” Lloyd admits. His words warm your heart; they make you shy under the attention he spoils you with.

You quickly ascend to a climax that Lloyd coaxes you through. “Yeah, that’s it—always so good for Daddy,” he praises. You whine as he continues to rub your clit, wetness seeping out of your hole and dripping down to your ass.

Your sounds are music to Lloyd’s ears. He could listen to you crying for him all day.

Mr. Hansen forces you to ride out your orgasm. He doesn’t stop his ministrations on your clit. In fact, he moves his hand quicker. The squelching of your pussy is almost embarrassing, but your moans drown it out.

You come, again, thrashing a bit as your pussy already becomes so sensitive. “Oh, Sir. It’s too much!” you pant, thighs squeezing together. His other hand pries them apart and places your legs onto his lap. “Shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s got ya,” Lloyd reassures you.

The older man forces you into another orgasm, and then another, and another. Your tender flesh is overstimulated—too much to bear, but you keep pushing. You want to be a good girl for Mr. Hansen.

Tears sting your eyes, and you look up at him, staring as you use Lloyd’s handsome face to ground yourself. He meets your gaze. “Aw, are you gonna cry?” Mr. Hansen asks, almost mockingly. You pout and nod.

Lloyd snickers. You know how much he loves it when you cry for him, so you let the waterworks flow.

Mr. Hansen shushes you, soothing his obedient little employee as he continues to make you come on his hand. It’s what a good boss does—and Mr. Hansen is simply the best.

#sab’s dark concepts (2023)#lloyd hansen #the gray man #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x y/n #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #chris evans #dark!#smut #lemon #drabble #request #sabs concepts

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googleitlol · 4 months ago

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Finally at the Red Boy arc! I'm so excited to release the gremlin child muahahahaha!

I may have taken some inspiration from my own younger siblings (I have like 6 or smt? idk) when it came to writing Red Boy, so I'm excited to finally have him in the fic!

Dove Masterlist:

Feetus Yeeted

A chill sends goosebumps up your arms, the cool autumn air a frosty reminder of the weather to come. Dew shines on the sparse patches of grass on the mountain road you travel, the trees lining the path few and far between. Their branches are bare, some still clinging to the few rust-coloured leaves they have left, those that had already fallen drift through the breeze.

Your group marches up the path, somewhat groggy from your early-morning hike. Wujing guides Ao lie with Tripitaka on his back, Wukong floating by his side on his cloud while you and Bajie bring up the rear.

Pigsy readjusts the group’s luggage in his hold, huffing a bit as he does. “Master, you really should have considered staying in that Black Rooster Kingdom. Think of the luxuries we could have now if we stayed there.”

Sandy looks back at the pig demon with a laugh. “Brother, you know Master would never think of accepting such an offer.”

“Wujing is right, I intend to see our pilgrimage through to the end. Nothing could defer me from that.” Tripitaka hums, keeping his attention on the road ahead.

“Besides, that demon had the entire royal court wrapped around his finger.” You look over to your friend to add to the conversation. “I don’t think I could live there either, not after what they went through.”

You glance up to see what Monkey has to contribute, only to notice his eyes practically glued to the sky. It’s hard not to give him a bit of a funny look. Is he lost in thought? There doesn’t seem to be anything interesting going on up there, what else could he be doing?

Before you can ask what is on the simian’s mind, he gives a shout. “Master, get down! Now!” He leaps off his cloud and tackles Tripitaka off the horse. At his warning, you quickly take your bow into your hands while Bajie equips his rake. Sandy stands in front of the group, ready to defend his master while you search the skies for the incoming threat.

…But there is no threat. Not that you can see.

Your confusion seems to be shared as Pigsy frowns, his head whipping back and forth in anticipation for an incoming strike that never arrives. “…Are we under attack?”

Silence stretches over your group before Wukong looks back up at the sky, frowning a bit as he sees what you all do, nothing. “Huh, looks like we scared them off. It’s okay now.” He shrugs, getting back onto his feet and dusting himself off.

Tripitaka looks up at him from the ground, his expression emitting the same level of confusion you feel. “What did you see?”

“It was like some big ball of fire!” The monkey answers, keeping his eyes on the sky as he helps his master up. “It was coming right for us, it’s a good thing I saw it when I did.”

You share a look with the rest of your friends, disbelief evident on all of you. There was no ball of fire that you could see, and from the looks on his brother’s faces, Sun Wukong seems to be the only one to have seen it. You know he has the best vision in your group, but you’re unsure how all of you could have missed something that would be so eye-catching.

Tripitaka clears his throat, his smile a little worried. “Thank you, Pilgrim Sun… but if it’s alright, can I get back on the horse now?”

“Of course! I’ll just keep an eye out for any more fireballs.” He helps the monk back onto his horse before jumping back onto his cloud.

The monk looks at his disciple from the side of his eye, chuckling with a bit of unease. “Okay, then.”

With the matter… somewhat resolved, your group carries on with the morning, hiking up the mountain while Sun Wukong keeps an eye out for whatever he saw.

Just when your mind is ready to put aside the oddity of the moment, a voice echoes through the mountain. It’s faint, but enough for Tripitaka to look up in response. “Do you hear that?” He asks, looking around in worry. You do the same, a focused frown taking over your features as you strain to hear it.

Pigsy shifts the weight of the luggage around as he joins you in your attempts to find the source. “Is someone calling for help?”

“I don’t hear anything.” Wukong frowns, his cloud slowing to a stop.

You hear it again, the voice almost shrill. “It sounds like someone might be in trouble.” You take a step, but before you can transform to take flight, Wukong grabs your arm.

“Why don’t I go check it out?” He smiles, taking you a bit off guard. The Monkey King, offering to help a stranger without Tripitaka asking him to? “You all keep moving, I’ll catch up in a bit.”

He leaves no room for argument, his cloud soaring up high and quickly out of sight. Once he does, you share a bit of a confused look with the rest of your friends. “I’m not the only one who thinks he’s being weird, right? Is letting him go off right now a good idea?” You ask the group, Tripitaka, Pigsy, and Sandy all mumbling their responses.

“I am too tired to bother thinking about it too hard.”

“It scares me when he acts strange like that.”

“As long as he comes back without any blood on his clothes, we should be fine.”

You sigh, looking back at where you had last seen the monkey, doing your best to put aside your concerns before continuing on the road.

Despite the slower pace you take to wait for your friend, the walk goes by in a bit of a blur. You stay behind the others, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sage as you walk. When you eventually do, he jumps down next to you and dismounts his cloud. The piece of sky dissipates as you take in the lack of blood stains on his person, a good sign.

He dusts himself off while everyone else turns back to hear of his findings. “I didn’t see anything, I couldn’t even make out whatever distress calls you were hearing.” Wukong explains, resting his hands on his sides.

Tripitaka frowns before looking up. You do the same, realising you too hear nothing now. Strange, you didn’t go too far. The monk hums as he realises the same thing you do. “Hm, I don’t either.”

You look back at Wukong, your eyes searching for any tells on his face. You’ve seen him put on acts before, and this didn’t feel like the great sage you’ve spent the last couple of years with. Though, he hasn’t quite been himself for some time now.

Since your time being temporarily engaged to Jian Yu, he’s been… what’s the word, jumpy? It’s the best description you can think of, maybe aside from ‘on edge’. Especially when it comes to strangers on the road. The monkey demon always became dismissive around newcomers, doing his best to end encounters as quickly as possible.

Originally, his behaviour led you to believe he was acting like this because those strangers were demons in disguise, but that was almost never the case. You would ask him after parting ways with these strangers, but he would say they were regular travellers without a single malicious bone in their body! Even after confirming these strangers were harmless, it didn’t stop him from acting– maybe the best word to describe it is protective.

You’ve mentioned your thoughts on the matter to Wujing before, thinking he would have some insightful words to share on the matter, but he seemed almost oblivious to the change in your friend.

You cast the monkey man with a careful look once the group resumes the journey, Wukong now hanging back with you behind the others. His expression seems focused, but on what, you cannot say. His gaze is still fixed to the sky “Are you alright?”

The question is enough to get him to turn his eyes over to you, his focus masked with a smile. “Just peachy, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I’m just hoping you didn’t find whoever was screaming and kill them.” You hum, looking ahead to the rest of your friends while you talk.

Wukong scoffs playfully. “Please, do you think I would be able to clean all the blood off myself so quickly?”

“I did take note of the lack of stains.” You smile, peeking at him from the side of your vision.

He returns the look to you, but it doesn’t stay long. “Just, uh, stay close to Master, will you? I don’t have a good feeling about this mountain and it will be easier for me if you’re together.”

The request is enough to make you chuckle, what does he mean by that? Does he really think he has to worry over both you and Tripitaka? “You don’t have to worry about me, Monkey-Man. Or, did you forget about how we fought the Yellow-Robe Demon together? Or what about the battle with the Gold and Silver-Horned brothers?” You remind him, watching carefully for his response.

He looks away at the reminders, scratching the back of his head as he does. “I know, but I would still feel better knowing I could protect you both.”

You can’t help but frown a bit. Does he not think you are capable of protecting yourself? His job is to tend to Tripitaka, not fret over you. This is the exact kind of thing he’s been doing recently, you wish you could know why he’s been acting like this.

Still, if staying near the monk would help him to focus on his actual job, then you could deal with his somewhat-offensive request. That way, you’ll also be closer to stop any threats yourself. “Alright, if it helps you relax a bit, I will.” You smile, moving up to catch up with the rest of the group.

Part of you wants to question your friend on his recent behaviour, but you suppose it would be better to wait. With how anxious he seems at the moment, any attempt to prod at him for information will be fruitless. Maybe after you all rest for a meal, or if you find a good place to set up camp later in the day.

It can be a little difficult to understand Sun Wukong. He is incredibly cunning, you actually admire his wit and strategic mind. However, he has this nasty habit of explaining his process of thought after he’s already started whatever course of action he believes is best. He tends to be right, but leaves the rest of you in the dark with little to no context for his actions. Now, with how he’s been acting, it’s been even more difficult to understand what has been going on in his mind.

Before you can delve any deeper into thought, Wukong’s voice snaps you back into reality. “Master, get down!” He shouts, jumping into action yet again and pulling the monk off Ao Lie by his leg. Everyone quickly jumps into position again, and you stand over the two on the ground protectively with Bajie and Wujing at your side. The arrow on your bowstring draws back, ready to fire at any incoming enemy.

But there is no enemy, not that you can see. Wukong looks up with a frown, scanning the skies for whatever he might have seen. “Huh, I guess it was another false alarm.”

Tripitaka pushes his disciple off of him, casting the demon with a sour look. “Wukong, do you have to knock me off the horse every time you think you see something?! I’d rather not taste any dirt in my mouth.”

“Sorry, Master, it was that fireball again!” Wukong explains while standing back up, offering his master a hand to help him up as well.

Pigsy leans over to you and Wujing as Wukong helps the man up. “It sounds like someone is losing it.”

Sandy shakes his head. “Brother Sun has the best sight out of all of us. Maybe he just thought something was closer than it really is.” The three of you look over to the oldest disciple as he looks up to the sky, his eyes narrowed.

“…Maybe.” You hum, hoping for the sake of your group that it must be the case.

You’re not given much time to think about the monkey any more before you hear a voice calling again. “Help, please!”

“I know I heard somebody that time.” You didn’t imagine it. Not only that, the voice sounds even closer now. Whoever this is, they sound young. Really young. With the life of who might possibly be a child on the line, you transform with a leap into the air to find the voice’s owner with an aerial view.

“Dove, wait!” Wukong calls for you, but you don’t bother to wait, not when a child could be in need of saving.

You fly up high, waiting to hear the voice again before flying towards it. Following the cries, you catch sight of a child tied and suspended from a tree. It’s a young boy, wailing for help as he dangles in the air. His dark hair is dishevelled, some of it obscuring his face. He doesn’t look much older than seven or eight years old, and he’s bruised and beaten all over.

Who could have hurt this poor boy?! You act quickly, landing atop his shoulder and alerting him to your presence. Before he can panic, you begin to use your gift to soothe him. His cries falter, the boy’s head turning to look up at you as you calm him down.

“Huh… what?” He sniffles, confusion evident on his face. “What is this?”

Once he is calm enough, you fly up onto the branch he is suspended from and return to your normal form. “It is alright, child. I will get you down from here.”

The boy looks up at you with his mouth agape, his eyes as wide as his open mouth. All he manages to do is stare for a moment. “Wha– what did you do to me? Are you a goddess under the guise of a bird?” He asks, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face from the question.

“I am nothing of the sort, but that does not mean I can’t help a stranger in need.” You answer. Taking the rope in hand, you pull the boy up– he’s surprisingly light– until he is sitting on the branch with you.

Just as you begin to untie the boy, Wukong’s voice calls out in a panic. “Dove, what are you doing?!” You look up to find your friends rushing to the tree you rest on, the others sharing a look of confusion while Sun Wukong narrows his gaze up at you and the boy.

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” You shout back as they approach, working at the knots keeping the rope together before they begin to slacken around the boy.

Once your friends are close enough and you free the boy of his restraints, you’re able to hand the child to Sandy and get him down to the ground. The river demon is careful to set him down gently. “What happened to you, child?” He asks as you climb down from the tree.

The boy rubs his arms, which are covered in red marks from the rope. “My home was plundered by thieves and bandits.” He explains, looking between you and the rest of your friends. “They killed my father and took my mother with them! They wanted to kill me as well, but my mother convinced them to spare me. They are the ones who left me tied to this tree to die from starvation and exposure.”

You frown as he tells his story, your heart aching for the boy. Losing your family so suddenly is something you can understand. He doesn’t even look much younger than you were when your village was attacked. This poor boy has gone through so much.

You look up at Tripitaka, the man looking down at the child with a look of sympathy. When he catches your eye, he nods, almost reading your mind. With his agreement, you crouch down to the boy. “Tell us, what is your name?”

“I am called Red Boy, Miss.” He replies, and you offer him a kind smile.

You pat his shoulder lightly. “Alright, Red Boy, I’m sure we can help you.”

The boy’s face brightens, but before he can respond, Sun Wukong hums aloud. “Are we sure we believe him?”

Your head swivels back to face him, the others all sharing your look of bewilderment as he continues. “I mean, look at him. He’s just been made an orphan and he can’t even bother to cry about it.”

His reasoning earns him wide-eyed looks of shock from everyone. “I already used my gift to calm him down… why would you say something so–” You can’t even find the words, unsure of how to respond. How can you respond to that?!

Wukong’s tail flicks in annoyance as you rise to stand again. “What are we meant to do with him? He can’t join us, and it isn’t as though we can burden the next person we find with some boy.”

“I still have my maternal family!” Red Boy quickly speaks up. “My aunties are just north of this mountain, and I have cousins there as well. If you could take me to them, I am sure they can reward you for your services. They have plenty of food, and can give you jewellery a-and whatever you want!”

Wukong steps forward, crouching down to face the boy directly now. “How do we know what your saying is the truth? Or that your little fable is even real?”

“Wukong!” You shoot the monkey demon a glare, and he glances back with an irritated look.

“What? It doesn’t make much sense to me.” He shrugs. “His mother begs for his life, so they just leave him to suffer a slower death? I would have at least put him out of his misery–”

Even Pigsy steps in at this point. “Brother, why are you interrogating the boy? If he wants to take us to be fed by his family, I say we let him.”

“It is also the right thing to do.” Tripitaka adds on, giving his two disciples an unimpressed look.

Pigsy looks away to clear his throat. “Yes, it’s the right thing to do.”

Wukong rises to his feet with a scoff, and you can’t stop the look you give him. What is his problem? Yes, he’s been more excitable lately, but this is something else entirely.

Tripitaka rides up to the child. “Red Boy, why don’t you ride with me? You must be exhausted after everything you’ve had to endure.”

The boy looks a bit surprised at the offer, but quickly looks away. “Um, I don’t know. I have never ridden on horseback before.”

The monk nods with a smile. “That is alright, would you like one of my disciples to carry you?”

At his offer, the boy’s eyes brighten a bit. Surprisingly, so does Wukong’s. “Master, I can–”

“Can the woman carry me?” Red Boy asks, cutting off the sage before he can finish. “She was the one who found me, I like her.” He looks over to you with a wide smile, either unaware of or ignoring the glare Wukong gives him when he asks.

You give him a bit of a surprised look yourself, not expecting the request. Tripitaka lets out a bit of an awkward laugh. “She isn’t one of my disciples.”

Wukong huffs, very clearly annoyed. “Just let me carry you, boy, I am much stronger than my brothers. Besides, I can carry you for much longer than Dove could.” He offers, and you feel your brow twitch at his last comment.

His little, ‘stay close to Tripitaka for me’ request was one thing, but that hit a nerve. “I can carry you, Red Boy, I don’t mind.” You smile at the child, his eyes lighting up when you do.

You make eye contact with Sun Wukong as you kneel down for the boy to get onto your back. “I’m much stronger than I look.” Pigsy does his best to conceal a snort of laughter, Sandy doing a bit better than him while Wukong flares his nostrils in irritation.

Ignoring his huffing and puffing, you rise to your feet. With the boy now on your back, you continue your hike through the mountain with your friends, Wukong lagging behind while his brothers walk up front with Tripitaka and you just behind them. As you all walk, you find yourself in conversation with the very curious Red Boy.

“If you’re not a goddess, then what are you?” He asks, laying his head down on your shoulder as you walk.

“I am a human, the same as you.”

“What did you do to me in the tree?”

“I only did what I could to calm you down, it’s a gift I’ve been given by my master.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since I was a little girl. About your age, I think.”

The boy’s wide-eyed look he gives you from over your shoulder warms your heart a bit. “Incredible! You know, Miss, I have never felt such a tranquil feeling in my life!”

“You speak quite well for a young boy.” You note, amused by his excitement.

“I have been told I am very mature for my age.” He beams, making you laugh.

“You sound like it.” You return the look before hearing Bajie chuckle from in front of you.

He nudges Sandy’s arm, and the two look back at you. “It looks as though our feathered friend has found herself a fan.” He muses, and you notice him look back at Sun Wukong. You hear the older disciple grumble something under his breath, and although you can’t make out the words, Red Boy looks back at him and snickers.

Your brow furrows a bit. “What’s so funny, Red Boy?”

“Your monkey friend amuses me.” He admits, and you look over your shoulder at him with some confusion. Despite all the aggression from him, Red Boy doesn’t seem all that frightened of Sun Wukong.

His answer only seems to aggravate the Monkey King even more. “Oh, yeah? What do you find so amusing about me?”

“Your face is very comical.” Red Boy’s blunt answer earns a snort of laughter from you, the response more out of how unexpected his words are. He really does not hold back from saying what he thinks. “I have never seen such a terrifyingly angry expression, it’s almost hilarious.”

Wukong doesn’t seem to find his words as amusing as you do. “Trust me, kid, I can make it scarier.”

“Okay, let’s not fight with the child.” You roll your eyes. Part of you wants to join in on teasing your friend to get a laugh out of the kid, but it’s clear Monkey wouldn’t take it well at the moment. This entire detour with the boy has him in a bad mood.

He grunts at your dismissal, his tail flicking once more. Red Boy watches him for a moment, eyes studying the monkey demon before his eyebrows shoot up in some sort of realisation. “Ohh, I understand. You are upset because you just want the woman to yourself.”

You trip over your own feet at his words, barely catching yourself to stop the both of you from crashing to the ground. Wujing hunches over into a coughing fit when he hears the boy, Pigsy choking back laughter while Tripitaka looks back at him in bewilderment, slack-jawed.

Despite the violent effect of his words on your friends and the violent shade of red on your face, he continues, now whispering into your ear. “My mother always told me that men want only one thing, especially demon men like him.” He looks back at Sun Wukong, who you can’t even turn to for the moment from the embarrassment alone.

Despite the shock of his words, you do your best to regain your composure. “I think you misunderstand, Red Boy.”

He puts his head back on your shoulder, with a face so innocent you can hardly believe such accusations are coming out of it. “You should be careful, Miss. You seem like such a caring person, it has to be a miracle that a demon like him hasn’t given into his evil urges–”

The boy doesn’t get a chance to continue before he’s ripped away from your back. You stumble onto the ground from the action, and before you have the chance to find your bearings, Sun Wukong lifts Red Boy into the air and throws him down the mountain.

“Good riddance.” Wukong snarls, the silence that follows his words are deafening. You stare up at him in shock, at a complete loss for words as he watches the boy fall, the wind howling after him.

When you finally let the moment sink in, you jump back to your feet, wind howling in your ears. “Wukong! What the hell have you done?!”

“Me?!” He looks back at you, clearly offended. “What were you all doing?! That child was a demon in disguise!”

“What?” You frown, the Monkey King grumbling with impatience.

“I would have taken care of him more gracefully, but that brat couldn’t help running his disgusting little mouth.” He rests his hands on his sides, his actions from today now making sense.

A few autumn leaves rush by in the wind as you let out a tired sigh and Sandy steps in. “Why didn’t you say anything before?!”

He scoffs. “Would you have believed me?”

“Yes!” His eyes widen a bit at your exasperated response. “We’ve come far enough on this journey that I trust your judgement, Wukong! If you say someone is a demon, we'll believe you, but you have to be clear and actually say something. Throwing what we think is a little boy off a mountain might give Tripitaka and I heart failure before we reach the scriptures!”

You step back to take a breath, Wukong quiet in response to your lecturing. So many things just happened, you need a minute to recollect your thoughts. You barely even processed what Red Boy was saying before he was ripped from your back. It was all so embarrassing, you can still feel the warmth in your cheeks. Demon or not, that was– gah!

“Uh, guys?” Pigsy pulls you from your thoughts, a frown set in his features. “Is it just me, or is it getting darker?”

The group joins him in observing the sky, the wind picking up even more. You have to shield your face from the gale that pushes past you, your heart sinking as you spot dark clouds circling from above. The sun disappears, shrouding everything in darkness just as more leaves start to pick up off the ground, obscuring your vision. You look to and fro wildly for sight of your friends as the winds grow more violent. It’s a struggle to keep your footing as the invisible force pushes you back.

The sound of Tripitaka’s screams make your heart race. Turning to the source of his cries, you are able to make out a vague silhouette of Ao Lie. Tripitaka is no longer on the horse, his hands barely hanging onto the reins as his body is pulled upwards to the dark clouds. “Tripitaka!”

“Master!” You hear Wukong somewhere to your right before he rushes past you. He seems to be the only one able to push through the wind, Sandy and Pigsy struggling to keep their footing as much as you are. You try your best to move towards the flying monk, fighting the wind at each step.

You’re hardly able to make any progress before ducking your head down to shield your face from loose pebbles and twigs, all flying through the wind haphazardly. Just as you go to take another step, you feel the wind push back against you rougher than before, shoving you off balance enough to make you tumble back.

A shout escapes from you as you fall, but you never make contact with the ground. Instead, you feel yourself lifting higher, twisting and turning with no control over where you go.

“Dove!” Wukong’s voice is faint, accompanied by the thunder of the wind carrying you into the air. You can just make out a figure rushing towards you, Sun Wukong’s hand outstretched. Your hand reaches out for his, so close you can almost touch. But he’s too far.

His fingers just brush your own before you’re thrusted up into the sky. Wukong’s silhouette grows smaller before vanishing completely, obscured by the hordes of debris flying amidst your now darkened world. You shield your face again to protect it before quickly peeking out for any sign of something stable to hold onto. With how much the wind is tossing you about, it’s difficult to maintain any sense of where the ground is.

In the midst of your tumbling through the air, you hear Tripitaka calling out for you and the others. You call out for him, reaching out blindly in the hopes that you are close enough to hold onto each other. Luckily enough, you find a hand to hold, it grabs you firmly the second you make contact. The wave of confidence is short-lived, though, when you realise the hand is too small to be Tripitaka.

It’s too late, you feel yourself being pulled sharply in one direction. In a flash, your surroundings morph, the wind suddenly dropping as you feel yourself roll onto the ground of a hard stone floor. The darkness and debris clouding your vision is replaced with the dim light of torches, the air in whatever cave you now appear to be in is dry and hot.

With a grunt, Tripitaka falls a little ways next to you, landing on his side. “Tripitaka!” You rush over to make sure he’s okay, looking for any injuries as he pushes himself to sit up. He looks at you, confused, and before either of you can say another word, you’re alerted to the presence of another by the sound of their cackling.

“He tried to throw me!” You act quickly, pulling out your dagger and putting a protective arm around the monk as you turn to face your unwanted company. Before you, the boy from before stands with his arms crossed, different than before. His dark hair is now a fiery red that reaches down his back, thick and wild. Bullish horns poke through the top of his head. His ears also now resemble that of a bull, with a thin tail whipping behind him to match. His tattered clothes are now replaced with a dark red kilt, a few scorch marks darkening the material in different spots.

The demon child barks out a laugh. “I knew that ape had to be brash, but trying to kill me before I even did anything?!” His grin stretches from ear to ear and you frown a bit as you look at the boy who stands several metres away from you and Tripitaka.

Yes, this is a demon… but he’s just some kid. What are you meant to do in this situation, fight a child? Put him on a time-out? You glance back at Tripitaka, the monk looking just as confused as you are. Child or not, you can’t imagine the boy has taken the two of you here without malicious intent. “I don’t think you have much room to talk, kid. Haven’t you heard it’s rude to play tricks on people?”

Red Boy snickers. “Not when it comes to food, Miss. Father says anything goes for food. He’ll love that I caught the Golden Cicada!” He beams, eyes practically sparkling as he stares down your friend.

The two of you rise to your feet with your dagger still in hand, Tripitaka frowning a bit at the boy while you scan the area for an exit. “You… you want to eat us?”

Whatever cave you seem to be in, you notice natural light pouring in from an opening just behind the demon boy. “You sound surprised.” He tilts his head a bit to the side. “I’ve had my underlings tell me all about you, Tang Monk. Word travels fast, and I have heard all about your travels on your pursuit to the Thunderclap Monastery. It’s too bad you’ll never make it.” He shrugs, uncaring for your situation.

“That’s enough.” You keep a hand over Tripitaka’s shoulder as you stare down the child. “If you’ve heard of our travels, you know we’ve taken care of plenty of other demons like you.”

The boy flashes a knowing smile. “Oh, I’m not like the demons you’ve already met.” He giggles, his laughter a bizarre mix of sinister and extremely gleeful. “Besides, you don’t have to worry, Miss. I won’t eat you if you don’t want me to.”

Huh. “What.”

“I just want you to do what you did before! I’ve never felt anything like it!” He exclaims, his eyes almost sparkling with a childish glee that confused your already-overworking head. The way he speaks seems so innocent, but his words are packed with evil intent.

Frowning a bit at the boy, you take a step closer and gesture to Tripitaka from behind your back to start moving towards what you assume is the cave entrance. “…Really?”

“Yes!” He smiles widely, and you take another look around the cave as Tripitaka starts to move.

You lower your dagger a bit and take another step towards the boy. “Where is your father?”

Red Boy’s smile drops a bit, his excitement reining in. “I will have my men send him an invitation once I’ve taken care of the monk’s disciples.”

“And your mother?” You press, and the boy looks away.

“She has business to attend to this time of year, so father and I will be dining on our own.” He explains, his posture is a bit straighter now as he smiles at you politely. “I would extend an invitation to you as well, but I assume you wouldn’t want any of the Tang Monk’s meat. You are vegetarian, aren’t you?”

…Also Tripitaka is your friend. Eating your friend is multiple layers of wrong. You glance over at the monk, now closer to the entrance and behind Red Boy’s line of sight. You intend to keep it that way, and crouch down to get onto the same eye-level as the demon child. “Are you saying you live on your own?”

The question seems to offend him, making the boy scoff. “Yes, and? I am plenty old enough to take care of myself! I’m the king of this mountain! I’ve been in command of my army since I took my first steps.”

“…I find that hard to believe.” You frown just before the sounds of Tripitaka screaming catch both your ears.

Red Boy quickly whips around to see the monk being dragged back into the cave by two demon guards, and you curse to yourself under your breath. The demon child frowns. “Where do you think you’re–”

Before he can finish, you drape the boy up into your arms, pressing the dagger to his throat. “Release the monk!” You shout to the demon guards, both of them freezing at your sudden action while you try not to think of how strange it feels to be threatening a little kid.

“Let go of me!” Red Boy shouts, squirming in an attempt to get out of your hold, his hands trying to pull at your arm.

You keep your grip on the boy firm. “I will put you down once your underlings let go of the Tang Monk.” You try to reassure him, glaring at the two demons. “Do it!”

The guards remain still, their eyes trained onto their child boss. You see Tripitaka’s face drop, and before you can react to the growing warmth emitting from Red Boy’s hand, scarlet flames shoot from his mouth. “I said, let go!” The fire shoots at your arm holding up the boy, making you shout out in pain before dropping him. Your dagger falls to the ground as you clutch your arm close to your person. The boy scrambles back over to his men, casting you with a look of betrayal.

“Ugh, that was rude!” He sneers before looking up at his men. “Lock them both up! We have to get ready for when the others arrive.” He orders them, the men quickly jumping into action. One grabs you by your uninjured arm, pulling you over before him and his fellow guard drag you further into the cave.

You wince, looking down at the burn on your arm. A little demon kid that breathes fire, huh? That is a first. You’re gonna have to be smart to get out of this one.

#kid went blasting off like team rocket #dove’s greatest weakness: children #little dove #jttw sun wukong #jttw tripitaka #jttw sandy #jttw pigsy #jttw red boy #sun wukong x reader

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abybweisse · 6 months ago

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Ch212 (p2), Taking a detour

Third time trying to type up a post is the charm, right? Too bad I won't be able to word it quite the same as before. I liked the first version better. 😐

I now see why they are taking a train from Reading to Redhill to Brighton, instead of directly from London, where they started.

So, they get to Reading by some undisclosed method, then they get the train tickets. The Yard is staking out train stations all over London, and our earl and Sebastian hope the Yard isn't inspecting trains as far out as Redhill, where they have to change trains. I'm still not sure how they bought the tickets, particularly first class, since they claim to be broke. Also, if they got from London to Reading by some means, without a train, why not just go straight to Brighton by those same means? Can't the demon use his powers to get them both and their luggage there? Worked well enough to get to Kelvin's, anyway.

I think they should be concerned about Baldo; his current mission is harder than traveling from Arizona or wherever and catching a ride on a ship, and he already had the ticket. The only major problem might be if he's caught abandoning the military.

Lau's ulterior motives are becoming more clear. He wanted to go with Baldo, hoping the advanced medical technology was there. The next few pages are about that.

It's probably not why he traveled all the way to England, but he's an opportunist, and now he has access to the equipment, someone who can use it, and several people who might be willing to stand in as demonstrators. Lau does seem to hope Baldo will go with him to China, instead of returning to our earl and Sebastian.

They should be worried. Baldo and Lau nearly botched it up completely, and they still haven't left the sanatorium, as far as we know. Will they get away before Polaris and others arrive to investigate the missing shipment?

He's more worried that the others could have trouble even getting to their mission destinations.

Mey-Rin is clumsy as a maid, and Ran-Mao acts very awkward. However, they do try to fit in at Heathfield Manor. Thankfully, they destroy the equipment quickly and set those women free, getting Heathfield arrested and under investigation... just within a couple weeks, right?

Idk what Sebastian means by saying they both were dismissed on their first day, due to a blunder. Dismissed from where? Mey-Rin was working for them, and Ran-Mao works for Lau. Was Sebastian falsely told they had already been fired? I doubt that. Perhaps this is a translation issue, and he's worried that could happen?

*"was it not", not "wat it not"....

His excuse here, for suggesting Mey-Rin become their maid doesn't make as much sense as what he'd previously said; they need a maid on the "books" in order to help make his household look legit for an earl. It's always just been a front; Sebastian does most of the work anyway.

Mey-Rin and Ran-Mao have been the most successful, so far. They are already out of there and on their way to wherever they are supposed to reunite with our earl and Sebastian. Jane has left, too, and we don't know if she might reappear at some point. Polaris wishes he'd killed everyone there, so these two must be careful on their way back. I hope they realize the mission isn't over until they actually get back to our earl.

More to come soon.

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inglorionamy-ammy · 4 months ago

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Of Home and Haven (Ch4/6)

Chapter snippet:

The time has come for you and Gale to gather before your friends and families. A wedding, a departure, and some revelation.

Summary: A tender tale between an outlander barbarian and a scholarly wizard, navigating life, love, and belonging (aka. What "being together" means for them) in Waterdeep and beyond.

Pairing: Half-orc Barbarian F!Tav X Gale Mature

Word count: 3.5k

@senualothbrok: As always, my wonderful beta.

AO3 link: Here

Chapter Three: Here

[This chapter's illustration hides at the end ;)]

You have a dream; no, you never recall those fleeting fabrications of the mind. This is a memory.

You remember standing at the edge of the misty forest. As the first ray of sunshine lit up the vast plains before you, you took your first step.

You felt Da’s gaze, steady and proud. You heard Ma’s voice.

“Go, my love, my savage daughter,” she whispered, so as not to break the tranquility of the moment. “Weave your tale with your steps, one at a time. Perhaps one day, you’ll find your path back here again. But if not, then you’ll go far and wide, and be the fiercest of them all.”

So, you march, unwavering, towards the breaking dawn.

You feel Gale stir, finally. You woke up three hours ago, and have already packed your luggage and eaten your breakfast. Now you are back in bed to cradle him.

He moans hoarsely. You can almost hear his wince. Smiling with closed eyes, you reach forward and press slow circles between his shoulder blades with your thumb, eliciting a sigh of relief.

“Morning, my love,” he yawns, “I appreciate the effort, but for it to be truly effective, you may have to massage a much wider area, namely, my whole body.” He barks a surprised laugh when you reach straight to his morning erection.

Instead of using the teleportation scroll that Gale painstakingly prepared for all the guests, your parents have opted to travel on foot to Waterdeep. Ma explains apologetically that they would love to be on the road again, for nostalgic reasons. Gale beams with adoration, and almost successfully hides his slight disappointment. Only you see through how much he longs to immediately return to his tower for your shared four-poster bed.

Still, ever the gentleman, he refuses Ma’s suggestion for you two to go ahead without them. You gratefully give his lower back a comforting little rub as a promise of later massages, cheering his spirit up a bit.

“An escort mission it is, then!” Ma’s eyes twinkle with excitement.

Da grunts his agreement, swiftly throwing her luggage on his back, together with his full-battle equipment and traveling pack. Being on the road again clearly delights him. Following suit, you also lift Gale’s luggage off the ground, and when he protests, you lift him up as well. Ma’s ringing chortle echoes in the forest.

Da takes a final long look at the hut and everything else they have built over the past three decades, flooded in warm sunlight. One piece at a time, your parents had turned the desolate land into somewhere you could be birthed safely and called home. Ma quietly leans against his arm, listening to the sound of the waterwheel, lost in thoughts. You hold Gale’s hand a bit tighter than necessary. He frowns, puzzled, but he won’t be for long. You know his brilliant mind will soon connect the dots, just as you had silently found out the truth five days ago, when your Da dueled you under the moonlight.

“IT’S TIME,” Da decides.

With that, you turn and leave.

Your father has always been a silent man. He never really sits down and tells tales like Ma does, including his own. But he doesn’t need to. You can observe.

You saw how among all enemies he destroyed orcs with the most intense hatred. Every time, he would mark their bodies at the back of their neck, the same place where he has a scar.

You saw how hard he trained you to be self-reliant and dominant, so that you would never fall prey to any malicious intent, no matter who you might encounter. Never subservient, never a slave.

You saw how he hoarded gold and jewelries in the secret basement under the hut, things that were worth nothing in this forest but were worth a fortune in any nearby settlements, and pressed the keys into Ma’s hand, preparing for the inevitable.

You saw his eyes soften with affection, when you and Ma had laughed over some witty jokes Gale made, and he thought no one else was watching him. You saw his silver dreadlocks, once dark but now fully grayed, glowing under the moonlight. You saw him training, harder than ever, ready for the road again. You know he has made his choice.

One evening, you and Gale are sitting next to the campfire, alone at last. Earlier, your parents had retired for the night, saying that they would like to stargaze together at a nearby ruin.

At first, you had wanted to bear the secret alone for a little longer, to not overshadow his joy for the approaching wedding. Yet, you can recognize the look of hesitation and the urge to know on his face, so you prepare for his enquiry.

“There’s more to this trip, isn’t there,” he starts, carefully choosing his words. “There’s something…solemn, about it,” a nervous chuckle, “I certainly hope that it wasn’t inspired by our union.”

You immediately shake your head. Nothing is further from the truth. In fact, Da would not make this decision if he had found Gale unworthy.

“No,” you pause, “Just that Da is about to leave.”

“Leave?�� He raises an eyebrow, “What, you mean, alone? And at this age—”

He halts, realization hitting him. He has read every scattered piece of research he could find on half-orcs. Not much was written on culture, since many assumed your kind don’t have that. But a great deal on your physicality was available. He knows that half-orcs mature faster than humans, that at sixteen they are considered an adult, at fifty an elder, and most don’t live much longer than sixty. For a robust warrior like your Da, extra physical prowess came with the cost of quickened deterioration. In a few years’ time his health will sharply decline, and he will no longer be able to support his heavy, muscular physique, let alone wield it in a meaningful way. A weapon will turn into a burden.

You nod. With a pat you invite him to sit on your lap, a futile gesture of comfort. Still, you reach out to slowly apply soothing pressure to the muscle at the back of his neck, as you explain Da’s teachings.

“A half-orc does not die in bed with sickness and old age, immobile, mourned and pitied. They die in the battlefield, breathe their last breath as a warrior and are celebrated as one. It is in this way that those who cherish them will always remember them by their potency and glory, not by fragility and death.” His fights replay in your mind, always proud, always ready. “After the wedding, Ma and I will see him off.”

For a while Gale is quiet, and so is the world. The only sound you can hear is the fire crackling. You continue to knead into him, untangling the knots in his body. A moment later, he lets out a deep breath.

“Every time I think I have deciphered the truth of your heritage, I am always humbled by the limits of my understanding.”

He chuckles in resignation, then turns to you, his voice soft but burning with urgency.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way…but I might never be able to see the appeal in that. Back when I was afflicted, a lonely, brutal death had seemed to be my fate. I used to think I could embrace it, like some sort of martyr, and it was you, my love, who showed me otherwise.”

His palm moves to your hand on his shoulder and holds it, fingers intertwined.

“Now, without it, I’ve always hoped that my last moments would be spent in the arms of my beloved, surrounded by friends instead of foes.”

You think about that.

“That’s beautiful too,” you decide.

Five days before your wedding, Gale’s tower has turned into some kind of tavern. You watch him, in awe, as he uses scrolls combined with his own magic to remold the interior, stretching corridors, opening new rooms, and decorating them with a snap of his fingers. Ma claps with wonder, clearly enjoying the performance. Even Da nods his approval. Gale makes an exaggerated bow in gentlemanly fashion, barely hiding a smirk.

Halsin, the massive former archdruid, is the first to arrive. After a brief handshake, a big hug follows, and between the two of you Gale is thoroughly squeezed. Shadowheart arrives an hour later, silvery hair matched by a slivery gown. You only get to greet each other briefly before she is whisked away. Her elegant presence has attracted both the attention of Morena and your Ma, and as they chat away you sense Gale’s slight unease. Hidden childhood embarrassments are sure to be spilled. You politely fight the urge to listen in.

A day later, a sudden rush of sulphur fills the front yard, follows by a snap of the air. You and Da immediately spring into a battle stance, only to relax as Karlach and Wyll step out from the Hell’s portal, hand in hand. A warmth fills your heart.

“Wyll, my friend!” Gale shouts in excitement, pulling the man into a tight embrace.

With her lover occupied, Karlach looks around and spots your Da. The pair’s gazes lock, and wild grins are shared. After that, there isn’t a day that the tower is free of the sound of sparring. You sometimes join in as an effective way to flirt with Gale.

In the evening before the union, Astarion knocks on the door, face hidden under a cloak. The rogue rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance when Gale jokes how surprised he is that the man is in fact capable of knocking. Astarion however immediately gets his comeback when he silences you all with a removal of his cloak, revealing a red and black doublet with the most intricately golden embroidery you have ever seen, his own proud work. The vampire spawn is gorgeous.

“Well, my dear wizard, I could still offer some fashion advice for the most special day in your life, if you ask very nicely,” he purrs, dragging out every syllable.

It is late, but none of you are preparing to sleep. The ceremony starts tomorrow night so you suppose you can steal a rest the coming morning. Except for Lae’zel, Jaheira, and Minsc and Boo, who will be attending the ceremony directly, the whole party has once again gathered. There are too many drinks to down, songs to sing, and gossips to share. Shadowheart and Astarion have retreated to a corner, making sarcastic remarks with wine twirling in their hands. Halsin and Da somehow find themselves in an arm-wrestling contest with Ma as the judge, and you are amused to find Morena right next to her watching with bated breath, the two mothers nearly inseparable for the past few days. At the corner of your eye, Wyll is reporting to Tara on the arrangements for tomorrow, the Blade of Avernus heeding command from the mighty Tressym. You feel at home, at ease, with your favorite wizard reclining in your embrace.

Karlach walks over, slightly drunk.

“Soldier!” She salutes.

You hum, smiling, signaling her to sit beside you. Over the past days you have learnt that her war in the Hells is almost over, and she has gained more allies than any of you would have expected. The House of Hope is now a rebellion camp. You are so proud of her.

“Awww, you two are so sweet!”

She throws an arm around you and leans on your shoulder, her mechanical heartbeat loud and hot. You tilt your head slightly to give her space without bumping into her horns.

“I could say the same about you and Wyll!” Gale replies with a chuckle. “I have always suspected a spark. All it takes is some hells fire to ignite it.” His eyes are dreamy as he asks, “when will we be attending your wedding?”

“Oi, you!” Karlach swats his arm, making him wince. “Another word from you and I may end up hijacking your big day!”

That gets a throaty laugh. “I am not sure I’m opposed to that.” Gale glances up at you with his bright brown eyes. “My love, I suppose we have room for a double wedding?” He adds cheekily, “Please?”

“Making plans without me, hm?” Wyll walks over, standing in front of you all with mock parental disapproval, hands on hips. “I’m sorry to be the one who ruins the fun, but Lady Tara has ordered that the bride and the groom must be separated for the night, not to meet until the ceremony.”

Gale whines unceremoniously and you hold him tighter. “Make me,” you challenge.

Karlach lands a tickle attack.

Instantly the room breaks into chaos. As you and Karlach end up on the floor wrestling in laugher, and Wyll tries to pry Gale away while avoiding the kicks and grabs, you see Da shaking his head with a toothy grin.

He is contented.

The time has come for you and Gale to gather before your friends and families.

The ceremony is held at the Heroes’ Garden. When the band starts to play, you step forward with your parents. Two gigantic half-orcs and a delicate human woman proves to be quite a sight. You hold your head up high, letting the moon rays light up the gold braided in your hair and adorning your body.

The aisles of chairs are filled with faces both familiar and unfamiliar. The Dekarios clan does take up a large portion of the seats, all of its members transfixed with curiosity, except for Morena, who looks at you with warm encouragement. Several wizards in formal attire, which you assume are Gale’s closer colleagues, quirk their heads as you walk past.

In comparison, your companions’ reaction are much more passionate. You are grateful to see all of them make it on time. Lae’zel has arrived in the form of a slightly flickering astral projection as promised, giving you an approving nod. Minsc and Boo almost jump up from their seats in excitement, barely held down by Jaheira. You are also greeted by some jolly tieflings, among them Alfira, who is wiping her joyful tears. Next to her a dragonborn stranger is clinging to her, somehow sobbing harder. Even Omeluum and Blurg grace you with their presence, and behind them is Elminster, who has closed his eyes as if enchanted by the melody.

Then you see Jina hugging her two sons, one on each side. You smile and give her a little wave. The boys squeal in excitement, shaking their mother.

Only then do you finally, finally, allow yourself to gaze upon Gale Dekarios, your husband-to-be, standing before the altar in his full glory. He looks back at you with the same fervor, his eyes wide with amazement, as if he cannot believe his sight, his luck. As he slowly exhales, you can tell that he is trying hard to control his expression. Wyll, who is standing next to him, gives him a supportive little bump.

He is so beautiful, and in a moment, he will be yours. You will away a primal urge to claim him right then and there, and instead nod to Halsin, signaling for him to start the ceremony.

“And now, standing among Nature and the beauty of Oak Father’s abundant creation, the bride and the groom shall exchange these rings to seal the vows.”

Wyll brings out a pair of earrings, two simple golden pieces adorned with blue sapphires. You have chosen the form of an earring instead of one worn on the finger to avoid the jewelry getting in the way of a throwing fist. Gale has chosen the style, opting for stones that speak of loyalty, of the joining of your souls.

His tender fingers reach out to you, quivering slightly as he lets out a shaking breath. They glaze past your cheek before reaching their destination, and gently fix the small adornment on your left ear lobe. You grin at him, and he mirrors you.

You then reach for him, your thumb wiping away his tears in a featherlight stroke, before slipping to his ear. There his silver earring confronts you, dangling. You slowly remove it, resisting the urge to dump it somewhere far, and drop it into his palm.

Because for him, keeping the symbol of Mystra is less about clinging to a lost love than a continuous process to navigate her inevitable role in his life, for the past, the present, and the future. You know that as a wizard, he will always be connected to her in one way or another, but in what ways, he will have to decide for himself. For so long you have waited, and now the time has come. In the meantime, you silently replace the empty space with your shared symbol of love, giving him a new anchor.

When you are finished, he lowers his gaze to his open hand.

He closes it, and with a deep breath throws the earring into the pond behind you. Someone in the crowd cheers.

With that, you crush your lips into his. You are now as much of a Dekarios as he is a Riversong, your dancing tongues celebrating your union. His scent of sandalwood embraces you fully, as much as your musk, a mixture of the warmth of the sun and the freshness of the soil, fills up his world. You cup his face, pulling him even closer.

“Welcome home,” he mumbles against your lips.

Some parts deep inside you wish the morning light would never come. You wonder, when you were sixteen and ready to leave, did your parents feel the same?

Yet after all the singing and dancing and feasting, the dawn does break, and now you are standing at the city gates of Waterdeep, with your parents and your new husband by your side.

More have come. Your companions, having now made the acquaintance of your father, march together from the garden to the gate. Karlach has picked a weapon with him from the collection you have built up during your shared adventure. You are still in your wedding dress, your dreadlocks styled by your mother into a gilded braid, spiraled like a crown on your head. A simple golden necklace sits on your exposed collarbones, shiny against your purplish skin. Ma told you that it was something she had worn on the day she followed Da into the wild. You touch its chain softly, worshipping the memory it carries.

Your father seems joyful. He has told you, with spoken words more verbose than usual, how honored he is to be seen off by the Heroes of Baldur’s Gate. A sign of fortune, of victory.

He stands in front of Gale and greets him with a bow. Gale, though with turmoil in his eyes, returns the gesture. You remember how Gale struggles to see absence as an act of love, growing up with a father who disappeared without a word, leaving him and his mother to mend their broken hearts.

Da then walks to Ma and cups her face with his palm. Gently, their foreheads rest against each other.

“ELENA, MY LOVE,” he says. “BE WELL.”

And Ma simply nods with a smile, eyes shimmering. Everything that needs to be said has already been conveyed through decades of companionship.

Finally, he walks to you.

“MY GIRL, DO NOT GRIEVE MY DEPARTURE.” He holds your gaze, intense as forge flame. “IN SOLITUDE WE COME, IN SOLITUDE WE GO. SUCH IS OUR PRIDE, THE DESTINY OF A HALF-ORC.”

At the corner of your eye you see Gale turn away, the words too heavy for him to bear. He has just welcomed you into his embrace, far from ready for a foretelling of parting. Your heart aches for him, so you must ask—

“What about for a half-human?”

Gale’s eyes snap back to you, and for a while your father is startled. Then, a beam, the brightest you have ever seen, blossoms on his face. With his wrinkles softened by the morning sunlight, he suddenly looks young again. Perhaps that was what he looked like when Ma first met him, when he saved her from an orc raid all those years ago.

“THAT, MY GIRL, IS FOR YOU TO FIND OUT.”

You snort. What a cheeky answer from him, your lifelong coach on half-orc matters. You suddenly realize that perhaps what he has been teaching you was just his own experience, as a wandering lone ranger who fought his way out of servitude and into a noble’s heart. That perhaps there was never just one way to be a half-orc, a half-human, or anything between and beyond. So, you call to him, a resigned grin on your face.

“Go then, Da, my savage father. Walk far and wide, and be the fiercest of them all.”

With a roaring laugher, he marches, unwavering, towards the breaking dawn.

Chapter 5

The reason this chapter took forever was actually because of the illustration lol

My ambitious ass tries to capture all the key themes in this chapter in one drawing, so the complexity of it worsens my procrastinating tendency sigh

Anyway, it is here now! I have been looking forward to posting this. I see this chapter as an experiment to juxtapose the beginning and the end of a relationship.

Thank you for reading till the end. Would love to hear your thoughts :D

More of my works: Here

#bg3 #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #galemancer #fansart #myart #gale posting #barbarian tav #gale fanfic #gale x reader #gale romance #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanart

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portugaldestinations · 2 years ago

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Amazon Brand - Eono 8 Set Cubos de Embalaje

Organizadores para Maletas, Travel Packing Cubes, Equipaje de Viaje Organizadores, con Bolsa de Zapatos, Bolsa de Cosméticos, Bolsa de Lavandería – Borgoña

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#Luggage and travel equipment

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marshallpupfan · 1 month ago

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The Air Rescue Controversy...

At the time of typing this, the latest episode of PAW Patrol to air was season 11's "Air Rescue: Pups Save a Hum-stronaut". In it, Skye's jet transformed and went out into space, Chase and Marshall dealt with falling debris that caught on fire upon reentry, and Rocky, Rubble and Zuma protected things at Adventure Bay's new airport. The controversial thing here, however, was how the latter three pups referred to themselves as the "ground crew".

The moment I heard them say that, I knew there would be grumbling around the fandom. This, combined with the continued confirmation that only Chase, Marshall and Skye received aerial vehicles, did not sit too well with fans. Those three are off saving the day, while Zuma's "job" is to press buttons to operate the plane wash, Rubble does... whatever he does, and Rocky uses a new vehicle to help load and unload luggage. Fans have pointed out the inequality regarding the treatment of three of these main characters, and how it just doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

The thing is, I don't necessarily mind the idea. In fact, I'd argue that, on paper, it sounds just fine. People tend to forget that those on the ground are quite important, too. And given the size of Chase, Marshall and Skye's new vehicles, having six large aerial vehicles in the air at the same time, and in the same space, might not be the best idea. This isn't like Jet to the Rescue, in which each pup had tiny, personal planes. Besides, I'm not sure about them trying to squeeze in a "construction plane" or something.

The idea of a ground crew sounds fine... again, on paper. The execution, like many episodes these past seasons, is the problem. If they wanted a ground crew, they should've given the three something to make them just as or close to useful as the other three in the air.

Did they? Nope.

Zuma presses a button to run a plane wash. This is pretty much all he does, outside of sticking a sponge on his paw to clean a lens or push some stairs on wheels around (I think Rubble did this once, too). Compare that to Skye and her new jet, flying around at high speeds and even traveling up into space. It's quite the gap, to say the least.

They really should've done something to prevent this. My personal idea, if you'll indulge a person who still wishes he could write for this cartoon someday, is to just ditch the ground crew idea for those three pups (and give it to someone else, who I'll mention later). Instead, how about each of the three new aerial vehicles has a secondary feature, which is ran by one of those other three pups? Marshall's plane can put out fires, but if there's ever an emergency at sea, he can launch Zuma's dropship submersible. Chase's helicopter can save the day however it does, but if something up high needs repair, Rocky can operate robotic-like arms (similar to what's inside his pup pack) while the copter hovers in place. As for Skye and Rubble, I'm not sure how to squeeze construction equipment in there, but maybe one of you can think of something.

In any case, this could've been a good way to send all of the pups into the air, not to mention it might've made for some fun toys, too ("FIREFIGHTER PLANE SET, WITH MARSHALL FIGUREINE + ZUMA & HIS DROPSHIP!! ONE BUTTON SHOOTS WATER, WHILE THE OTHER LAUNCHES THE DROPSHIP FROM THE BOTTOM!!"). Instead, they stuck three of them on the ground and gave them jobs that, let's face it, could've easily been handled by Robo-Dog. Yeah, he's oddly absent during this subseries, huh? Besides, having each new aerial vehicle carry two pups could've allowed for some fun dialogue during missions, too. Marshall and Zuma can chat while en route, and then Zuma can watch a radar or camera while Marshall's focused on putting out fires. Hey, most planes have a pilot and a co-pilot, right? There are plenty of possibilities!

Sadly, they instead went with something quite questionable. And it's worrisome, given that this could easily happen again under PAW Patrol's new director. Will the next subseries, Fire Rescue, continue this unequal treatment? Will Marshall, Chase and Skye get fancy new firefighting vehicles while Zuma only presses a button to open a garage door, Rocky just puts tools on the new vehicles and sometimes makes repairs, and Rubble gets a smaller vehicle that's designed only to refill the water tanks in said new vehicles? It goes without saying that fans are hoping that's not the case.

Despite my complaints over the last few years, I still like PAW Patrol... but I can't help but shake my head at some of their decisions as of late. It seems like every time the franchise does something good, something bad comes along to drag it down again. They give us Boomer, and then they give us Zuma's plane wash. It's weird.

Given that Marshall's my favorite, I'm hoping Fire Rescue avoids this issue. I really want his subseries to win fans over and give us something great. I don't want to see it become another Air Rescue, which hasn't even concluded yet and it's already left some fans so disappointed.

Well, we do have four 11-minute segments remaining of Air Rescue, so hopefully it'll give the "ground crew" something good to make the idea worth it. Hey, you never know! Let's hope, anyway.

#PAW Patrol #PAWPatrol

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affectionate-team · 1 year ago

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Smitten Ace × reader drabble

I recently came back from a ve~ery long trip, and I've got a few ideas to share... to be honest, I used to be pretty annoyed by Ace when I first got into twst, but the more content I find of him, the more attractive this prick seems >:/ I swear, liking him as a character feels embarrassing... but who cares? Basically, this post is all about what I imagine travelling with a smitten Ace might be like.

So, almost half of my trip was spent riding the train to get to a camp with a hundred or two of other kids from my region, so you can guess it was eventful. Imagine going on such a trip with the first-years team, having to take a train for three days straight - it's basically like becoming roommates for a short while.

To get at least a sliver of privacy, you call dibs on a top bunk from the very start; that way you can hide away in a space of your own when social interactions start getting exhausting. Hearing that, Ace rushes to claim the bed opposite of yours. It takes him some effort to convince Deuce, who was actually supposed to take that place, to trade, without blowing his cover. When you enter the train car, Ace is already unpacking his things, jumping down his bunk (almost landing on Sebek) to throw your luggage onto a shelf.

Settling down isn't easy, with how many passengers are in the train car and how little space there is, but eventually everyone takes their seat.

The road promises to be long, and what better entertainment is there if not playing card games? Obviously, Ace has brought a whole pack of them, a laminated limited-edition deck with am intricate design that he snagged from his brother. Passing cards out for everyone and starting a game. As expected from someone who's been basically holding cards since crib, he wins every single time, pulling kings and aces seemingly out of nowhere (or, perhaps, right from his sleeves...). When he exits the game, Ace leans closer to you, watching the way you use your deck and giving subtle hints on how to turn the situation in your favor, smirking proudly when you start picking up and winning more frequently.

Whenever your little squad sits down for a meal, Trappola takes a seat as close as possible - either in front of you or at your side. You two often trade or share, swapping food you don't like for something you have a liking for. Ace would never be caught dead admitting to it, but I feel like he might sometimes lie about hating some snack or desert, just to have a reason to share with you.

I don't even doubt that he'd be the one to initiate playing something like truth or dare later into the evening, having prepared a full list of embarrassing questions and wild dares specifically for this occasion. Expect him to bluescreen if, when dared to kiss the most handsome guy around, you pick anyone except him.

And eventually night rolls around. Clad in a complect of comfortable night clothes, you fluff up a pillow and a blanket, wrapping yourself up cozily and turning on one side. You face Ace, barely making out his features in the dark. His two crimson eyes stare into your face, and if at that moment all lights were on, you would've noticed a hint of fondness in his expression. Propping his head up on a hand, Ace whispers,"

Asleep yet?"

You two talk quietly for a few more hours into the night. School, family, plans for future - it's so easy to share with him, conversation flowing naturally. Contrary to the confident and boisterous voice he usually equips around others, right now he sounds gentle. No persona to upkeep (assuming that all others have fallen asleep long ago), nothing to hide or prove; and as you feel your eyelids grow closing and head sinking into the pillow, you succumb to heavy sleep of exhaustion.

The last thing you hear before dozing off is a far-away:

"Good night... dream of me, yeah?"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #the way of a housewarden #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #another drabble I wrote during class #plss I'm reposting it for a third time hnnn

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year ago

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Sweet requests 💙 I would love some sweet Jake Jensen or Steve Rogers. Reader and then have been fighting, and reader is ready to give up, but their man won’t let them. Please and thank you!

Rerouted, a Jake Jensen x Reader tale

Warnings for some language and innuendo, angst, kinda hurt/comfort due to miscommunication and insecurities. WC 2.7k

Summary: Vacation with your boyfriend is a disaster.

You’ve had smoother starts to vacations, that’s the truth.

Delayed flights. Turbulence. Arriving before check-in with a raging headache.

Jake did his (awkward) damnedest to sweet-talk the desk clerk to let you both into the room early, but his attempts failed and you put those thick headphones right back on and crashed on a lobby chair. You feel his bouncing leg shake the cushions gently as he sits guard over your luggage.

Though your head feels a little better, you need to shower before any real relaxation can happen. You shuffle your feet on the industrial hallway carpet and stare at the back of Jake’s sneakers.

The heavy steel door smacks you hard in the arm when he lets go just at the moment you turn to adjust the rollers of your bag.

“Dammit,” you hiss.

“Shit, babe, are you okay?”

It takes every fiber of your being to simply respond, “yeah.”

You immediately announce your intention to hog the bathroom for a nice long cleanse of your body, mind, and soul.

Jake asks for five minutes first.

Sure. Poop all you want, bud. It’s not like your very first international getaway as a couple has gone swimmingly so far…

You try some stretches to relieve a kink in that weird place below your neck and between your shoulders but not quite over your spine. Worst spot ever. Maybe the shower can heal all travel wounds?

Your boyfriend gives you the all-clear, but you didn’t even hear him close the door or flush. Whatever. He knows it’s your territory now. A forfeit is a forfeit.

A long while later you emerge a modicum improved with a clear head and the memory of not charging your toothbrush overnight. You had to sacrifice a cute beach coverup to make space for the charger. No matter because you’ve got time now.

You change into one of your swimsuits and a light maxi dress, throwing out a comment that some drinks poolside might be a good jumpstart to the trip, but Jake doesn’t move. He’s playing on his laptop.

That joke? The one where ‘you can take the man out of the tech but you can’t take the tech out of the man?’ Yeah, that doesn’t apply to Jake Jensen. It’ll be a cold day in hell when he leaves it all behind, but you check things on your phone all the time, too. Fair is fair.

You unplug what you think is one of the hotel’s complimentary devices—sad blow dryer or shitty coffee maker or something—and set your brush up.

A quick glance in the mirror gives you a boost. Your skin looks pretty great, all things considered, and you have that new lip gloss to—

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

You jump in alarm, barely able to get to the bathroom door before Jake is right there.

“JESUS FUCK, WHAT DID YOU—fuck.” He rips your charger out of the wall to replace the other black plug. Jake doesn’t even look at you before huffing out “don’t TOUCH that” and racing back to his open laptop on the bed.

“Fuckfuckfuck, come on,” he mutters.

“Are you working?” you screech once it hits you that the device is some sort of signal amplifier. You aren’t tech illiterate, but you aren’t Jake’s level. He knows the golden rule is no work on your together time though.

“It’s important. I have to…there—“ he scrambles to type something out, zoned entirely into his computer.

His computer. Open to work. On your vacation. Which he brought extra equipment for.

Then you see another router on the small desk, and another on his bedside table.

And you’ve suddenly had enough.

“One day, Jay. One day,” you burst. “You couldn’t even give me one damn day of our own vacation.”

That momentary zen you felt flushes right down the toilet with your composure. Tears immediately sting the corners of your eyes. It’s all you can do to snatch sunglasses and a room key from the desk corner and walk out.

“Babe, wait, I just need a—“

The door shuts, fast as ever, loud as fucking thunderclap, and you’re barefoot in the hallway.

You do not fucking care and keep walking toward the pool.

One overly sweet and dangerously delicious cocktail later, Jake still hasn’t come to find you. You sit at the shaded bar with your hand over your eyes to take in the view since these are Jake’s prescription sunglasses you’ve taken. Either option is not great for the last dregs of a headache.

Cocktail number two it is…

Mercifully, clouds roll in. Not the kind that deters guests from the pool or beach. Nothing threatening the splendor of this perfect destination.

You walk to the edge of the pool deck and sip, waiting, alone.

Several times your brain tricks you into turning back, thinking Jake’s come out, thinking he’s groveling behind you. Do you even hope for that? Do you want him to sweep you off your feet? Do you believe him if he comes up with promises upon promises to put the work away, to instead put all that effort into you two?

You have no idea, so you just keep sipping until slurping on air and plunking the empty onto a free lounge chair.

Sputtering and coughing ring to your right.

“Dear god—” Jake wipes his mouth, holding a full coconut husk of your drink of choice “—is that what diabetes tastes like?”

He tries to hand you his peace offering, the peace offering he’s now taken some of and insulted. You turn back to the ocean, and Jake continues to squint harshly, nose scrunched so hard that you can see his teeth.

“Got something in my pocket—“ he smirks “—or maybe I’m just happy to see ya.”

Silence. He can’t hold the gag.

“It’s Tylenol. I grabbed Tylenol for your head.”

When you still don’t cave, he starts twitching, fumbling around with his watch, and clearing his throat.

“I wasn’t—there wasn’t supposed to be a—“ he swivels to look around him and steps closer “—a gig today, but then…boss, um, he—“ Jake waves his free hand out to help illustrate his lack of euphemisms for classified ops “—bungled a…a staging and—fuck it. I give up. He’s an idiot, and I’m a dick, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t want them to get hurt if I could help.”

“You always have to help them, Jay. It never stops. I don’t see this working if you can’t step away for one damn day. I’m not this girl,” you fuss, “and I don’t want to date that guy.”

The wind picks up a little, swishing your hair around the makeshift headband of Jake’s sunglasses. You take pity and return them. He doesn’t put them on immediately though, his look guilty, replying in a soft and broken tone.

“Please don’t say stuff like that. I’m trying.”

“I am, too.” You square your shoulders to his and rip the drink out of his hand. “But isn’t trying and trying and not succeeding just failing in slow motion? Because that’s what it feels like to me every time you choose a machine over me.”

“That’s not fair.”

Your glare stops that line cold.

“What I mean is—ok, this is too…” Jake puts on the dark sunglasses. “Imagine my very sincere, partially-blind eyes when I say this is the best I’ve got. You know I don’t know how to be—“

“I swear to god if you say ‘lovah,’ Jake Jensen.” Little shit is always making a joke out of everything.

Since that is exactly what he was about to say, Jake cocks his hip and scratches his goatee. “Fine. Boyfriend. I’ve never gotten this far with someone, but I want it. I want this. I want it with you. I can’t be better until—ya know—try shit to do the best I can and maybe, actually, get better.”

You bitterly sip your sweet treat, saying flatly, “Charming.”

“I only had my job before—“ he pets his big hands down your bare arms “—you know that. It’s hard to switch off. And I am sorry. I did not intend to jump onto a…call the second we got here.“

Poking at the ice in your drink isn’t distracting enough. You’re mad and hurt. This vacation was supposed to cut you off from all that, to give you and Jake time to hang together uninterrupted, and most importantly, to feel like you were enough excitement and company for the guy inoculated from excitement by years of intense shit.

You do not feel like enough now.

“You brought an entire suitcase worth of equipment,” you say flatly.

“Force of habit,” he counters, trying to move his hands to your waist, but you step back. “It’s like a safety net. You pack an extra outfit per day and I come with…an extra router, couple of splitters, a sat phone, and…whatnot. Same sorta difference.”

“I don’t want to be on vacation with a sat phone and a split couple of wires.”

“Right. I understand that. I know it’s not…ideal.”

“And the next four days are going to be?”

“Ooh,” Jake hisses and makes a face, “if Pooch can survive that long without me, it’ll be a miracle.” He scratches the back of his head while you stare him down again. “What?”

You clutch your drink, bunch up a bit of your skirt, and storm off down the boardwalk to the ocean.

It takes Jake a hot second.

“No. Hey! Come on,” he pleads quietly, hoping not to attract the attention of other guests while he chases you to the beach.

When Jake first approached you at a bar with the worst pickup line you’d ever heard, it was cute, endearing in an ‘I can fix him’ kind of way, but maybe you aren’t strong enough. You can’t just be training wheels while he gets his shit together. You’re not going to be some fucktoy in the corner and wait for him to get sick of you—or yell at you for doing something wrong—because then he’ll only associate you with being some sort of practice, a relationship that was doomed since he’ll want to start fresh with someone else who never fights with him, someone who understands this tech shit, someone who never gets angry, someone who isn’t insecure about—“

“I’m sorry I yelled,” Jake says, finally grabbing your arm to spin you around. “You are not practice.”

Did you…were you muttering all that…out loud? How strong are these drinks??

He jumps in front of your path when you attempt to flee, embarrassment warming you more than the shaded sun.

“No. No, I am not great at this. I’m doing everything wrong, and, babe, I know that.” Jake wildly talks with his hands and walks backward while you slog through loose sand. “I also know that you have put up with every stupid ass stunt I’ve pulled trying to impress you or be the guy I think you deserve. Which I am also convinced is some dude way better than me anyhow. Please don’t. Please don’t say you’re done with me. I can’t ruin this. You’re the best girl I’ve ever b—“

Jake cuts himself off with a wince.

Your head snaps up.

“Oh my god,” you shriek. “Were you just gonna say banged? I’m the best bang, REALLY?”

“Bagged,” he corrects with a sad flick of the wrist, “I was saying bagged, but then I knew it was wrong so I stopped and I’ve made it worse, haven’t I? Seriously if you just give me five minutes, I can look up the most spectacular apology. I can deep fake that cat from the Tiktoks you like reciting Shakespeare if you want just please—”

“Damn it, Jay. Get it through your head. I don’t want your rehearsed version of being a boyfriend, and for one weekend, I didn’t want to share you with your whole team.”

His eyebrows shoot up over the dark lenses. “Kinky,” he whistles. “Wait, no, I’m sor—”

“Go fuck yourself.” You walk away down the resort shore.

He infuriatingly does not follow this time, and instead, you hear his pathetic call “You look nice by the way. I like that dress.”

When that’s all you’ve gotten by a few seconds later, you glance to see Jake, too, walking away. That’s not right; he’s supposed to grovel. He’s supposed to keep following to convince you he loves you.

Sucking your drink down, you dump the ice, umbrella, and straw onto the sand and lob the coconut at Jake’s retreating form. You don’t have great aim.

It bounces straight off his ass and makes him yelp in surprise.

“What the—did you just…”

You puff out your chest, unashamed, as Jake’s mouth gapes open. He slowly stretches to his full height and adjusts his glasses.

“Why you little...“

“Yeah? What are you gonna—eek!”

He’s after you.

You squeal and bolt down to the water in a zigzag to evade him.

“I’ll get you, minx,” Jake roars into the wind.

You can’t help but laugh as you barely dodge him. It’s easy for a special ops guy to catch a civilian in a long dress trying to run on wet sand, but Jake grins the whole time and lets you have a few extra moves before his arms wrap your waist.

He lifts you off the ground.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he growls playfully in your ear, holding you tight as you thrash a little.

It’s a fit of giggles for him to wrestle you into a hug, facing him. Jake’s still smiling, breathing heavier but not from any great exertion. He rests his forehead against yours, the wire rim of his sunglasses brushing your eyebrows.

“How’s your head feeling, baby?” His hands stroke your sides tenderly, and you sigh, a few more toxic fumes of anger releasing into the breeze.

“Um,” you assess, squinting, “better than my feet.”

You’ve dug the wrung of a barstool into your arch, stood on hot cement, traipsed across a sharp-shelled beach, and run over the solid, water-logged shore, all barefoot.

“I can help with that.” Jake kisses the tip of your nose and sweeps you up bridal style.

After an involuntary scream of alarm, you clutch at his neck. “That’s not necessary.”

“I know, but that’s the point. How else are you supposed to know how unnecessarily crazy I am about you?” For a complete nerd, your boyfriend is quite built. “And I’m gonna guess you are ‘throwing coconuts’ crazy about me, maybe?”

“God help me, I am.”

“Yeah? Glad you dig losers, babe, because I’m the biggest one you can find.”

As he makes his way up the wooden steps back to the pool, you grip his flexed bicep. “Yeah, you are…”

He puts you down by the tap to rinse your feet, spraying first yours, then his.

“See,” he whispers, standing and moving you both out of the way for a large family to use the water, “I like ‘em frisky, too, so we’re a perfect match.” He keeps his voice very low. “I can think of at least one thing to do to keep you off those poor feet for a few hours.”

You bite your lip, and even though you can’t see his eyes through the mirror-finish, you know he’s affected by that move. “What’s that?”

He gets bashful and ducks his face off to the side--he’s not very smooth with dirty talk. He knows you love to tease him though. He also…loves being teased.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze, your own small ‘I’m sorry.’

Jake pushes up his sunglasses and beams with a snort of approval. “Well, it starts with ordering room service and then unplugging everything…”

A/N: Thank you for waiting since mid-December for this one, but I'm finally pleased with how it turned out. Sadly, I thought of the fight scenario way back when, and just kept blanking on a way to dig them back out of it. I really, really did not want a bunch of promises and excuses and it was important to me that it not be a one-sided issue. Relationships are, in fact, a two-way street after all!!!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @peyton-warren and I don't really know anyone else for a Jake tag, but yeah, let me know...

#ro answers #jake jensen fluff #jake jensen x you #the losers fanfiction #jake jenson x reader #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen fanfiction #hurt/comfort

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thecartoon1st · 6 months ago

Text

Passenger Details:

[Civilian Class]

Luggage and Equipment:

Passenger Boarded with a 2018 P-Series generic spacesuit rated for civilian travel and major vacuum resistance, along with Mk. 4 Lightspeed Boots, which were fitted with electrical auto-nullifiers until landing. Passenger was notified of the damage upon their visor, promptly began hyperventilating and was swiftly allowed onboard. Passenger also boarded with a model 1974 shotgun, and five “TOP-N” model drones. When questioned, the passenger stated they were for “emotional support.” Passenger was permitted to keep all five upon presenting medical records. Shotgun’s ammo was removed and the shotgun was placed in a secure holding area.

[SECURITY RECALL]

[Event PM1] Passenger went into a panic attack upon hearing the blast and alarms in loading bay 4A (see Event G1) and assaulted a Commando unit in this state, throwing them into a wall. Passenger was banned from nearing the loading bays until landing.

[Event PM2] Passenger seen unconsciously wandering through the ship, their hands positioned as if to hold a rifle. Passenger was awoken and escorted back to their cabin by one of the passenger’s drones.

The Pizza-man

Paranoid Unexpectancy

#risk of rain #risk of rain 2 #risk of rain fanart #risk of rain returns #ror2 #pizza tower #peppino spaghetti

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forestshadow-wolf · 10 months ago

Text

Perched Unlikely (Chapter 3)

fighters

Pairing: soap/ghost

Tags: httyd!AU, blood, injury, gore, hurt/comfort, violence

Ao3 link || Chapter 1 || Chapter 4

“If your opponent is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he is in superior strength, evade him.” - Sun Tzu "The Art of War"

---------

The hollow whoosh of shooting flames sounded with a roar and the dragon shrieked in agony when its tail caught in range of the fire. It shot away from the flame-spitting reptile... Straight into the other waiting dragon on the opposite side of the arena. Teeth clamped onto the heat blackened scales of its tail, sunk in deep, with crushing pressure. The wave of noise roared louder as the dragon was slammed into the stone wall that made up the arena.

“The Speed Stinger taking massive hits from both the Monstrous Nightmare and the Dramillion!” the commentator spectated gleefully.

The Speed Stinger stood up, shaking off the impact, as the other two dragons turned on each other. The sounds of the crowd rattling the chains overhead grew louder, and the stamping of their feet shook the stone. The Speed Stinger lunged at the Monsterous Nightmare, plunging it's stinger into it's hind leg. The appendage immediately fell limp, and the Dramillion took the distraction to sink it's teeth into it's throat.

"Ohhh it looks like, unfortunately, the venom of a juvanile Speed Stinger is not quite enough to immobalize a matured Monsterous Nightmare! Though the Dramillion not wasting a second of opportunity to. Go. For. The. Kill!!!"

The Dramillion turned it's bloodsplattered face to the smaller dragon.

"it's down to a battle of wit now! The Dramillion with it's infamously strong fire power! Against the daring speed of the Speed Stingerrr!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Ten minutes to land, Sergent MacTavish!" the pilot shouted over the intercom, shaking him out of his thoughts. "The Captain says you'll meet the Lieutenant once we land. Assuming he's ontime."

"Copy copy." Soap acknowleges, shuffling to make sure all his things were collected, which wasn't hard since he hadn't taken anything out since boarding. The Dragon at his feet still sleeping as soundly as ever. He nudged her side lightly with the toe of his boot to rouse her. She grumbled, and turned her head away from him. "c'mon, up, ya' lazy reptile." a tail came up an thwacked him on the arm at that. "Ach, hey, I'm not the one sleepin' all five hours." he argued, the Speed Stinger huffed at him unamused.

There was noone on the tarmac to greet him when they landed, but that was fine. He could get himself and Lacikayra settled, then go find the lieutenant if they hadn't crossed paths by then. Fortunately there was no need to set his plan into motion, as two minutes later he was turning to the startling sight of a broad-set, masked man standing a few feet away from the ramp, waiting.

"Steamin'- Jesus. You tha' Lieutenant?" Soap jumped at the sudden appearance of such a large man behind him, without even a sound of warning. He hauled up his travel ruck, and clicked his tongue to summon his dragon to his side.

"Aye, that's me." the brit spoke bluntly, accent aggressively Manc. "Lietuenant Riley, Ghost."

Soap was half-way through introducing himself to his new Lieutenant when he heard luggage crashing to the ground behind him. He looked just in time to freeze in shock at the sight several of the cargo personnel harshly grab up the harness for his dragon and hurl it onto of a pile of other, less-than-gently handled items, and then promptly get smashed by a large rucksack. He visibly flinched at the audible crack that reached his ears.

"Nae! Nae! Nae! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!" he yelled, his legs running him over as fast as he could to grab the, now broken, harness out of the mess of bags and other shit, just before another piece of equipment could be carelessly tossed on top. "Ye bloody Eeijit! I said STOP ye gowkn' lavvy heid! that's my bloody feckin' equipment that you bloody bawbags broke!" he could feel hands dragging him away but he didn't care. He needed that shit and they broke it! "I should bloody write you up for that! If I can't get this fixed I'll turn you into a bloody feartie! I swear I feckin' will ye wankstain!" he yells over his shoulder as he gets pulled away. He continues struggling and swearing until there is no doubt that they're out of earshot.

"Calm down, Sergent!" and Soap stops muttering curses then, breathing heavily at the deep, accented words. The harness hangs in his hand, the pieces of it loosely held together by straps and strings.

"Bloody rockets, the lot of 'em." he mutters, not able to let it go despite being told to do so.

"English, MacTavish." the man reciprocates. Shit. Great going MacTavish. Perfect first impression. Whatever, he'll deal with whatever consequences find him.

"Said they're bloody idiots, Sir. I really don't have a replacement for this one, so if I can't fix it, Lacikayra's, my dragon," he scratched under her chin to calm himself. " 's outta commission for a while, and even if I can it's a temporary mend, so light work only. and it won't last too long. At least until I can put an order out for the materials I need in order to do a complete repair, which will take time and money given everything I need, then more time to build the damn thing." he says, holding up the busted bits of wood and scrap.

"Wait- You're the transport unit? There more of you?"

"Aye, I'm transport, Sir, and it's just us." Soap gritted, still forcing himself to calm. Laci shoved her head under his hand so he could stroke along her smooth scales.

"Why don't you just grab a temp. from the equipment techs?"

"No, Sir. She'll only take to this one. It's one of a kind, Sir, made by my own hands, specially for her."

"Write up a list of everything you need for it, and get it to me by end of day. I'll make sure you get it in the next shipment." The Lieutenant- Ghost said after a moment of scrutinizing him.

"Aye, Sir, what about the Captain?"

"He'll agree with my assesment. You'll get to meet him and the Sergent in two days, after they get back from assignment."

"Yes, Sir."

With that Ghost set about leading them around base, first leading them to his nice, new, private quarters. Letting him drop off his bags, and the broken piece of equipment. Then showing them the important places he'll need to know about, as well as places he'll most likely be frequenting. Like the Captain's office, as well as the Lieutenant's own office, the cafeteria, training fields, demolitions corner, sniper range, ect.

"So the dragon." Ghost surprised him, starting up idle conversation. Soap took the offering.

"Aye, her name's Lacikayra, saved her from an illegal figthing ring when I was a birk."

"A what?"

"When I was a boy." he clarified, before continuing. "I was out with some friends, exploring this abandoned park that was nearby. And whaddya know? Illegal dragon fights, right there, basically in my own backyard. tha's how close it was." Ghost hummed. "An' well I'll be the first to say we weren't exactly the smartest bunch of lads oot there, but we thought, 'ah the guys are doin' some illegal shite' and we decide we didnae like tha' much."

"you? Teen MacTavish on the side of the law? didn't you punch an MP when you first joined?" Ghost said incredulously.

"Aye, well, the guy was bein' a dick, kickin' around mine and other people's dragons. I was jus' protecting Laci. Plus I might have also hoped my ma woulda let me keep one of 'em." he shrugged. "You know it's a bit o' a miracle we made it out unscathed. We didnae even have a plan aside from 'chaos and burn'. I think I saw tha' ring master piss his trousers when he saw all the dragons were loose. Nae sure what happened to him after that, half hope he got his face bit off, but we made it out, and whaddya know? This sweet girl," he said, caressing along the crest atop Lacikayra's head, "Ended up bonded with me." she trilled at him happily, running a head a little so she could run happy circles around them.

"She's cute." Ghost complimented.

"Aye, and fierce. Suppose she has to be, to have survived the fights, especially with a poorly healed injury." Ghost made a curious sound at that so he elaborated. "It was already long healed when I got her, but the docs said she must've sustaned burn, and bite damage to her tail when she was just a bairn. It's stunted the development of the venom gland, so her sting's a bit weak. But she still managed to survive."

"Impressive."

"I know. What about you? Got a dragon of your own? Yer file was mostly black so I didnae exactly glean much from it." Soap asked.

"Yeah I got one. Hobblegrunt, saved her from some poachers while on assignment a few years back, she was injured badly, and it was a tad touch and go for a bit, but she made it. She's a good one I'll tell you that, saved me more than a few times. You'll get to meet her when you meet the others, she's a bit shy, so I'd rather let her get used to your scent before you meet her.

"aye, that's usually how it goes with these guys, unfortunately." Soap mused, and Ghost nodded along.

"I assume you're aware that Kyle's got a Changewing?"

"Oh, yes. I was interested in that, actually. Never seen one with my own two eyes before."

"Are they not native to scotland?"

"Aye, they are, just not my part of it. Too much open land, not enough places to camouflage with. Never seen a Hobblegrunt either, for that matter."

"Good to know." Ghost nodded, looking at his watch. "Unfortunately I do have other duties to attend to, so I'll let you two settle in. Standard meal hours for the base, and the common room is open at all hours for the personal 141. And remember I need that list by the end of the day today."

"Yes, Sir, I'll have it in to you as soon as I can."

"Good, then I'll see you a 1600 hours." Ghost confirmed before striding away to do whatever else he had to do.

@myriadblvck @queermentaldisaster @bringinsexybackk69

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #HTTYD au #Perched Unlikely #el rambles #speed stinger

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