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alotofpockets · 7 months ago

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The set up | Alessia Russo x Reader

Where your best friend Gio sets you up with his sister.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

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“Come on, just let me set you up with one more girl.” Your best friend begged, making you roll your eyes. He loved trying to set you up, but nothing ever really came from it. “Like your other set ups worked so well.”

“Please, just one more before I head off to Bali. I can’t leave you here all on your own.” Oh he could be so annoying. “I have friends besides you Gio, you know that right?" You give him a friendly shove.

“Y/n, she’s totally your type. Just give me one more chance.” You knew when he was putting up his best puppy eyes, that you weren’t going to be able to say no. “Fine, but it will be your going away present, so don’t expect anything else.”

You checked your phone one more time to check if you had gotten the right restaurant, a reservation for two under the name Russo he had said. Why he had used his name instead of yours was a mystery to you, but that mystery quickly unravelled when you saw the girl that was sitting at the table the waiter was leading you to.

“Lessi?” The girl looked up with confusion written all over your face, just like yourself. “Hey y/n/n, what are you doing here?”

“Well, apparently Gio tried setting me up with you.” Alessia chuckled, “Of course he did.” You hesitate for a moment, which Alessia seems to notice. “Sit, this place has amazing food. Plus Gio is paying for the whole thing.” Now it was your turn to laugh. “How did you manage that?”

You settle into your seat while Alessia tells you how she convinced her brother to pay for the whole date. Alessia was right, the menu had some great choices, as you looked through them you wondered why Gio would set you up with his sister, was this one of his jokes, or was he serious about this?

"So, how have you been?" Alessia asks, breaking the brief silence. "I feel like it's been ages since we caught up properly." You had met Gio back in college, and had known his whole family for ages.

“It really has been a while, hasn’t it? I’m doing well. I got promoted at work which prompted my move to London, they offered me a managing position at their location here. I’ve been getting used to the changes, home and work wise, but overall I’m really happy with the change. How have you been? Has Arsenal been treating you well?” Now that you think of it, you hadn’t been to one of her matches since made the move to Arsenal. You often joined Gio and the Russo family on seeing Alessia play for either club or country, having watched her grow from a college athlete to this phenomenal professional player.

Alessia tells you all about her move to London and her time at Arsenal so far over the pizza’s that you both ordered. It had actually been really nice hanging out with the girl one on one, something you hadn’t done all too often.

When both your plates are empty, you don’t want to leave yet but you know you’ll have to say goodnight because you have work in the morning. “This was really nice Less, would you want to do it again some time?” You didn’t know how the blonde was looking at this set up as an actual date, or just as friends catching up, but as the evening came to an end you realised just how much you had enjoyed her company, and how much you would like to go out with her again.

“I had a great time, and I would love to do it again sometime, it’s a date.” Your heart warmed at the words ‘it’s a date’, glad to hear that she was feeling the same way. “Do you want to mess with Gio a bit?” She suggested, and she told you her plan after you agreed.

You step into Gio’s apartment without an invitation to come in, or saying hello. “Your sister? You set me up with your sister?” You tried your hardest not to smile. His eyes widened, “I really thought you guys would hit it off, and if not it would just be funny.” You shake your head and walk out of the door again. As you get in your car you quickly send Alessia a text.

Y/n: Part one of the plan has been executed :)

The next day you eagerly await Alessia’s text, after lunch your phone finally buzzes with a message from her.

Alessia: Part two is in motion!

You smile at the message, imagining what Alessia has cooked up, as she was clearly enjoying pranking her brother as much as you were.

The plan was to make Gio believe he messed up with setting the two of you up, while actually you already had your second date planned.

The second date was even better than the first one, instead of sitting down at a restaurant you went to an arcade. When you headed in the bustling arcade filled your ears, as Alessia led you right to the first game. “Ready to get crushed?” A sparkle behind her eyes told you enough about how tonight was going to go. “Bring it on.” You said back with determination.

You smirk as you get ball after ball in the basket, Alessia was doing well too, but your points were definitely going up quicker. When the timer ends, you have almost double the points she has. Alessia looks over in disbelief. “Less, how did your brother and I get to know each other?” She thinks for a moment before it finally dawns on her, you were both on the basketball team in college. “Okay, so that game doesn’t count because there was an unfair advantage. Let’s move on.”

She takes your hand and drags you to a new game, where the both of you are just as competitive. The wins were divided more now, her being better at some games, and you better at others. All in all, you had a great time.

At the end of the night she invited you to come see her play on Sunday, an offer you gladly accepted. It had really been too long since you had seen her play, and you were interested to see how her playing style had changed since she joined the new club.

She walked you to your front door, “You’ll be at the airport tomorrow as well right?” You nod, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” Gio was leaving for Bali tomorrow, and his family and a couple of his closest friends were coming to wave him off. Since you had stormed out of his apartment, the two of you were good again, but he still had no idea that you and Alessia had started dating.

Before she turns around to get to her car, she leans in and pecks your lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You kiss her again, wanting her with you a little longer. “Goodnight Less, text me when you get home?” With a nod and another quick kiss, you watch her drive off.

The next day you meet the Russo family at the airport. No one wanted to say goodbye, but you knew you had to since Gio had a plane to catch so you stepped up first. You give him a big hug, “I’m going to miss you, Gio. Have an amazing trip, and send me all the updates please.”

Gio noticed the two of you embracing, and started smirking instantly. He walked up to the two of you. “I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, you finally set me up with a good one.” He hugged the both of you. “I’m very happy for you both. Take care of each other while I’m away?” With a promise that you would, he went off to board his plane.

After you, more of Gio’s friends went ahead and said their goodbye’s, and last but not least, his family did as well. Alessia stepped back from saying bye with teary eyes, the goodbye being emotional for the family. She walked right towards you, and you wrapped your arms around her in comfort, no longer caring about the little plan you had made.

Carol walked up to the two of you, “Want to join us for dinner tonight, sweetheart?” You looked over to Alessia to make sure she was okay with you saying yes to her mom. When she agreed with a nod and a smile, you told Carol you would love to.

When Gio landed you were still at the Russo’s, and you Gio had added you all to a group chat called ‘Bali updates for the fam’, you smiled at the way he included you with his family, as the five of you watched his video showing you all the hotel room he would spend the first night.

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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x y/n #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #arsenal wfc x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt imagine #lionesses x reader

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ts1m1kas · 4 months ago

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Original Ask: Where Jamal and Reder are e.g in Bali or Greece and they have a pretty cute dinner date and they swim together and just enjoy each other (anonymous)

Word Count: 672 words

(author's note: thank you again for 250 reblogs, i hope you all enjoy 🩷)

One thing that Jamal and Y/N loved to do together was travel. As soon as the football season was over, they were jetting off to various destinations around the world. To them, it was their time to relax, as well as escape the pressures and stress of the media.

On this occasion, the pair had chosen to go to Bali. The weather had been perfect and the hotel they had picked was stunning. Their favourite part, however, was the private beach by the hotel, which was where they spent a lot of their time.

The couple were in the final week of their holiday and had decided to go out for a lunch date. Jamal booked a table in a restaurant in the local town centre whilst Y/N got ready and once they were both dressed, they set off.

Strolling through the bustling streets, Y/N and Jamal were hand in hand, soaking in the atmosphere around them. The sun was beating down, casting shadows around corners and making the sea on the horizon glint in tones of blue and aquamarine.

Arriving at the restaurant, Y/N and Jamal were seated at their table on the outside balcony. The views were extensive and picturesque and Y/N swore she was in heaven when she looked around.

Menus were browsed and drinks were ordered as Y/N and Jamal talked to each other about where they wanted to go travelling next.

“I’ve heard the Maldives is nice, or Greece?” Y/N said thoughtfully.

“What about Australia? We could go to a couple of different cities while we’re there maybe?”

“That’s a good idea! We’ll have to look at flights later, see which ones work best.”

“Whatever you want, love,” Jamal said, smiling at his girlfriend.

Amidst their conversations, their food arrived and the pair ate it in comfortable silence. The company of each other was peaceful and comforting, the distant crashing of waves and soft scent of salt filling the air. Once they had eaten their meals and finished their drinks, Jamal paid the bill and the pair headed out of the restaurant and to the beach.

The walk was short and before they knew it, they could feel the sand beneath their feet and the sound of the sea was far louder. Jamal and Y/N stood still for a moment, gazing out at the sea. The blue water looked deliciously cool in comparison to the hot sun.

“I'll race you into the water!” Jamal said, sprinting down to the shoreline.

“What? Jamal! Wait!” Y/N said laughing, running to catch up with her boyfriend.

The pair were hot on each other's heels as they chased one another to the water. A warm breeze blew, enveloping the couple as they ran along the sand.

Finally reaching the ocean, the pair charged in, clothes and all. They immediately began splashing each other, shrieking and laughing as the cold water hit their skin.

Jamal waded over to Y/N and swept her off her feet. He spun around with her in his arms and she screeched giddily.

“Jamal Musiala, if you throw me into the water I will never ever forgive you !”

“I won't, don't worry baby,” He replied with a laugh.

He did however, lean down and connect their lips in a kiss. The kiss was clumsy and tasted of salt, but the pair's lips moved in sync nevertheless.

When they broke away, Jamal placed Y/N back into the water. As soon as she was back on the ground, she moved her arm up and pushed Jamal so he fell back into the water with a splash.

Y/N ran off laughing before Jamal could get up and catch her. He stood up and wiped the water off his face and began to go after his girlfriend.

“I'm gonna get you back for that!” But his statement held no real malice as he looked at Y/N fondly.

There was no one else he would rather go on holiday with.

#football #fanfiction #fanfic #hot footballers #request #jamal musiala #jamal musiala x reader #jamal musiala imagine #jamal musiala blurb #by ts1m1kas

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year ago

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instead of you [part thirty-four] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni ; 18+)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

additional smut warnings: protected sex, public(ish) sex

“Were you able to get some rest?” Jisung asked, hand in yours as you walked through the airport together.

“Not much,” you admitted.

“Thankfully, I don’t think we’re doing anything today. We can just crash when we get to the hotel.”

“Okay.”

Jet lag was hitting you particularly hard. Oahu was a whole eighteen hours behind Bali, meaning you were technically in yesterday. Everyone else seemed to be handling it fine but maybe that was because they hadn’t ruined their relationship with their best friend by sleeping with his brother.

It was midday and already hot as hell. You waited outside with the Hans while Dom filled out the paperwork for rental cars. He called Minho inside to sign a waiver that allowed him to be the driver of the other car. Minho was the only one of the four of you who was old enough to legally drive a rental car and he rubbed it in the rest of your faces with a shake of the keys once he rejoined your group.

“Follow us to the resort,” Dom instructed Minho. “I’ll send you the address in case you lose us.”

You climbed into the backseat with Jisung and slumped over on his shoulder. You tried to stay awake as Minho drove through the island but your eyelids were feeling heavy and the winding mountain roads weren’t helping.

“Are we not staying in Honolulu?” you asked, watching the road signs zoom past.

“We’ll take a day trip over there but my parents wanted to stay at Ko’Olina again because they liked it so much last time,” Jisung explained.

“Right, I forgot that you guys have been here before.”

“I try not to think about it.”

Your time in Hawai’i was being split between two islands: Oahu and Kauai. In Oahu, you were staying in separate hotel rooms, and in Kauai, everyone was sharing a condo again.

It was nice to be able to have your own space but it also meant that there really wasn’t a way to avoid Jisung. You were kind of stuck with him. At least he was speaking to you again. He’d had some time to cool down so he wasn’t as angry but you could tell that he didn’t particularly want to spend time with you either.

You were stuck at a crossroads in that respect. You weren’t sure how to mend things with him but you knew you wanted to. You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way. He had been pretty clear the night that he found out about you and Minho that he wanted nothing to do with you outside of your already agreed-upon deal. But that had been in the heat of the moment. You had tried extinguishing any flicker of hope that threatened to engulf you in order to protect yourself from being hurt again, but it was getting harder and harder to do the more time you spent with him.

Sometimes it felt like nothing had changed. There were fleeting moments shared between just the two of you when there was no one around to pretend for that made you think your friendship might still be salvageable. But they never lasted long. They were lapses in Jisung’s judgment, when he would accidentally let his guard down, acting like you were still those kids you had been back at school, like you were still his favorite person.

He ordered room service for the two of you and you ate in relative silence. When the tension became unbearable you turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, ultimately deciding on some show playing on The Food Network. Perfect vacation television. It was a rerun of Chopped. You could tell it was a rerun from the dated fashion choices and technology- not because you were an avid fan or anything, though you had seen your fair share of episodes by being best friends with a culinary student. Whenever you watched it together Jisung liked to play a game where he would invent his own dishes with the ingredients the contestants were given.

“What would you make with that?” you asked, nodding at the screen, trying to lighten the mood.

He took a moment to think, mulling over the assortment of items in his mind. “Probably a salad of some kind since it’s the appetizer round. It’s a cop-out but I could make a dressing with that peanut brittle.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Knowing you, it would probably still taste good.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Or I just know you.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Later that night, after you had both showered, you tried bringing up your conversation from the other day but Jisung shut you down entirely.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he mumbled, tossing one of the extra pillows from the bed onto the armchair a little harder than necessary.

“But-”

“I’m just not ready yet,” he cut you off. “I... don’t want to say anything else I don’t mean. And I’m not ready to forgive you yet.”

There it was again, that stupid spark of hope struck like a match against the side of your heart.

You nodded in understanding, biting your lip to keep from showing just how disappointed you were.

It was a strange mix of emotions, hope and disappointment. They were complete opposites but somehow you were feeling them simultaneously.

“O-okay,” you said shakily, watching as he climbed into bed.

You moved to do the same even though it felt painfully awkward, how were you supposed to just go to bed after that? How did people in relationships do it? How did people just roll over and fall asleep like nothing had happened after an argument?

As soon as you reached to pull the sheets back, fingertips brushing the fabric, your phone vibrated next to you on the bedside table.

You glanced at the screen and saw that it was a message from Minho. He was asking you to meet him downstairs. It wasn’t that late but it was already dark and it had been a long day. What could he possibly want?

Jisung must have noticed the look on your face because he sighed and muttered “go” at you without meeting your eyes.

“I, uh, I’ll be back. Later.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You made sure to grab a room key on the way out and then hurried down the hall to the elevator, pressing the down button over and over again until it finally arrived at your floor.

Minho was waiting for you in the lobby like he said he would be, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed impatiently. To your surprise, he smiled when he saw you.

“What’s so important you couldn’t tell me over text?” you demanded in annoyance.

Minho’s grin faltered but didn’t fall. He just eyed you with an air of amusement. “Who said I had something to tell you?”

“Why else would you make me come down here?”

He raised an arm, dangling the key to the rental car he had driven earlier that day. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Do you trust me?”

“Not particularly.”

Minho placed his hand over his heart and winced. “You wound me.”

“Just tell me where you’re taking me!”

“But that ruins the surprise!” he argued.

“The surprise? It’s like eleven p.m. and I’m tired! Why are you dragging me out at this hour? Jisung’s already annoyed that I came down here to meet you in the first place.”

“How does he know?”

“Who else would text me at this hour?”

“Fair point. But are you just going to stand there and interrogate me all night or are we doing this?”

You huffed in frustration. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is!”

“Come on!”

Minho grabbed your hand before you could argue any further and dragged you out through the lobby into the parking lot.

“So now you’re kidnapping me?” you exclaimed, tripping over your own feet.

Minho chuckled but still shot you a look of warning. “Keep your voice down! People are going to think you’re serious.”

“Yes, sir,” you deadpanned.

“Stop trying to turn me on in public, you already have an unfair advantage.”

You weren’t sure how serious he was but you rolled your eyes anyway. You also didn’t know what he meant by the second part but you didn’t ask about that either.

He didn’t let go of your hand until you reached the car. And even then, it seemed like he was hesitant to release you from his grasp, fingers lingering on your palm like he was afraid you’d run away the second he set you free.

But you climbed into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt without a second thought. A series of poor decisions had already led you here. What was a couple more?

Mostly, your curiosity is what drove you to get in the car with him. You figured you didn’t have much to lose at this point. You hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words to Minho in the last few days. You had assumed he’d want nothing to do with you after you fucked up his relationship with his brother-- then again, maybe he didn’t want anything to do with you and was only driving you somewhere where he could chew you out without anyone overhearing. Hell, maybe he was taking you out to a pier where he could push you in the water so that your body would never be found.

No, he's too famous for that. He’d never get away with it.

You were silent as Minho put the car in gear and backed out of the lot. As soon as he turned onto the main road he rolled the windows down, glancing over at you to make sure it didn’t bother you.

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

You watched him mess with the radio dial until a signal from a local station was picked up. Once he found something, he adjusted the volume so that you could hear the music over the sound of the rushing wind, and then he reached across the center console, hand outstretched. The gesture caught you off guard, and you were unsure whether or not you should take it. You figured it would be more awkward if you left him hanging so you looked away and slipped your fingers between his, relaxing into the familiar feeling.

The roads were mostly empty. Everything was already closed for the night. Eventually, Minho merged onto the highway, heading east.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you asked twenty minutes later when he still hadn’t taken an exit. You were beginning to suspect that he didn’t really have anyplace in particular in mind, that he was just taking you for a late night drive, which would have been fine. You liked long drives too. But he had made it all seem so mysterious and the anticipation was killing you.

“Of course I do, how dare you doubt me!”

“It’s just that you don’t have a GPS on or anything!”

“I’ve been here before,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, one time three years ago.”

“That’s all I need,” he assured you. “And if you pay attention to the road signs you don’t even need to memorize the route.”

“You sound like my dad,” you mumbled.

“Your dad must be a very talented navigator,” Minho said decisively, complimenting himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but he didn’t fail his driver’s test- what was it, four times?”

“Low blow,” he chided and shook his head.

“You needed to be humbled.”

Comfortable silence resumed between the two of you as Minho continued driving. He got off the highway a few miles later and wove through town before finally turning onto a rocky uphill path. The radio signal weakened almost immediately, static interrupting the music that had been playing. He turned the volume down out of instinct.

“Remind me, do you get carsick?” Minho asked suddenly, like it was an afterthought that had just occurred to him.

“Um, sometimes? Why do you ask?”

“These roads are winding,” he explained, “they might make you nauseous. Just try to look straight ahead. Don’t look at your phone.”

“I haven’t looked at my phone this entire time!”

“Well don’t start now.”

You braced yourself for the twists and turns of the road but it was difficult to anticipate where they would be with how dark it was. The headlights of the car were the only source of light on the gravel road, everything else surrounded by shadows and silhouettes of trees.

Finally, just when you were starting to feel a little lightheaded, Minho pulled into a little lot on the side of the road.

“Are we here?” you asked, squinting in the darkness to try and make anything out.

“Yup,” Minho answered with a smile.

He turned off the car, letting the headlights dim.

“Come on!”

“We’re getting out?” you exclaimed.

“Would you just trust me?”

Sighing, you kicked open the passenger side door and climbed out of the car. Minho rounded the back to meet you on your side, blanket in hand.

“Where are we?”

“Listen.”

You closed your eyes and did as you were told, waiting for any sort of clue as to where you were. In the distance, you could hear waves crashing against the shore. The salt in the air and the sound of breeze rustling through palm fronds only confirmed what you already knew.

“You took me to the beach?”

“Follow me.”

Minho took your hand and led you along the sandy path down to the shore. You toed off your shoes and held them in your free hand as you walked. The place was practically empty. The only other signs of life were the flames from a bonfire about half a mile down the beach.

Minho used the flashlight on his phone so you could see where you were going, keeping you steady when you tripped over your own feet in the uneven sand.

“Careful there,” he chuckled.

He picked a spot that wasn’t too far from the path, something that put a little more distance between you and the bonfire.

“Is this okay?”

“Seems as good a place as any,” you said and shrugged.

Minho laid out the blanket and motioned for you to sit on it. The sand underneath the fabric was cool, having long lost hold of the heat from the sun. It molded to the shape of your body as you chose a comfortable position.

You could feel Minho’s presence beside you but neither of you moved closer to the other. You figured he hadn’t brought you all the way out here to sit in silence, but you didn’t want to be the one to prompt the conversation. He was the one who was so insistent on coming, he could make the first move.

He did, after several more moments. You waited patiently, allowing him to collect his thoughts. His eyebrows were knit together, eyes downcast, as if he were having an internal argument with himself. Then, his expression softened and he met your gaze, any trace of conflict seemingly absolved.

“You look really pretty.”

You scoffed. “You can’t even see me that well.”

“Speak for yourself, I can see you perfectly.”

“It’s dark out!”

“We have the moonlight.”

“Barely.”

“I think you need to get your eyes checked,” Minho teased.

“Did you bring me out here just to make fun of me?”

“Yeah, are you not having a good time?” Minho asked. “Do I need to up my game?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t grant him a response, instead pulling your knees to your chest so that you could rest your chin on them.

“Do you like it? Here, I mean?”

You nodded. “It’s nice. Quiet.”

“Mhm.”

“But why this beach? I mean, we’re on an island, the whole place is beach, but you drove me all the way out here.”

“It’s usually pretty empty, especially at night.”

“And you know that because... you’ve taken lots of girls out here?”

“If you count my mum, then yes,” he said sarcastically. “I don’t exactly frequent the island of O’ahu.”

“So you’re saying that if you did, you’d bring girls here all of the time?”

“Oh, totally. It’s how I’d seal the deal, like all the assholes in the movies.”

“By telling them they’re the first one you’ve ever brought here?”

“Exactly. But you know I’m telling you the truth because you already slept with me.”

You shoved him with a scoff, a little harder than you intended, making Minho fall back onto the blanket.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You know exactly what that was for.”

He grinned sheepishly and then stretched out the arm that was closest to you. “C’mon, then. Join me.”

You shifted a bit, moving further down on the quilt so that when you laid back Minho’s arm would slot perfectly under your neck. You curled up to him, slinging your own arm across his stomach. The rhythm of his breathing along with the sounds of the waves breaking against the shore was soothing. It was the most relaxed you’d felt in a long time. You were halfway to sleep when you felt Minho murmur something into your hair.

“What?’ you asked groggily, blinking your eyes open.

“The stars, look.”

You repositioned yourself a bit so that you could stare straight up at the sky to see what he was talking about, gasping quietly when you did.

It wasn’t as impressive as the night skies on the boat had been, you were much closer to civilization now, but it was still better than anything you’d ever gotten to see back home. It was as if the sky was dripping with diamonds, stars hanging out of reach like they were on display at a store far out of your budget.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“I thought you might like it,” Minho mused, “I’m glad the clouds cleared so you could see them.”

“It’s nice here even without the stars,” you assured him. “Though, they’re definitely a highlight.”

Minho turned his head to look at you, smiling. Your eyes had adjusted slightly, allowing you to see the details of his face.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but the next thing you knew you were kissing him. Minho cupped your face with both hands and pressed his tongue against the seam of your lips, silently begging you to open your mouth. You did, gasping when he got impatient and nipped at your bottom lip.

You took the initiative this time and rolled on top of him, working your hands under his t-shirt to feel him up.

“Missed this,” Minho sighed, “missed you.”

“It’s only been like three days!”

“Way too long, if you ask me.”

You rolled your eyes but let the comments fuel your ego anyway.

He matched your pace and dropped his hands from your face to let them roam your body. It didn’t take long for them to find your tits, fingers brushing over your nipples underneath the fabric of your shirt. You rolled your hips against his, already able to feel that he was half hard through his sweats.

Minho groaned and broke away from kissing you to catch his breath, tilting his head back and swallowing hard. His hips stuttered underneath you, encouraging you to keep going. You took over and began kissing your way down his neck.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked breathlessly

You knew you were acting desperate but it’s because you were desperate. You were aching for him and your panties were beginning to feel uncomfortably sticky.

“Are you sure?” Minho asked, not answering your question.

“Yes, fuck, where are they?”

He propped himself up on his elbows and nodded down at his pocket. “I still have a few in my wallet.”

You sat up a little and brought one of your hands down to his pants, brushing your palm over his erection before fumbling for his wallet in his pocket.

“You’re a menace,” he hissed as he kicked his head back.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

You retrieved a condom and slid the wallet back into his pocket, tearing the foil wrapper open while you tried to get his pants off at the same time.

“Need help?”

“No, I got it,” you muttered.

You were able to get Minho’s pants down far enough to get his dick out and put the condom on him before pushing your own pajama shorts and panties to the side so you could ride him without having to take them all the way off.

“Wait, I haven’t even fingered you or anything,” Minho interjected, putting a hand on your stomach to stop you from lowering yourself onto him. “It’ll hurt.”

“We don’t really have a lot of time,” you argued back, “I’m really wet already. You don’t need to.”

“Bullshit,” he countered in disbelief.

You were starting to get annoyed. Why wouldn’t he just fuck you like you wanted? You could tell Minho was getting frustrated as well, confused as to why you were rushing into it.

“At least let me rub your clit a little first?” he pleaded.

You wanted to tell him that it really was fine, that you’d just need a couple of extra seconds to adjust to his size, but he was already running a thumb over your pussy, feeling around for the spot that would make your knees buckle.

“F-fuck,” you whispered when he found it, arching just slightly to press yourself into him further.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Minho asked, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

You couldn’t even deny it. “Yes.”

“Still gotta be quiet, though,” he reminded you, “don’t want to let those folks down the way know what we’re up to, huh?”

You nodded in agreement even though you had completely forgotten about the people having a bonfire on the beach. They were likely too far away to see the two of you in the dark, but you knew sound carried so you would still have to be careful.

“Can you put it in now? Just want to feel you.” You threw in a pout at the end just for good measure, hoping that would be enough to get you what you wanted.

Minho nodded and put a hand on either of your hips to help you. You sighed in relief as you sank down on him, finally feeling full. You were able to take him all at once but you did need more time to adjust to having him inside of you, to which Minho cockily mouthed I told you so at you.

Once the discomfort ebbed away you leaned down and pressed your chest to his, resting your head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively as you started rocking yourself on his cock, trembling at just how deep he could get at this angle.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you mumbled.

He carded a hand through your hair and cocked his head to the side. “What, having sex on the beach?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s a first for me too,” Minho admitted.

“Better make it memorable then, right?”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lino x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series #lee minho x reader #minho smut #lee minho smut #minho x reader

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pokemonshelterstories · 3 months ago

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Hi, I have an Oricorio (Balie), but I'm from Paldea. We only have two natural forms here, and all their nectar is imported (from Alola I assume, or a special greenhouse.) I was wondering, should I be offering all forms of the nectar to her at all times to let her choose her form? Or Should I only change her form if we need it for a battle? From what I looked up there's not a lot of Oricorio care online that takes into account not being in Alola.

i'm a bit confused as to your comment about the nectar, as we absolutely do have native plants that oricorio drink from. that's how our native oricorio population is able to eat and survive here in paldea.

as far as changing their forms, it's not really a huge deal either way. oricorio are dietary extremists and are able to survive solely on one type of nectar their entire lives without getting tired of it. you're welcome to offer a selection of nectar as enrichment, but research has found that most oricorio prefer the nectar local to the area they were born in. giving a variety of foods can be a lot of fun for the pokemon! but importing the nectars we don't have in paldea can get expensive, so i'd only order a little to start in case she doesn't end up wanting to eat them.

what matters more is that you aren't switching her styles out too frequently, as molting and regrowing those feathers takes a lot of energy. i wouldn't recommend switching the nectar out more than once a month.

#charlietalks #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #pokemon nutrition #pokemon care #oricorio

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luciferlaughs · 9 months ago

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Mekayla Bali's disappearance on April 12, 2016, from her hometown of Yorkton, Saskatchewan, has remained a haunting mystery, capturing the attention of both law enforcement and the public. The 16-year-old Canadian was last seen at a local bus stop between 1:00 and 1:45 p.m., sparking a frantic search effort that has yet to yield any definitive leads. The day before her diappearance, she visited the bank to have $25 wired to her account. Later, she texted several friends that she was upset and needed help with something, but no further explanation was provided. The day she went missing was marked by a series of perplexing events, adding layers to the enigma surrounding her case. She texted a friend at around 6:41am asking for a ride to the bank again, but the friend declined since the bank was closed. Her grandmother then drove her to school at around 8:10am. Surveillance cameras showed her putting her binder in her locker and then slipping out the back entrance. She hiked all the way to the bank, where she withdrew $55. She then went to a Wendy's/Tim Horton's restaurant, where, for the next hour or so, she exhibited strange behaviour. Footage shows her disassembling her phone and then reassembling it. Multiple times she left the restaurant, wandered around, and then re-entered. She spent much of her time talking on the phone and texting, including a friend whom she asked for help with something, only to follow it up with ''Nevermind I figured it out''. She also asked a random customer for help with renting a hotel room, but was turned down. At around 11am, she went to the bus stop and asked a stranger when the next stop to Regina would be. Since the bus wasn't going to arrive until 5pm, she left without purchasing a ticket and went back to school for the lunch period, where she met with friends and told them she was planning a trip to Regina. At around 12:03pm, she departed from school and went to a Trail Stop Restaurant, which was attached to a bus stop. She ordered food and left about an hour later. She was never seen by eyewitnesses again, nor was she captured on surveillance footage anywhere. Police were able to confirm she did not get on any bus that day, either. Over the years, various theories have emerged regarding Bali's disappearance, ranging from the possibility of her running away to concerns about human trafficking or falling victim to an online predator. Despite reported sightings and extensive police investigations, including the review of hundreds of hours of surveillance footage and interviews with potential witnesses, Bali's whereabouts remain unknown, leaving her family in agonizing uncertainty.

#true crime #murder #killers #crime #luciferlaughs #mysteries #mystery #cold case #cold cases #unsolved case #unsolved cases #unsolved crime #unsolved crimes #canada

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codenamesazanka · 5 months ago

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Initial 426 thoughts

Endeavor stole the scene here. I feel it's not so much Family-Shouto/Dabi reconciliation as Endeavor's atonement arc conclusion. Shouto nearly felt like a sideshow. Supportive younger brother asking the cute line about soba, then going back to school with a shonen 'I'm chasing my dream!' line.

Don't get me wrong, that moment was so good. Dabi during the battle swore that their lines/path would never intersect, that Shouto's was too straight and narrow, while his was warped. That was the memory Dabi's recalling as he cries. That he said they would run in parallel, remaining apart—but then here was Shouto, asking him about his favorite food, wanting to intersect. And they do - they have the same favorite food.

But I wanted more. And because we can't have more because of Endeavor, I want Endeavor to at least get yelled at for this. I imagine it already happened before this visit, when the family received the diagnosis. This is after that, this after those feelings had run its course and they're resigned to this, what's left to do.

And so Endeavor gets to have his one final cool line, which is infuriating because it is a good line, responding back to Dabi's invitation to dance. It's such a good line that wonder if Natsuo saying that line was cool isn't Horikoshi patting himself on the back. But it shouldn't have been delivered here on the epilogue. It should've been immediately post Jaku, and Endeavor had been prepared to truly taste the hell of dealing with his son directly.

Fuyumi says she quit but I wonder if she wasn't asked to resign, or felt she had to quit due to her being from a perpetrator's family. Especially since she has to say she's already got another job lined up, referred by a student's mother.

Hawks becoming HPSC head makes me livid. Toga should've killed him. He goes on TV and admits he killed a guy without following proper procedure, and he's HPSC president, who will be in charge of making sure Heroes follow proper procedure. I guess things at least are more transparent!

You know Hawks still doesn't think killing Twice was wrong. So if something threatening comes up in the future, he might well think 'KILL THEM' yet again, and being HPSC president, give the order to do so.

Get Nagant out of jail. If she's afraid of being used, give her a vacation in Bali. Why stay in jail????

Feels like Horikoshi is keeping her in prison because she'll be too troublesome to handle if she's out. She'll bring up questions like "Can she function in society after 15 years? (Answer tends towards no, she said the world outside prison is scary) What will she do now, after all that? WILL THE TRUTH OF THE ASSASSINATIONS EVER COME TO LIGHT?" And we can't have that.

I hate this cutesy-ness with Mr. Optimism Hawks. Jail is a joke now, because meals are provided at taxpayer's expense and Nagant has been moved to a lower security prison (but prob not anyone else). Call her Villain 😋 as if that's not a label that's gotten people unfairly judged, or justified their killing.

The facility Dabi is in is probably a Villain Hospital. Those exist - they've been referred to a couple of times in the manga and vigilantes. Probably a combination of prison and hospital. So of course the guard's uniforms look a bit like Tartarus uniform. But white.

Which makes it interesting, because SPINNER is still at Central Hospital. Too weak to be a threat?

SPINNER.

SPINNER. 😭😭😭 If you look closely, his eyes are open. You can see his pupils. He's looking over at the door opening.

I'm so scared. SPINNER.

SPINNER.

#nalslastworkingbraincell #spoilers #bnha spoilers #edited: the line 'that's gotten people unfairly judged and killed' to what's currently up there

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skaldish · 1 year ago

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GODS it does NOT have to be this bad and yet HERE WE FUCKING ARE, smack in the middle of a MASSIVE cognitive warzone all while the world's on actual fucking fire, and I can't even afford rent or food or dreams of owning a home. And yet I get to watch, free of charge, all this slimy tech CEOs making their final cash-grab before tanking their services and running off to Singapore or Bali or wherever because they KNOW regulations are coming on all these social platforms, and they're coming because they have to in order to, y'know, do something about the cognitive warfare problem.

EXCEPT our ability to regulate this on a national level is on thin fucking ice because, turns out, this warfare operation's been going on for so long that unhinged Dispensationalists are in political seats of power, blocking due process while trying to bring on the rapture.

Cognitive sovereignty should be a HUMAN RIGHT protected by law, but currently companies and advertisers have free reign to puppet human psychology like toys to get people to shell the fuck out for their imported garbage or the idea of a product. Because if they didn't have free reign to do this, it would make the money sad, and GOD FORBID we ever make the money sad.

God damn. I just want to go lie on the grass. Smell the dirt. Feel the rain. I can't handle this fake shit anymore. Everything feels hostile and I just want to own the roof over my head.

#rant #rant rant rant #zan bitches

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 5)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Under Age Drinking, Swearing and Making Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: Y/N’s confusion causes her to ignore Rafe after their midnight McDonald’s run. Midsummer brings about some upsetting conversation and sights.

Masterlist

Y/N lies in bed looking up at the ceiling after getting changed into pyjamas. She and Rafe have just gotten back from McDonald’s. She goes over the day’s events in her head, trying to figure out why she feels the way she does. Her date with Wilson was boring, but the time she spent with him was decent. He didn’t seem to really understand her. However, Rafe took her to the most mundane place in the world and she had an absolute blast with him. He could read her body language and understood what she needed. How could she be feeling this way about Rafe when Wilson is the one she is dating?

She shouldn’t feel this way towards Rafe. It must be a fluke, so she should ignore him until this feeling goes away. She should focus on her relationship with Wilson because it is the one with the potential to turn into something more. He is the one Y/N needs to be with. With the decisions made, she turns to her side and goes to sleep in hopes that she will stop thinking about him.

———

Y/N wakes up to a silent house, which is unusual when both Mason and Rafe are home. If it’s not music blasting from somewhere in the house because of them, then it is the shouts from whoever is losing at the game they are playing. She lazily strolls her way into the kitchen to see her mother at the kitchen island untying a take-out bag. It’s no surprise Cassie bought something to eat; she is just as much of a disaster in the kitchen as her daughter. “I ordered us some breakfast. Since your brother, Rafe and your dad are going for a morning surf and then to the country club for breakfast and golf, I thought you and I can have a girls’ day. I got some eggs benedict and after, maybe we can get our Midsummer dresses?” Cassie suggests while giving the food to her daughter. Y/N nods in agreement, “I love that idea! Could I invite Lace to come dress shopping with us?”

“Of course! She’s practically my other daughter. So… I saw you come home last night with your date and then a few minutes later, I see you leave the house again with Rafe for like an hour. What’s up with that?”

“Ummm, I was going to make a grilled cheese. Rafe suggested we go to McDonald’s and we went. End of story.”

“It can’t be. I saw the way he looked at you, Y/N/N. Before we left for Bali, you never wanted to be alone with him and now, you are going out with only him at midnight. Something has changed between you two.”

“It can’t be different. Nothing can happen between Rafe and I, I’m dating Wilson.”

“Whatever you say, sweetie. Are you going to ask Wilson to Midsummer?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait for you to meet him. He is a big fan of your earlier works.”

———

Y/N stands in front of the mirror looking at the dress she is wearing. Her mother picked this dress and Y/N is not exactly feeling this colour. It is a green asymmetric ruffled silk-satin maxi dress; the colour reminds her of puke and the ruffles made Y/N feel like she is a flower girl for someone’s wedding. Lacey, Y/N and Cassie come out of their respective changing rooms to show off the dresses they found. It looks like Lacey and her mom have both found the perfect dresses for them. Lacey is wearing a jaffa orange asymmetrical open-back midi dress and Cassie is wearing a light blue chiffon dress with a ruched waist, shoulder-wide straps, and a flowy skirt. When the other two look at Y/N’s dress, they both realize how wrong the dress is for the girl. Seeing their faces, Y/N immediately goes back inside to change into the dress Lacey chose.

The dress Lacey picked out is a pastel yellow halter-neck open-back dress. It is a pretty dress, but it is a little plain for Y/N. She goes out to show her other shopping companions. “No, it looks a little boring for you,” Lacey confirms Y/N’s suspicion. “Agreed. I don’t have any other dresses to try on though.” At that moment, Cassie returns with a blush dress in hand, “Here, try this on sweetie.” Y/N thanks her mother and goes back into the changing room to put it on. She looks at the blush cover dress on her. It is a blush chiffon lace midi skater dress, so it reaches just below her knees. Her straps are flower lace and the top is pleated a little so it forms a little v-shaped valley on her chest. It is simple, but the pleated and lace elements add the much-needed oomph to the dress.

She walks out of the changing room with a little twirl to show off her dress. This is the one. The smile on Lacey’s and Cassie’s shows their agreement with her thoughts. “Sweetie, it’s perfect. The colour complements you so much,” Cassie praises. Lacey nods her head, “You look so hot. Like damn girl. And we can make a flower crown with pink flowers to match with purple flowers to add some variety.” “Oooh, I love that idea. You can make an orange and blue flower crown. It would be so cute!” Y/N continues. Cassie’s mom beams at the excitement of the two girls, “We can go to the florist next, but right now, I need you both to change so we can pay for the dresses.

———

After finishing off a day of outdoor activities, Rafe decides it is finally time to go back to Tannyhill. Rafe wanted to go back to the Y/L/N’s house with Marvin and Mason, but he is running out of clothes and he knows he has to face his father eventually. The particular reason why he has been avoiding Ward Cameron this time is that Rafe had finally told his dad that he wasn’t considering being on the swim team when he is in university. Rafe wants to focus on school and intern for his dad during the semesters, so he thought that not joining the university swim team would help him find a good balance between the other two commitments he wants to prioritize.

Rafe enters the house as quietly as possible in hopes of not alerting his father to his arrival. However, he failed at doing so as he hear his father’s heavy footsteps come towards him. “Look who finally came back home. I was beginning to think you ran away from home,” Ward says harshly. “I just came back for more clothes,” Rafe grumbles, trying to get past his father. Ward stands in his son’s way in front of the stairs, “No, you aren’t going back there. We are your family, so you need to live here. Plus, we need to finish our conversation because you are going to join the swim team and intern for me at university.”

“You don’t treat me like family. You are too busy treating Sarah like a princess to even remember Wheezie and I exist. The only time you pay attention to me is when I fuck up. As for the swim team thing, I’ve already explained everything I needed to. I want to focus more on my studies and work. I can’t prioritize those things if I have to worry about getting to swim practice.”

“Don’t talk back to me! Sarah would be able to balance school, work and the swim team; you’re older, so you should be able to do the same! I worked my ass off to get to where I am now; I expect you to do the same too.”

“I’m sorry I’m not perfect Sarah but you have to stop comparing Wheezie and me to Sarah. I know how stressed I get with trying to balance the swim team and school work in high school. I’m trying to look out for my mental health and set my boundaries. Why can’t you just accept that I’m trying to be better mentally? Because a lot of people older than me would never try to do what I’m doing even though they need it way more than I do.”

Ward grew frustrated at his son as he realizes Rafe is actually making valid points, “Enough! I don’t want to talk about this anymore! Go to your room! You aren’t going back to the Y/L/N house any time soon.” “You’re the one who wanted to talk about his,” Rafe grumbles, shoving past his father to go up to his room.

———

Y/N and Wilson are sitting in her theatre room watching The Civil War: The Postage Adventure by Timothy Satonis. As one may guess, it is a documentary about the postage system during the Civil War. Y/N could not be bothered to really pay attention to what the boring narrator is saying because his voice is so dull and she could not care less about the postage during the Civil War. Wilson chose the film. Y/N tries cuddling herself into Wilson’s side because of how cold she is, but Wilson would not let her so she resorts to using a blanket and holding his hand.

Y/N speaks up to try to add some excitement to the movie, “So… Midsummer is coming up soon. And I was wondering if you would be my date?” “Yes, but can we finish watching the movie please?” Wilson answers. She listens to what he requests and scrolls on her phone while the movie plays. Once the movie is finished, Wilson and Y//N go upstairs to make something to eat. Y/N starts making grilled cheese for both of them. “I already picked out my dress. Mine is a blush colour, I can send you a picture if you want to match with me,” Y/N tells Wilson, buttering the bread and adding the cheese before putting it in the pan.

“No, I prefer to go for a plain black suit and tie with a gray handkerchief. It looks cleaner like that.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“So where is your mother? I have not had the chance to introduce myself to her yet.”

“She’s on the main island for a work meeting. You should be able to meet her at Midsummer.”

Wilson nods in understanding at the girl. The conversation can’t continue because Rafe and Mason enter the kitchen too. “Y/N/N, can you make me one too, please,” Mason asks as he sits beside Wilson on the island stool. “Yo, Y/L/N can you make me one too, please?” Rafe chimes. “Of course, Mace,” Y/N responds to Mason while ignoring Rafe. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe so he tries asking again, “Y/L/N, can you make one for me, please?” She ignores the boy again and continues to make the grilled cheese for the other two boys. She finishes up cooking and hands it over to everyone, but Rafe. After realizing she isn’t going to give him one, Rafe leaves the kitchen and goes up to Mason’s room. Mason could see the upset on Rafe’s

Mason eats his grilled cheese without engaging in conversation with the other two and goes upstairs to check on Rafe. “Why is she ignoring me?” Rafe complains with sadness in his voice. “I don’t know, dude. When did she start ignoring you?” Mason inquires. Rafe looks at him with an almost puppy-dog look in his eyes, “I’m not sure, I haven’t seen her since last week because my dad has been forcing me to sleep at home. But I know she was talking to me then because I took her to McDonald’s.” “Maybe she just had a bad day and she reset to before you started trying to befriend her. She just needs time,” Mason reasons. Rafe mumbles a sad maybe as he hopes what Mason says is true.

———

Midsummer. The excuse the elite use to display their wealth through clothes and to come together to brag about themselves. It is where young lovers will announce their courtship to the rest of the Kooks just to make other people jealous. Y/N is helping her mother get ready for the event by helping her with her hair and makeup. “My love, have you seen my tie?” Her dad inquires as he walks into his bedroom with a misbuttoned shirt and suit jacket on. Cassie looks up at her husband through the mirror and laughs at his dishevelled state, “Vin, it’s right here. With my dress, remember?” She gets up from her vanity and grabs the tie that matches her dress. Cassie rebuttons Marvin's shirt and then ties his tie for him. “You are the smartest person I know, Vin. But I swear, if I wasn’t here to screw you head on every morning, you’d forget where it is.” She finishes up the tie and gives him a kiss on the cheek before going back to her daughter.

As Y/N watches the domestic scene before her, she can’t help but wonder if she’d ever have moments like this with Wilson. She can’t imagine he is the type of person to ask for help if he needed it. Rafe would though, at least from her he would. Even if he didn't need it, he would still ask because he knows it makes her feel needed and happy. But Y/N and Rafe would never get moments like this. She shouldn’t want to have them with him. “Sweetie, did you hear me?” Cassie says, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

“No, can you say that again, please?” Y/N mumbles while focusing on her mom’s hair again.

“Are you driving with us or Wilson?”

“Wilson, he’s picking me up in 30 minutes”

———

Y/N answers the door when Wilson knocks. He is wearing exactly what he said he would, “You look beautiful, Y/N. Where are your parents? I should say hello before we go. ” “Thanks. And they are already on their way to the club with Mace,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile, making her way to his car. “Oh, I guess I will meet them there.”

During the ride to the country club, it is mostly silent until Y/N breaks the silence with an idea she had. “I was thinking of starting a YA book club at the country club. Would you like to join?” Wilson glances at her with a funny look on his face, “Do not be ridiculous. You know I do not read those silly books.” Y/N’s shy smile turns into a frown and she slowly slumps in her seat, turning towards the window. “All you had to say was no. You don’t have to be so rude about this.” Wilson sighs at this, “I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you. I just do not understand what you find so entertaining about those books.” “It’s fine, I get it,” she brushes it off curtly.

After a silent car ride, they finally make it to the club. They find Mason and Rafe near the bar upon entering. “Hey, Mace. How has everything been going on here so far?” It doesn’t go unnoticed by the boys that she is still ignoring Rafe. He wants to speak up but is afraid of being turned down by her and being embarrassed. He quickly looks away to not make her uncomfortable. “Hello, Y/N/N. Wilson. And it’s been okay. Hey, look you and Rafe are matching,” Mason points out after Wilson says his hello. At this, Rafe’s head turns to see what she is wearing. It’s true, she is wearing a blush dress that perfectly matches his blush suit jacket, which he definitely didn’t pick because it reminded him of her. She looked incredible in the dress. The way it kissed the bottom of her knees. The way the lace on the shoulders teased at the skin below. The way the pleats draw attention to her breast. The way the bright colours of her flower crown match the joy on her face. This may be his new favourite dress.

“Come on, I see my parents over there,” Y/N announces, ignoring Mason’s observation, as she drags Wilson over to Cassie and Marvin, leaving her brother and his best friend behind. “Mom, come meet Wilson.” The younger couple approaches the older one quite quickly.

Rafe stands near the bar with Mason, watching the scene with jealousy. Even though he’s known Cassie and Marvin for around 12 years now, he wants to be the one being introduced to them as Y/N’s boyfriend. Mason pats Rafe’s back in a comforting and sad manner. “Let’s go see if we can find that bartender that doesn’t check for id,” Mason suggests in hopes of cheering his friend up.

Meanwhile, Y/N is introducing Wilson to her mom. “Dad, you’ve already met Wilson. So mom, this is Wilson. We’ve been seeing each other. Wilson, this is my mom, who you might’ve noticed is Cassie Y/L/N.” Wilson eagerly reaches his hand out for Cassie to check, “It is lovely to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N. I love your early works. Your daughter is also great.” Cassie finds it odd that Wilson would mention her books before her daughter but says nothing about it. “Thank you. I’m very proud of both, but especially my Y/N/N.” At that moment, Y/N’s favourite song started to play. “Wilson, will you come dance with me?” He shakes his head, which again causes a frown on Y/N’s face, “I am sorry. I only dance to jazz or classical music. I will request one of my favourites so we can dance to that later.” “Oh okay, I’ll just go dance with Lacey,” Y/N reasons as she goes to find her best friend, while Wilson is talking to Cassie about her writing.

Rafe had been drinking to forget. Forget that all the progress he made with befriending Y/N had gone away for some unknown reason. All he wanted to do was forget about her and what a cliche way he decided to do it. He decides to hook up with Elizabeth Huntington to make his troubles go away. In hindsight, that is a worse idea because of who he decided to try to hook up with. Elizabeth is Y/N’s classic rival. Both girls are vying for the spot of valedictorian this year. Even though Y/N is much more introverted than Elizabeth, she couldn’t help but be a little jealous of Elizabeth’s life of the party personality. Rafe and Elizabeth are in a supply closet heavily making out and trying to rid each other of clothes. Elizabeth’s hands shoot to tangle in his hair. She gently tugs on it which causes him to groan out a name, just the wrong one. “Y/N.” Elizabeth immediately stops her assault. “Seriously? You’re just using me to forget about her,” she grumbles. She readjusted her dress before leaving the closet. Rafe groans again and runs his fingers through his hair. He leaves after fixing himself up, not realizing that Y/N is watching while she dances with Wilson.

Elizabeth leaving with a huff is what first caught Y/N’s eyes. She was curious about who Elizabeth was in the closet with. However, when Y/N sees Rafe exit the same closet as Elizabeth, her heart sinks. Rafe knows how she feels about Elizabeth and she thought he felt the same way every time they had a moment together. But she now sees she is wrong because if he did feel the same way, then he wouldn’t be hooking up with the person that makes her feel so insecure.

Rafe spots Y/N dancing with Wilson and he feels a pang shoot through his heart. Guilt about what he was about to do immediately washes over him. If Y/N had seen him, it could’ve been the end of anything they could’ve been. He knew she felt the same way as he did during their moments; if he ruined that, he’d never forgive himself. Little did he know it was already too late.

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @terraeluce

#thorn in my side rose in my hand #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron series #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you

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tempatmakanenak · 2 years ago

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0877-1985-3659 (TERLARIS), Rice Paper Supermarket Aceh

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yorit1 · 1 year ago

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Around the world

Kara was excited. It was her and Lena’s first wedding anniversary. Kara had the idea of taking Lena worldwide to all her favorite places. Kara was going to romance Lena and wine and dine her.

Lena arrived home and was surprised by what she saw. Kara was standing there in her nicest clothes.

“Get dressed in your nicest clothes. We are going out,” Kara said.

Lena went to get dressed and get ready, wondering what Kara had planned for their anniversary.

Lena was dressed and ready. Kara picked Lena up and flew them out. She flew them to dinner at the Eiffel Tower. They were going to have dinner there. It was a special place for them, and they were excited.

“Kara, I love this,” Lena said.

“Ladies, Do you need help?” the waiter asked.

“Reservation for Kara Danvers,” Kara said.

The waiter sits them at the table with the perfect sunset view of the Eiffel Tower at sunset. Kara held the chair out for Lena, and Lena sat down. Kara sat a cross from her and, took her hand, and held it in her own.

“I can’t believe we’ve been married for a year. It was a magical day, and I’m so happy that we are back here,” Lena said.

“Anything for my wife,” Kara said.

“I’m so thankful that I met you and that we became friends. You are the best friend that I’ve ever had. I always wanted to do good, but it was hard with my family. My family left me feeling so alone. You made a home for me. A home where I can do good for humanity and be part of a superhero team. I can do good and be with you my home. I’m finally not alone. I have friends and family, and that is what matters,” Lena said. “You are my best friend, my wife, my life and my home.”

“Lena, you are the best friend that I’ve ever had. You made it easier for me to deal with my two identities of Kara and supergirl. And these identities aren’t at war anymore now that I have you. I can be my true self with you, just Kara, and together we are able to accomplish everything I wanted,” Kara said.

The food arrived, and as they eat, Kara continues to hold Lena’s hand. They are holding hands as they are eating and looking into each other’s eyes. They are happy to spend time with each other.

When they are done eating, Kara leads Lena outside and kisses her in front of the Eiffel tower. Lena leans into the kiss, and the two of them are just happily enjoying the kiss and each other’s company. The kiss was magical.

“Ready for our next stop?” Kara asked.

Kara placed Lena in her arms and flew them to their next stop.

When they land, Lena sees that they are in Rome.

“WHat are we doing in Rome?” Lena asked.

“We are eating Gelato in Rome in front of all these monuments,” Kara said.

“I love Gelato,” Lena said.

“Yes, whatever I can do to make you happy,” Kara said.

Kara orders two Gelatos and takes Lena’s hand with her own. Lena took her gelato and gave Kara a bite of it. Kara happily ate it and gave a bite of her gelato to Lena. They kissed with the taste of Gelato on their lips. It tasted as sweet as their relationship. They were in love and happy that they were eating gelato in Rome. they continued feeding each other some and kissing between bites.

When they finished eating, they were walking around the monuments and looking around at their favorite sites. After that, they were ready to go to the next place. Kara picked Lena up and flew her. Lena happily smiled in Kara’s arms and kissed her cheek as they flew to their next spot. When they arrived, they were happy. They were in Bali, where they were going to sleep. It was a resort and an over water bungalow.

“Oh, this is beautiful, Kara. I love this. Happy anniversary. Thank you so much for all of this this has been a magical evening. I’m so happy that we get to spend tonight here,” Lena said.

“Here, I brought some bathing suits for us in the backpack. We can change and go into the water.

Lena and Kara changed into their bathing suits and entered the water. Lena sighed happily.

“This is perfect its paradise,” Lena said.

Lena took some water and splashed it into Kara’s face. Kara retaliated. The two of them started splashing each other in the face with the water. They were just having fun and enjoying their time. It was just the two of them there, and it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Lena leaned over and kissed Kara. the kiss was nice, and it tasted salty from the water. The kiss was beautiful, and as they kissed, they enjoyed each other’s company as they kissed. The kiss was magical.

Soon, the two of them entered the bungalow. And as they entered, they went to the shower and changed in the shower.

“Want to shower together?” Lena asked.

“Yea,” Kara said.

Lena and Kara showered together, and after that, they put on their pajamas and got into bed. Lena snuggled up into Kara’s side and placed her head on Kara’s shoulder.

“Kara, today was magical. I had a perfect meal at the eiffel tower. After that, some gelato in Rome. and finally, we had a nice swim in bali. We get to sleep in this bungalow and spend one year of the best year of my life. I got to spend my year with my best friend and my wife, and we got to spend it together that’s what matters to me that: we get to celebrate it together. I can’t wait for the rest of our life together, doing what we want and celebrating it together. I love you, Kara,” Lena said.

“I love you, Lena. You own my heart. My heart beats with the rhythm of your heart. I’m forever thankful that we met and we became friends. My heart belongs to you, and I will love you forever, Lena,” Kara said.

Lena leans over and kisses her, and the kiss is soft. And they snuggle into each other and fall asleep, thinking of each other.

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara zor el #supercorp fanart #supercorp fanfic #wlw post #wlw #wlw art #wlw love #wlw fanfic #wlwedit

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thelatebloomerdiaries · 20 days ago

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11.7.2024 Here's what happened in 2025

I have decided that my life doesn't have to be hard and I am going to accept the help of others. In 2025 I:

I did so well in my internship! I think all of the cute coffee shops, and library visits helped! I started also

👗😲💄Lost 60 lbs: the clothes I buy are so cute now. I'm so glad I didn't wait until the weight was gone in order to lose weight. I never thought people would think that I'm stylish, but dressing up before I lost weight really helped me with my personal style and now I always feel put together.

🧘‍♀️🧘‍♂️🧘I became a yoga teacher :) - I gained so much confidence and start teaching morning yoga and I had a blast!

💅✌️😌I opened my award winning beauty/wellness office - so many people supported me. I was so blessed and excited and I was able to help so many people!

🎓🎒🏫I finished my degrees and walked a few stages - It was so cool walking stages that younger me thought I never could. My family was so excited for me and we made a big trip out of my graduation trips!

🏯🚢🏝️I traveled to Tokyo, Bali, and went on a cruise

😃💖🏢I got the job of my dreams - A lot of people supported me during the process and I got an offer that I couldn't believe the offer I got! My benefits are amazing. I can't believe it!

💒👰🤵I got eloped in a beautiful little chapel surround by friends and family - I think my selkie gave old Hollywood in the 50s/60s we looked so cute and I enjoyed our intimate wedding. Omegamart was so fun and we even tried some good foods!

🤳🛍️💸I was able to make some money from content creation - not gonna lie, I felt really stupid at first, and at first no one looked at my channel, but one day it just took off. Little by little bit by bit I made it.

🙌😁🤝I inspired others around me to take action - Some of my family and friends even decided to go back to school after seeing my success.

🏠👩‍🦱🏪I got my new dream apartment in my favorite area - I can't believe this apartment, even with my previous credit issues. I got some months free in a new apartment and if I want to do something fun I don't even have to use my car!

🐶🦴🥣I got a Frenchie and a toy poodle - I really struggled naming them but they are so cute! They are healthy and get along great with my dog!

✈️🌍💼I traveled to see my mom - I love seeing her and spending time with her friends and us going to the spa, thank God I was able to work Remotely for a while.

⚡💲🔮I invested over $10,000 in the market - I almost didn't learn yoga, because the internet said I wouldn't make much money, but I took a chance I made so much money and even saw some growth in my other business that allowed me to invest in the market and see awesome returns!

In 2025 I was so amazed to see all that I had accomplished and all that God blessed me with when I finally let go and let God and actually showed up I was amazed how much I accomplished. When I let those that love me help me and stopped feeling like I had to do it the hard way, play small, work "hard" or do it alone I thrived. I received so many offers for good paying jobs, with great benefits before I even finished my internship or degree. I am so thankful that I stopped planning and started living, stop worrying about things that didn't matter I became the woman of MY dreams. I lost some people who weren't interested in the real me, but I gained so many friends, mentors, and good acquaintances. I am thankful for all I gained, and even what I lost because I know it led me to where I am now and I can't wait to see what 2026 has in store!

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 2 months ago

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Corrupted, chapter 25: FLESH. A Malevolent x TMA crossover

To quote Jonny Sims, there's a lot going on here.

Tim's got enough on his plate, but his story is clearing bisecting a lot of others. What does this Michael want? What is Dahl's problem? Are those trees going to move?

At least they're finally in reach of a body for Hastur, and Tim did promise. Fulfilling that can't be a bad move. Can it?

Corrupted, chapter 25: FLESH. A Malevolent x TMA crossover staring Tim Stoker and the King in Yellow.

AO3

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Jon is… not the most physically fit of individuals. It is possible he’s never rowed in his life. Tim has decided not to comment on all the puffing and moaning, as that would be cruel on top of everything else that’s happened today. It’s just another thing to go on the list.

For Tim, it’s been list time since they saw the island. They’re helpful, lists; keep things in order, on track, and prioritized, which otherwise would be lost or befuddled in the midst of mayhem and madness.

Item the first: this had not gone according to anyone’s plan, at least ostensibly. Jon was, they said, supposed to be sacrificed, and Tim sent along, passage paid. Oops.

Item the second: they had absolutely no idea where they were, but it was far too cold to be the North Sea—cold enough that this island with weird palm trees (also not right for the North Sea) made no sense.

Item the third: who had knocked on Tim’s door? If that someone hadn’t knocked, it all would have gone down as planned, and he wouldn’t have known anything happened. Oh; but then there would not have been a several week journey north, not at all, because Tim would have realized Jon was gone, lost his shit, and burned the ship with such heat that the bodies would be unsuitable for fish food.

Instead, someone had knocked, setting off the series of events that ensured Tim and Jon went together. Together, to… wherever this was.

At last, they pull the little life raft onto the shore, far enough up the icy, black-stone beach that they cross over to soft, silver sand. The air changes from frigid to funky at once, humid and hot, as if they literally took a single step into another world. Tim sits down at once, giving into exhaustion with a will. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this sore.”

Jon stares past him into the thick, strange jungle. “Me, neither,” he says, but it sounds perfunctory, like maybe he isn’t aware of the blisters on his hands right now, or the slight tremor in his entire scrawny form.

Tim eyes him. “Hey. Maybe sit down before you fall down, yeah? Not that I’m not convinced of your Herculean powers, but we’ve got nowhere to be, and whatever this is, I think we should be at our best.”

Jon’s face is a journey. “I know you’re right,” he says. “But I’m so desperate to know what in blazes this is and how it got here.”

“It’s not going anywhere.” Tim pats the sand next to him. “Don’t make me wield the oar at you in some ill-planned attempt to make you rest.”

Jon scoffs at him, but sits. It takes him a moment to do so without simply falling over.

“Now, aren’t you glad you didn’t go traipsing into the wild unknown?” says Tim.

“I suppose,” Jon drawls, and rests his forehead on his knees.

This… this doesn’t feel as it should, says Hastur.

“No, really?” says Tim. “Which part tipped you off? The ice floes or the abrupt transformation to Bali?”

“It’s not Bali,” Jon mutters pedantically into his knees. “Those are walking palms. Socratea exorrhiza. Endemic to South America, known for the urban legend that they ‘walk’ via those roots in search of sunlight, up to three centimeters a day. Complete bunkum, of course.”

Well, if that didn’t sound like some Fear-god shit, Tim’s head is an apple. He peers over his shoulder, adrenaline souring his mouth. They didn’t appear to be walking yet. “Three centimeters a day, you say?’

“They don’t,” says Jon. “It’s been heartily disproven, just shared by opportunistic tour guides and idiots online for clout.”

Tim swears he can feel those roots reaching for him already, digging into his back. “I don’t suppose you know where we are? Is this South America?”

“No,” Jon groans. "The sand is wrong."

No, says Hastur. And I should… Tim! We’re not alone!

Tim springs to his feet.

Down the shore, on the edge of the tree line, the shape of a man lying flat on the sand is easy to miss. He’s not moving; the weird dappling shadows from these trees hides him (and surely the palm trees in question aren't usually shaped like that, roots curving, branches asymmetrical, fronds somehow sharp, like a giant preying mantis).

“Shit!” Tim says, and scrambles up.

Be careful!

“What?” says Jon, finally looking away from the trees. “Where are you going? Hey!” he rolls over, staggers raggedly to his feet, and follows and by the time he gets there, the secret is already revealed.

Tim stares at the man at his feet. “It’s that guy. The one who came to get us at my uncle’s.”

Jon stares, too. “Tadeas Dahl?”

Tim toes him.

Dahl lies still, breathing, eyes closed. He’s bruised; it doesn’t look like he made contact with fists, exactly, but something with pointy corners and splinters.

Jon kneels and checks for a pulse at his throat.

“Well?” says Tim.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Jon says, blushing darker and pulling his hand away.

Check him for weapons.

“Right,” says Tim, who hates that this is a good suggestion, but knows he must. “Learning new skills every day,” he says, rummaging awkwardly through this man’s salt-soaked clothes. “Never thought I’d add looting the unconscious to my resume.”

One never knows when such things might come in handy, after all, says Hastur in a shaky tone.

“Sure, but maybe tone down the sexiness while I'm riffling a body, yeah?” Tim teases in return, just as shaky.

Jon missed all such hints. “Why is he here?”

“Not a clue. Maybe if he wakes, he can tell us.”

Jon looks into the woods. He swallows. “I need to see what’s in there.”

Tim is beginning to understand the need to do things—to respond to hunger so natural that one cannot distinguish it from one’s own. He knows he wanted to burn Lukas' ship. The Desolation made it worse, but the anger is all his. It is a sobering thought. “Can you hold off?”

Jon shivers. “For now.”

“Let’s… maybe not break anything, but grab some fallen leaves and shit and start a fire, yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Jon hesitantly. “If we can gather enough to burn.”

Tim does not say and assuming the trees don��t decide to come after us because that’s just asking for trouble. "Hang out here. I'll bring something back."

I’ll keep an eye on the trees. Don’t worry.

“You can only see what I can see, mate,” says Tim.

I meant setting up perimeter spells.

Tim blinks. “We can do that?”

We can. And happily, the worst case is you overpower them, and we are alerted to every bug and shadow.

“Not great for sleeping, if we’re going to do that, but I see your point,” says Tim. “We'll set them up when I get back. All right. Jon, stay with the guy, okay?”

“Okay.” Jon is all eyes, and looks like he feels very small.

Tim puts his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “You’ll be all right. If he stirs, shout. We’re just going there. Not far. All right?”

Jon gulps. “All right.”

“Girding loins, etcetera, etcetera,” says Tim, and nervously approaches the tree line.

One would think palm trees grew closer to the ocean than this. He’s seen pictures, though not like these; these ones begin in a sharp row as if they’d been planted. (Or, his brain supplies, as if they’re soldiers mustered and waiting for orders.) “I’m not doing so well at the not-freaking-myself-out portion of our operation,” Tim murmurs.

Tim… even if those things turn out to be literal monsters that can tromp after us, you have so much power that you could blow the whole lot to smithereens. I am not concerned for our safety in that sense.

“Can’t tell if that’s reassuring or not, if I’m honest,” says Tim, inching closer. So far, none of the palms have moved. None he sees, anyway. Gods, they’re freaky things, main trunks bent over like old men, numerous roots or branches or something digging into the ground at angles like too many legs. “Whoever designed these things needs their head checked,” he says.

Or their hearts. Fear is never rational.

“I wouldn’t say never,” says Tim, crouching so as to put as little of himself as possible under the auspice of those weird shadows. “It’s often very rational.”

Hmph.

“Eloquent.”

I have better things I want to do with my tongue.

Tim pauses. That’s distraction-flirting, or he’s a Yorkshire pudding. “I’m scared, too. It’s okay to be scared.”

Hastur sputters denial like an overfilled kettle.

“Hey. I mean it. I hardly mind the flirting—it’s my native tongue, after all—but I learned a while ago it doesn’t really substitute for communication, do you feel me?”

Hmph.

Tim laughs this time. “Good job on the using-your-words portion of the convo.”

I don’t need to be psychoanalyzed. It would hardly do you any good, anyway. I’m alien to you, inhuman. A being beyond psychological—

Tim puts the tip of Hastur’s index finger into his mouth and sucks.

Hastur inhales and goes silent.

“Sure. Totally different,” says Tim. “I just tasted salt water and whatever this undergrowth is to prove you're not, because I’m quite sure I know what you’re thinking right now, so I think I win.”

For fuck’s… you… that was so filthy!

“It was fine, Hastur,” says Tim. “I mean, it’s not like we have fresh water here, anyway. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

Hastur stills. You’re right. We will need to conjure it.

“That’s a thing I need to be careful with, yeah? Last thing I need to do is wash us off the spooky island and back into the frozen sea.”

Maybe. It’s certainly something to keep in mind as a last resort.

“Don’t think you made me forget what we were just talking about, by the way,” says Tim. “We—”

“Hello!” says a bright male voice, positively chirping.

Tim spins.

Utterly incongruous, a man stands there in the shade of the jungle. His hair is long, curly, and frames a smile that somehow leaves Tim in doubt as to just how many teeth there are. The guy is at least six and a half feet tall, wearing sneakers, jeans, and a button-down shirt designed in vertical, yellowish patterns that should be symmetrical but just… aren’t… quite.

Tim stares. “Uh. Hello?”

“Care for some flowers?” says the weirdo, and holds up a small bouquet of lilies. “Picked them up to play with someone else, but then I didn’t really know what to do with them anymore.”

Tim. Hastur’s tone is even, careful, measured. That is not a human being.

Blondie laughs, throwing his head back (and the number of teeth has definitely changed). The sound is terrible. It bounces around Tim’s skull, making him wince, feeling like the morning after a bender and struggling to get out of bed. “You! Calling out one such as me! Hilarious!”

Tim doesn’t want to take a step back. He wants to stay brave in the face of this, courageous and sure, but being near this thing is… dizzying. After a moment, he realizes one of the reasons why: the sunlight patterns and shadows this thing casts do not at all match his surroundings.

Tim steps back. “So. You’re the, uh. Game glitch avatar, is it?”

The thing laughs again. His eyes—which were blue, maybe, maybe—have become spirals, swirling like some attempt at cartoon hypnosis, but all it gives Tim is nausea.

He steps back again. “Right. Um. Nice to meet you. Keep your flowers. I, uh. Can’t really eat them, which is about the only interest I’d currently have, so.”

“Here, we’d been concerned as to your arrival,” says the guy, unmoving (except he’s closer than he was, isn’t he? Or maybe Tim is misremembering), and grins again. There’s something green stuck in his teeth this time. “An avatar of the Desolation, here? In our place of ritual? Oh, no no, that isn’t allowed. You know we don’t poach, people or places or ponies all. But then we realized you were the one we waited for.”

He’s closer. He’s definitely closer.

Weirdly enough, that isn’t what upsets Tim in the moment. “I’m not a bloody avatar.”

The being tilts his head; his hair moves wrong as it slides across his shoulders, dangling not quite straight down to his left. “No?”

“No.” Tim swallows, clenching his fists and wondering if magic would work on this thing.

“Twisting of truth is my bread and butter,” says the being, who is suddenly so close that if Tim leaned forward just as little, he could bite the guy’s nose.

(Was he always that close? Tim can’t remember. It suddenly seems like his thoughts are being overwritten, left double-exposed and uncertain.)

Okay, this is enough weirdness for today. “I,” Tim says, “am going back to the beach where my pet nerd and our uncouth prisoner await. You, I suggest, stay here in your… ritual forest. Whatever that’s about. We want nothing to do with it, all right? This was an accident. The boat. We aren’t here on purpose, if you pick up what I’m laying down. Yeah?”

“Oh, it’s far too late for that,” says the being. "Besides: you were expected."

Well, shit, thinks Tim, because that means dealing with a spiral-haired weirdo is next on his list. “Oh,” he says. “Ah,” he adds. “Well, let me, uh. Go. Get that fire started, so we can be warm, you know, human bodies and all, and then we can have a real heart to heart, you know, get it all out on the table?”

Another head-tilt in the other direction (or… maybe the same direction). “An official request?”

Tim has no idea what that means. “Sure?”

And another smile, brilliant, this time with teeth that seem to be studded with diamonds. “Knock yourself out.”

Tim backs away.

The guy doesn’t move.

Tim turns around.

The guy is right in front of him.

Tim yips a yip he wishes he had not yipped, and is fairly sure a few dignity-points have been tragically lost.

“One thing,” says the being. “To be here in company of Eye and Lonely is… curious? Unplanned for, at the least.”

“That’s me,” Tim blurts. “Curious!”

“No, I think that’s him,” says the guy, pointing back at Jon, which is when Tim realizes his hands are… long.

Really long.

Those fingers are like horrible spider-nightmares, unevenly jointed, graceful and alien and pointed like knives.

Tim makes one low sound in his throat.

“How very curious, indeed!” says the guy, and laughs.

That laugh. Tim winces, reaches up to press both sides of his head as if his brain were trying to escape—and in one momentary, teary blink, the guy vanishes.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Tim moans.

That… that was…

“A hell of a guy at parties, no doubt,” Tim mutters, and staggers back toward Jon, stumbles, and stops. “The… the grade of the beach is… different? Than it was?”

No, says Hastur quietly, almost gently, which is just a little bit terrifying. This is how it was.

“Ah. Ah-ah. Ha ha! My memory of it’s fucked then,” Tim says so cheerily he feels like he could take off into the clouds like an out-of-control helicopter.

Oh, Tim… it’s all right. I’ve got you. Your equilibrium is slightly off, but you’ll be fine. Take it slowly.

“Thanks, I guess,” Tim mutters, and trips his way back toward Jon.

Tadeas Dahl has woken up, sat up, and looks like absolute hell.

The bruises and marks on his exposed skin are rough and scraped, confirming Tim’s thought that he may have had an “accident” on some crates. Dahl’s gaze immediately locked onto him.

They’d made a little fire pit.

Tim remembers he was supposed to bring branches or something. “Oops,” he says, and flops beside them.

“Where’s the tinder?” says Jon.

“In the app store,” says Tim, and proceeds to laugh like a loon.

“Wh… what?” says Jon, staring.

“It is the result of his encounter,” Dahl ground out like the seaworthiest seaman who ever sailed the seas. “Give him time. He will recover.” His focus stayed on the fire pit, however, which he considered grimly. Moving stiffly, he shrugs out of his heavy peacoat, tears off one arm, and dropped it in the center. “That’ll light,” he says like grinding rocks.

“Um,” Jon says. “Maybe, but it won’t stay lit.”

“He can keep it lit.” Dahl does not move. Does not look up.

Jon looks at Tim, anyway.

This is news to Tim. “I can?”

“Yes. You need nothing to burn in order to blaze.” Dahl says this staring at where the fire ought to be, seated cross-legged, his face craggy and dirty and grim.

“Huh,” says Tim.

“No,” says Jon, drawing the word out.

Tim is not going to try—he knows better—but Jon is too much fun to tease, and he holds his hand over the spot in question. “So… you’re saying that with a little bit of willpower…”

“Tim, no,” Jon says in the exact tone one might use to chide a cat.

Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh, Tim thinks, and flexes his fingers. “Just a little bit of will…”

“Tim!” Jon says, all stern, and Tim loses it.

“Sorry, sorry!” he says, laughing. “Sorry! I won’t do it, don’t worry. Got no desire to burn us to death on an impossible island in the middle of the ocean, yeah?”

“That’s too bad,” says the weird curly-haired new guy from the woods. (Who had been there? Or just sat down? Or was already there when Tim arrived? Or—)

Jon yips like a trod-upon goose and scrambles backwards, kicking sand, so Tim takes that as a no.

The guy smiles at all of them, appearing perfectly human if weirdly tall, and then winks at Dahl. “Parties are fun!”

Dahl doesn’t answer.

“Are we having a party?” says Tim, leaning away, telling himself not to run because that brings the predators out of the shadows.

And the guy looks right at him, only… not at him, not at all, but the one who hides inside. “That depends on our guest of honor, doesn’t it?”

“Wh… wha… what is… wha…” Jon pants, staring at the guy like he’s never seen a person before.

Who, almost predictably, turns his head around fully like some wig-wearing owl to grin at Jon.

Jon makes a sound. It is not a good sound. It is the sound, perhaps, a bird might make when beginning to drown.

Tim redirects. “Mind explaining that, friend?”

The head swivels back around. “Oh… I’m not your friend. That would require personhood, which I distinctly lack. If you want to call me anything, you may use Michael.”

“May use? Not your name, then? We going with pseudonyms?”

“It is a real name,” says Michael whoever.

“Spiral,” Dahl grinds out, as if the act of speaking is costing him in blood. “Stop fucking talking to it.”

Michael laughs and waggles too-long hands in Dahl’s direction.

“It’s his island,” Jon says, barely audible.

Tim swallows. “What?”

Jon shakes like a wet puppy. “His. It’s all his. Twisted like… like he is. It’s his.”

Michael curls forward, propping his chin on his abruptly normal hands. “His. Ownership is such a silly concept; it requires a degree of identity I can’t ever retain. Let’s call it an interesting location.”

“Should, uh, we go?” says Tim. “Are you telling us to go?”

“You behave as though we didn’t have an appointment already arranged. Are you confused?” Michael’s eyes have gone twisted again, swirling like endless sinkholes. “That would be lovely.”

You, says Hastur suddenly. You have the god-flesh?

“Do I?” says Michael.

“Wait. This is Sannikov Land? Near the Arctic fucking circle?” says Tim.

“It was. Perhaps it is again?” says Michael.

“So I didn’t fucking conjure it by hoping for warmth! Ha!” Tim says, and laughs with relief, running his hand through his hair.

Dahl looks at him. Peers.

“What an interesting thought,” says Michael. “Does what you wish for usually appear? That strikes me as terribly helpful, or possibly terribly inconvenient, depending on whose side of things receives.”

Distortion, Hastur abruptly snarls. I need that flesh.

“Easy, there,” Tim murmurs, because this situation is pretty fucked up.

Where is it? Where?

Michael laughs. Just laughs, and the experience is like being knocked on the head with a hammer. Tim gasps and covers his ears. Jon keels over, eyes rolling back.

Dahl stares at Michael hard, very hard, so very hard, and yet the act of his focus seems to be dimming things, as if he’s summoned a fog from the impossibly cold sea.

Before Tim has a chance to so much as shout, he’s alone.

He leaps to his feet. He can see no one; no silhouettes, no shadows. “Jon!” he shouts. His voice goes nowhere, as if swallowed. “Hastur?”

I’m here. Hastur sounds breathless. I’m here. Fuck. It tried to take me.

“To… to what? What tried to what?” says Tim, taking a step back into nothing, away from nothing. He can see nothing, not even his feet, not even his hands if he holds his arms out. “Shit,” he mutters.

It’s all right. I know what happened, and I think… I think we are going to be given a dreadful rescue.

“What?” says Tim. “Jon! Jon!”

Wherever he is, Tim, he can’t hear you. Can’t you feel where we are?

Oh. Oh, Tim can feel it. Distant. Separated. Abandoned. Forever wandering, never seeing a beloved face, never even having a real conversation. Never connecting.

Yes. He knows where they are. “The Lonely is a fucking place.” And he trips over something behind him and goes down hard.

Tim!

“What in hell… oh, gods.” It’s a tombstone. Weather has eased its markings, or maybe they were never there, and it’s only age-pitted evidence that an unknown body lies there.

Abandoned even in death. It is the loneliest fucking thing Tim has ever seen. He’s frozen.

Tim. You’re all right. I’m with you.

He’s not alone. “It tried to take you?”

It did. It couldn’t. Hastur sounds confused over that, torn, as if he’s not sure if it’s good or bad. I don’t know why not. Even if you’d had Jon in your arms, you would have lost him.

Tim can’t stop staring at the anonymous stone. “It’s your spell, and you don’t know how it works?”

Not here. We are not in a place, Tim. We are inside a being, feeding off our fear and agony. I don’t care to give it too long to figure out if it can pry us loose.

“Rescue, you said? And what the fuck was Dahl doing?”

I believe he panicked.

And then from directly behind them comes Michael’s voice: “He did! Ah, well. Not everyone can be… level-headed.” And that laugh bounces out, sharp angles in soft mist, a knife through angel food cake, and Tim spins toward it with his hands in fists as though to knock it out of the air and discovers, instead of Michael, a yellow door.

It’s just sitting there, solid as you please, its frame and knob both black.

Our rescue, says Hastur.

“What,” Tim states, and walks around it. Of course, there’s nothing on the other side.

Dahl summoned his god, but we are in a place of non-existence. The Spiral—with whom our illustrious boss Bouchard has made whatever deal—intends to follow through.

“Or betray us in a spectacular manner,” says Tim.

Maybe. It’s better than this. We need to get out of this.

Tim shivers. “What happens if it pries you free?”

I… don’t know.

“Do you die?”

I don’t know, Tim.

What an absolutely insane day. “You know, six hours ago, we were on a boat and being betrayed by the last guy Bouchard did a deal with.”

To be fair, it’s Jon he betrayed, not us.

But something still nags at Tim. Some instinct, though he isn’t sure what it’s leading him toward. “I don’t think it’s that cut and dried.”

Oh?

He can’t place it. He doesn’t know enough. “I don’t think he assumed it would go according to plan, that’s all.”

All right. I’m not sure what that has to do with this.

“Won’t surprise me if there’s a few more layers of dastardly scheming going on here, is all I’m saying,” Tim says, reaching for the black doorknob. “So if we end up tied to some train tracks or something, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Hastur’s tone goes amused and warm. Given your power and lack of control, Tim, I’d say it would be far more beneficial to warn the train.

Tim scoffs. “Butter me up, why don’t you,” he says, and turns the handle.

Inside is an impossible hall. It’s got ugly yellow carpet with a black runner on top, weirdly smeary patterned wallpaper, and what might be gas lamps. Tim peers through the door. The hall goes left and right, utterly identical. There are no other doors.

“To hell with this day,” Tim mutters, and steps through.

It feels better than the Lonely, but also… bad? It doesn’t seem to be quite level, and Tim finds himself leaning. “Hello?”

Nothing.

He sighs. “Don’t suppose there are any straightforward monsters serving Fear gods?”

Yes. The Desolation tends to choose such followers.

“Oh.” Tim decides cursing a blue streak won’t help this situation. He goes left.

The hall stretches forever; somehow, the lights never seem to touch more than a few meters ahead, and perspective makes it feel like they’re walking into a darkened pinhole.

They’re not, though. Apparently, they’re not going anywhere. Tim keeps walking. “Hey.”

Yes?

“You got, uh. A little pushy about the god-flesh thing.”

Hastur growls. (Tim will never get used to that. It’s just not a sound people do, and he kind of digs it. A lot.) It is mine, by right, and they’re keeping it from me.

“Spiral,” says Tim. “I’m going to guess, all right? That Michael managed to make me doubt my own senses. It’s some sort of… madness fear?”

You were closer with your description. It is the fear of being unable to trust yourself. Your thoughts, opinions, what you perceive; whether, for example, you are eating food, or the flesh of your beloved pet. Truly terrible.

“Sounds like a fear of dementia,” Tim says, frowning.

Is it not a thing to fear?

“Well, it… to fear, yeah, but catastrophizing it might not be the—”

The floor drops away.

There was no warning. He was walking on strange, crunchy carpet, too stiff to be old, too worn to be new, and hating the way it sank under his shoes, when between one step at the next, it was gone.

Tim gasps as he falls, seeing nothing.

Shit!

And Tim does his best to will a landing that doesn’t hurt.

He… might have overdone it.

He hits bottom, and bounces off it like something out of a cartoon. Out of control, he ricochets off what might be a shelf judging by the sound of breaking glass, then wildly rolls (still bouncing) through what he thinks is a table and into a wall.

He’s completely unharmed, but oh hell, did he wreck the room. He blinks, adjusting to the darkness. It’s a room filled with…. things?

Wax figures, but not good ones; weird ones, leering at nothing. Strange books, piled and moldy, pages strewn around. More than one gleaming knife, reflecting light that isn’t there. A creepy pocket watch, dripping blood with every tick and dangling from a chandelier that has eyeballs instead of candles. What looks like a suit made of a person—if a person could simultaneously be a snake, like this being leaped straight out of 1950s sci-fi. A mirror that doesn’t quite follow Tim’s movements, reflection a split-second behind, angles a hair’s breadth off.

He stands. “The hell is this? The junk-shop of the gods?”

Michael’s laugh hurts down here as much as it does up above. “Do you want what you came for, Son of Anger, Child of Wrath?”

“I’m the child of Rob and Samantha Stoker, thank you very much,” Tim says more firmly than he feels, but he is overridden.

YES. And that, Hastur bellowed.

Michael appears (or maybe was already there, and Tim can’t remember). He doesn’t look human now; he’s all drawn out, attenuated, just close enough to expected proportions to make a viewer doubt the limb they just looked at, and his smile hovers in front of his face, detached. “Then payment will come first.” He raises one hand, and between his two-long fingers is some sort of paper.

Tim stares. “A contract?”

Michael laughs (and Tim winces). “No, no, no! This is the payment. Burn it. Burn it all. Burn it so completely it is never seen again, it is forgotten, it is removed from history like sinew torn from flesh, like memory unrecorded, like family secrets and truths learned while drunk. Burn it until it is gone.”

Tim shivers. Shudders. Swallows around his suddenly dry tongue. He wants to burn it so badly. “This, uh. This is what Elias promised you, eh?”

“Elias.” Michael’s smile is real this time, and Tim isn’t sure how he knows that, but it is a terrible thing. “Yes. Elias promised. And then you will have your prize.”

“What we came for,” says Tim. “Exactly what we think it is, not some trick.”

“‘We?’” says Michael. “Certainly.”

Hastur, Tim thinks. Please tell me you’re not pulling some scheme here.

No. We are one in this.

They’d better be. “What is it I’ll be burning?” says Tim.

“A record,” says Michael, still holding it out.

Tim takes it. It’s a birth certificate for someone named Gerard LaVey Keay, born 1981. “Okay,” he says. “And who’s this unlucky fellow?”

“Oh,” said Michael. “What is a ‘who,’ anyway?”

“Riiiiight,” says Tim. “What’s it going to do to him? In plain English, if you can?”

“Well, he’s already dead,” says Michael, and laughs like broken glass.

Tim grunts. “The fuck are we burning it for, then?”

And the smile melts. The Michael melts. The human guise vanishes, disappears completely, leaving a creature of long, staticy shadow and knife-sharp limbs. “Freedom,” whispers whatever Michael truly is.

Tim. I need this.

“Some rando could be harmed in the making of this one, Hastur.”

I. Need. This. And you promised you would help me. That eagerness is there again, that almost violent push he’d shown on the beach.

Tim stares at the birth certificate. “Already dead.”

“Oh, yes,” says unsmiling Michael, at whom Tim cannot look for more than a moment.

“Not free, though. Trapped?”

“In a book. Undignified and painful,” says Michael.

Oh. Oh, shit.

Tim. Please.

How incredibly poetic. Tim sighs. “Guess the old conscience can take one more for the team." And he wills the certificate to burn.

Just this. But so thoroughly that no copies of it remain, so thoroughly that its existence melts from the minds of those who have seen it, so thoroughly that he feels a dozen little spark-points lighting and extinguishing themselves even in computer systems throughout the U.K.

And he wills it not to spread with all his might, though too much of him wants it to consume.

Not today, Satan, he thinks at himself, at the Desolation, at the anger that simmers in him like a tar-trap in his soul. Not today.

The paper in his hand is ash. There aren’t even fragments for some aspiring forensics examiner to examine under a microscope. He rubs his hand on his trousers.

“Yesssss,” hisses Michael, and disappears, staticy limbs briefly crackling, and Tim’s hair goes on end as he is zapped.

“Ow!”

Oh, Tim… breathes Hastur.

In Michael’s place is a weird glass tube, standing on its end. It’s long, just wide enough that Tim might struggle to hold it with both hands, sealed at either end with a black metal cap, and containing a surging, steaming, bubbling mass of almost-liquid flesh.

“Oh, gross!” Tim says.

Oh, Tim, Hastur breathes again. It’s beautiful.

A weird creak startles them. Tim eyes the walls. “They’re… closer than they were.”

Shit. Pick it up. We need to get out of here.

Tim does, needing two hands after all, and it is cold, and the whole thing jerks in his grip as if trying to get loose, and—“Uh. How?” No door. No stairs. No exits. Even the hole in the ceiling is gone.

Another creak. The walls are definitely closer, shelves trembling, items rocking back and forth.

Tim!

Tim spins. He could portal, But could he portal to Jon? What if he ends up in the ocean again? Or the desert? Or on the moon?

Another creak. More items rocking together, their quiet, fading sounds a warning.

And the glass tube he’s holding is not behaving well. Whatever is in there surges, bubbling, growing very cold. Tim hisses an inhale, putting it quickly down.

No!

“I can’t hold the damn thing!”

Another creak. Tim looks up. He saw nothing move, but suddenly, there is almost no room left. The table is nearly on top of him. The shelves are so close he could reach them all by stretching out his arms. Above, a single merry-go-round music box overbalances and falls, smashing to the floor in pieces.

Open the glass!

Portal. He has to portal. He can’t leave Jon up there alone and has to get it right. “Just a second!"

Just break the damn thing!

Fuck it, what do they have to lose? Tim kicks it over.

It shatters. Gluey flesh slides out, organ-like, as if it’s all made of half-melted kidneys.

Portal to the beach, he thinks, nauseated, trying to imagine a neat and well-behaved space right next to their little fire-pit, not sucking in air or swallowing ocean or doing anything insane like dumping this entire room on Jon’s head. Portal to the beach, he thinks, gathering his will, trying to make it small, trying to make it controlled, trying to ensure this doesn’t go as horribly wrong as it might—

The flesh climbs up his leg.

Tim shouts, leaping backwards, doing a one-footed dance and kicking as hard as he can, but it does not leave. Ice-cold, gripping, it slides up his thigh so fast he can’t even swear before its cold, cold self steals his breath away.

In a blink, it’s slid under his clothes and all the way up and covered his face.

Hastur!

Don’t breath! Hold on! Hold on!

Another creak, which Tim can’t now see, and he’s shoved roughly forward by the spine-bruising shelves, and pressed painfully into the thigh-high table, and he’s trapped, and is about to portal fucking anywhere, except would that bring this cold shit with him, and is that safe, would it stay behind, is it like The Blob, would it eat anyone he introduced it to, is about to damn the world by escaping—

There is a snap in his head. A ripping feeling behind his eye. A terrible, nose-bleeding, sharp-fuck pain somewhere in his brain and down his spinal.

Stroke? he thinks, and then he’s punched.

No, not punched. Something heavy slammed into his stomach, pushing out all his air, and it’s an arm, and the body holding him is large and male and just a little cold, startlingly cold, and he can suddenly breathe, gasping, but there is nothing to see, and they’re tumbling in darkness and whirling upside down and—

With a whoof, he lands flat on his back in the sand, close enough to Jon that Jon shouts, “Fuck!” as Dahl emits a single grunt of surprise.

And there is someone on top of Tim.

Someone he can see with both eyes. Someone who almost looks human, but not quite, not with that bone structure, that perfect night-dark skin, those irises like golden fucking polished rings. Someone grinning, long black hair falling down to frame both their faces.

Someone who is, without a doubt, the fucking hottest being Tim has ever seen in his life. Also, he is naked.

Tim can’t quite catch his breath. Half of that is falling through the void, and half of that is… “Hastur?” he says.

“Yes,” Hastur says, that tremendous voice outside his head, and Tim thinks dazedly that he had been right on his parents’ living room floor all those days ago: that voice feels hella nice vibrating through that chest.

“Uh,” says Jon. “Tim!”

The shock of cold, icy ocean makes Tim jump hard enough that he almost throws Hastur off (almost, but not quite, because that guy is solid). They both scramble to their feet.

Jon screams. Just screams, and points behind them, already up to his ankles in water.

So two things are happening here

So either the tide is really aggressive on Sannikov Land, or the island is fucking sinking. And also, the walking palms are living up to their name.

Absolutely silent and utterly alien, the trees are coming down, not like Ents, bent over and predatory, and Tim can’t help his own little scream as he sees them.

“The boat!” Jon cries.

Tim spins.

The boat is out to sea with Dahl in it, rowing away all by himself.

“Ha,” says Hastur. “I will—”

He never gets the chance.

The absolute outrage that grips Tim’s soul damn near does them all in. Light from him changes the shore, turns the gray sand gold, casts their forms in die-cut shadow. How fucking dare Dahl take the boat and leave them behind? They could portal out. They won’t now. That’s their damn boat. “You fucking thief!” Tim howls, and pulls.

Pulls what? He doesn’t know. But that boat suddenly comes reversing toward them, slamming backwards through the waves, and Dahl casts one wide-eyed startled look at them all before being knocked down into the boat as it rams into the shore stern-first.

“Get in!” Tim snarls.

Jon does at once, looking utterly spooked, like maybe he saw just however Tim did that pulling, judging by how pale he’s gone and the way he’s staring, and that fear feels good, and maybe it’s time to turn around and give those fucking trees a reason to walk themselves back to their spooky forest, and—

Hastur steps between them, filling Tim’s view, and places his hands (now horrifyingly cold, it seems) on Tim’s face. “You succeeded. We have to go. Let the anger fade.”

If he’d poured cold water down Tim’s shirt, it couldn’t have been more effective.

“Tim!” Jon’s calling. “Tim!”

Tim shakes himself. “What…”

Hastur takes his hand (not as cold now—cooler than his own, but not unpleasant) and drags him for the boat.

Tree-limbs, mantis-like, come down where they were, hard enough to leave divots in the sand.

“Oh my gods,” Tim says, finally seeing this clusterfuck for what it is.

Dahl is huddled in the bow, looking terrified.

“Come on!” Jon demands.

Hastur lifts Tim into the boat (holy fuck) and hops lightly after him.

Tim ignores the paddle. “Everybody hang on!” he says, and wills them to move.

The boat takes off as if rocket-powered, flying through the water at enough speed that it rises on either side of the bow like wings.

Hastur smiles. Raises his hand.

The ice floes ahead of them begin knocking aside before collision, wrenched as if by a giant hook to pull them off-stage. Tim has no idea why that was the image that came to mind, but it did, and he starts to laugh.

Behind them, a chorus of groaning wood rises to the sky like the trees are screaming, and they continue to wave, undulating on mantis-legs, until the island fully sinks beneath the waves and is gone.

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

Notes:

So yeah, here's a walking palm.

Socratea exorrhiza, the walking tree in a jungle in Costa Rica. (GaiBru_Photo/Getty Images)

To quote some of the best characters in fiction: NOPE.

Also? Michael's shirt exists. This hideous thing discovered by TheGreatJellyfish on Reddit.

#malevolent fic #tma fic #malevolent crossover #tma crossover #tma x malevolent #tim stoker #kiy #hastur #corrupted fic

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