#THE ROAD IS ABOUT TO GET ROCKY SO BUCKLE UP AS THE SHOW SHIFTS INTO MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE

[tfp-is-prime]

Transformers: Prime Season 1, Episode 23: “One Shall Fall”

Original Airdate: September 24, 2011 2023 TFP Rerun Date: September 24, 2024

[Watch on YouTube]

Synopsis, courtesy of Apple: Megatron's attempt to fulfill an ancient Cybertronian prophecy results in one of our heroes becoming mortally wounded—and leads to a long-awaited rematch.

[inorganicone2230]

Time and Time Again (Part 1) 1930′s Yandere!Overhaul x Fem!Reader

Prologue TBC in Part 2

Summary:  An accident that should have killed you has instead left you stranded decades in the past with no apparent way to get home. You are saved and offered assistance by Kai Chisaki, a charming young man at the head of a powerful yakuza organization, who oddly enough believes your story. But Kai seems to have more on his mind concerning you than simply lending a helping hand, and as the days turn into weeks, you begin to wonder if he’s ever going to let you leave.  

Warnings: None for this chapter. Warnings and tags will be updated as the chapters progress.

Side Note: I do NOT and never will condone the actions committed in  this and future chapters, please be mindful and respectful of the fact  that all of this is purely fiction.

And as always, I want to give a BIG thank you to my amazing friend @talpup for all the brainstorming and encouragement on these stories!  I’m sure I would have given up on this blog a while ago if it wasn’t for  all of their help. I highly encourage anyone who takes the time to read  this to go over to their page or their AO3 account under the same name  and check out their works, especially Chaos and Erase The Shadow. They  are two of my favorite BNHA fics of ALL TIME!

Frigid and stiff.

Those were just a few of the words that came to you as your eyes began to flutter open, the slight facial movement causing the splitting pain in your head to become the forefront notice of your mind. The rest of your body was sore and stiff as well, but your head was where the pain was the worst. You were wet, your clothes drenched, the cloth water logged and heavy as you tried to push yourself up. It hurt to move, but at least it didn’t feel like anything was broken or dislocated, that was a plus in your book.

Gingerly turning your head to look around, it took your brain a few moments to process and catch up with the events of what happened before you woke up in this state. It all came rushing back to you at once, the walk, finding the old path that led to the cliff and then the sudden breaking of the ground under your feet as you screamed and fell over the ledge. You tried to recall if you remembered hitting the water, but the rest up until now was blank, meaning you must have passed out during the fall. Your vision was blurry and your brain felt like mush, but even those handicaps didn’t get in the way of you determining that this place was nowhere near the spot you originally fell from. From what you could recall of the spot where you were before, one side of the river had been right up against the cliff wall that you had fallen from, you still had no idea how you survived a fall like that, and the other was along a rocky shore and a forest. Now though, the waters of the river were much calmer and the stretch of water was flanked on either side by sand and thick forest, the current having likely carried you quite a ways down before you washed up on this little shore.

On pure instinct, you reached into your still zipped up pocket for your phone, along with its accompanying solar powered charger and were amazed to find that the expensive waterproof/shock absorbent case had done its job and protected the delicate tech device’s. It turned on just fine and there wasn’t a scratch on it, but it was telling you that you had no service, so you would still need to find some sort of civilization or an area near a cell tower before you could get help.

“This is bad.” You said to yourself as you finally stood up on shaky legs. The movement caused your already splitting head to pound even harder and when you pulled your hand away from your temple, you were unsurprised to find that what you’d been hoping was just water running down your face was actually blood. “And it just keeps getting better and better.” You groaned, internally chastising yourself for not having brought a little first aid pack just in case and vowing to do so from now on no matter what.

Looking around, it was impossible to tell where you were or how far down the river had carried you, but you figured that your best option would be to follow the flow of the water and hope that it would eventually lead you to some place you could get help from.

As you slowly began making your way along the bank of the river, it didn’t take you long to realize that the sun was beginning to set already and what very little warmth the day had to offer was quickly disappearing as the sun sunk lower and lower behind the mountains. Your clothes were still saturated with water and you were so cold that it physically hurt to move, it was impossible not to focus on it when every move you made brought the reminder to the forefront of your mind as the bitter cold material clung to your body and made you shiver to the point that your teeth were chattering uncontrollably. If you didn’t find help soon, it was likely you wouldn’t make it to see the morning. If the exhaustion didn’t make you keel over first, then the next option you’d have to take a guess at would be hypothermia setting in, but you needed to keep going, you had to find someone to help you or you were a goner.

So, despite how painfully cold you were, you did what you could to ignore it, along with the throbbing ache in your head and pushed on further into the darkening forest.

—————

Something was wrong...

It was pitch black out and it took about two hours of near painful and freezing walking, but you did eventually manage to find a road. There was a distinct lack of streetlights though and if it weren’t for the headlights of the occasional passing car, you may have missed it entirely, but that wasn’t what was bothering you, not entirely at least.

No, what you were finding odd were the types of cars that were passing you.

Oldsmobile was the word that came to mind when you managed to get a decent look at them. Every single one looked like they were brand new, like they were from the turn of the century or something straight out of a period piece style movie. Not that there were many cars out and about, but of the few that had passed by, not a single one seemed to be a newer model. It made you wonder if there had been some kind of event going on nearby, like a car show or something similar, but that didn’t explain why every car driving by looked like it was from a different era.

However, the model of the cars wasn’t your biggest concern right now, what was truly your greatest dilemma was that none of them were stopping to help you. You had tried to flag down every single one that passed and they all either just kept going or outright picked up speed. Your cell phone still wasn’t picking up a signal either and by this point, what little bit of adrenaline you had been running on before was now gone and you could feel the stress and fatigue finally starting to hit you. Walking was becoming increasingly difficult and with every meager step you took, you could feel your head pounding harder and harder. All you wanted to do was pass out and sleep for days, but doing that here would more than likely mean a death sentence.

Tears brought on by both fear and frustration began to roll down your cheeks as you took another painful step, your knees locking up and almost buckling under your weight. A broken sob escaped and that one sob led to more and more following in its path as you stumbled down the darkened roadside.

“Please… someone help…”

—————

“I want this leak taken care of by morning Hari, the last thing we need right now is the police sniffing around where they’re not wanted.”

“Understood Sir, I’ll inform Rappa that he’ll need to pay them a visit tonight.” The driver of the sleek black Packard replied, his gaze briefly shifting to his rear-view mirror to make eye contact with the handsome golden eyed male in the spacious back seat.

“No. Rappa’s too messy and we need this handled quietly and efficiently, but it still needs to send a message to anyone looking to capitalize on our name and turf that this kind of behavior won’t be overlooked.” The man’s gloved fingers tapped against his knee in thought for a moment before coming to a conclusion. “Send Nemoto instead. Tell him to make it look like a generic hit, like another organization was icing out their competition. Execution style should look standard enough.”

“I’ll handle it as soon as we get back.” Hari replied. “It’s late, but is there anything else you wish for me to handle before tom- what the hell?” Hari’s voice trailed off as he spotted something, or rather someone, walking along the roadside as he slowly drove by. It was too dark to make out the features while in a moving vehicle, but whoever it was, they were far too shapely to be a man as far as he could tell.

Kai heard the way Hari’s sentence had trailed off and he glanced in the same direction his lieutenant’s gaze was briefly focused as he continued to drive and watch the roadway. It took a moment for his eyes to spot what had caught his attention but when he did, he was rather surprised. 

Walking along the side of the road was a strangely dressed woman. It was hard to tell what she really looked like in the brief moment that the headlights had hit her, but she appeared to be in trouble. She had her arms wrapped around herself as she shivered from the cold mountain air and it looked as if she was soaking wet, not a good combination in these kinds of open elements. Normally Kai wouldn’t have cared about some nobody, but this was an isolated mountain road miles and miles away from any towns or people and she didn’t appear to be prepared to handle this kind of terrain or temperature. Her clothes, while strange looking and not normal for a woman, seemed to be ill equipped for being out here and her shivering posture only added to that conclusion.

As a young child, Kai had been abandoned and left for dead on the streets, surviving on nothing more than his wits and determination to stay alive. This was how his life had stayed for a good number of years, but that all changed one summer when he’d met the man that helped forge him into who he was today, the man that took him in and raised him up to be strong and confident, the man who gave him everything.

Pops.

Pops had found him on the streets and gave him life again, had fed and clothed him, hired all the best tutors to teach him how to read and write as well as an assortment of other curriculum's, had treated him as if he were his own son. And one of the most important lessons that Pops instilled in him was to always treat a woman with a certain amount of respect and dignity, to be a gentleman. Kai took everything Pops taught him very seriously, and that included this. So while Kai himself wasn’t some paragon of virtue or that good of a person by any stretch of the word, seeing a cold and lost young woman alone on an empty mountain road, he couldn’t help but flash back to all those lessons and feel the need to help her. Though his curiosity over her strange clothing and wanting to know what exactly she was doing out here definitely played a part in deciding his next decision.

“Hari, pull over.” Kai ordered, his tone firm and commanding.

Hari did as he was told without question, the moment he had seen the woman he knew that this was more than likely going to happen. Kai was nowhere near being a model citizen, but he wasn’t a complete monster like most believed him to be, his acts of kindness were simply very selective and few and far between. In many ways, Kai’s anger was like an irritable cat having its fur stroked in the wrong direction; if one played by Kai’s rules and did everything as he expected, then he would remain content, if one didn’t play the game by Kai’s standards… well then they better pray that his claws were the worst of their punishment.

Kai told Hari to stay put in the car and to keep it running as he stepped out to look towards the young woman who was now illuminated by the headlights. She was a tiny little thing already, but the way she was shivering and huddled in on herself made her look even smaller. She was half soaked to the bone, desperately in need of a bath and beat up as well, he could already see the dried blood that coated the right side of her head and long (h/c) hair as well as other numerous little cuts and scrapes that were littered across her face and bare hands. Cleaned up she would be quite the beautiful young woman all things considered. He was definitely right about her clothes though, they were some of the oddest garments he had ever seen on a woman. From the damp black coat that looked like it was more for appearance than practicality, to the provocative skintight trousers and fitted leather boots that both concealed her body and showed it off, it was a far cry from the usual long skirts, baggy pants and pressed blouses that most women wore, but still very flattering on her.

But it wasn’t until she lifted her head to meet his gaze that he truly became captivated.

It was her eyes, they were big and (e/c) and they were staring at him as if he was an oasis in a vast desert, as if he was her god given solace and it left a strange feeling chorusing through him. The best way he could describe it is by remembering a time from his childhood, when he was still very little and his aversion to all things filthy had not quite set in as strongly yet, when he had fallen out of a tree he had climbed. He remembers how it had seemed as if time slowed down around him as he plummeted down towards the ground, how he felt weightless and it left a tickling sensation in his stomach right before he impacted with the ground. It was a rush and his desire to find out who this woman was was even more consuming now than it was a few seconds ago.

“Are you alright Miss?” He asked smoothly, trying his best to sound as cordial as possible so as not to spook her. “You appear to be injured.”

Finally, after what seemed like forever, a vehicle had stopped for you and a seemingly handsome young man stepped out to ask if you needed assistance. Your head was pounding and your vision was so blurry though that all you could tell about him was that he had short dark hair and was dressed in a stylish dark suit with a slight vintage look to it and a black dust mask that covered his face from the nose down.

“I-I had an accident…” Your voice sounded hoarse and weak when you spoke and it took everything you had to stay standing upright as you wobbled on your feet. “Fell in the river while… while on a walk.”

Well that explained why you looked half drowned, Kai thought, his concern rising when he saw the way you were swaying from side to side. Just as he was about to speak again, you beat him to it, but what you said left him confused since he had no clue as to what you were speaking of.

“Pardon me Miss, but what did you say?” He calmly inquired.

You shook your head, trying to clear away the cloudy haze and black spots from your vision as you fought to get the words out through your dry mouth. “My-My cell phone is acting weird, can’t-can’t get a signal… could I borrow yours?”

Cell phone? What was that?

Kai knew what a telephone was, they were still relatively new though and very expensive. But he had never heard of a cell phone before, and what was that you had said about a signal? This was becoming more and more intriguing by the second. Were you speaking of something real or were you merely hallucinating and babbling nonsense?

“I am afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about Miss. I’ve never heard of a cell phone before, but if you have someone you’d like to get in contact with, you’re more than welcome to use the telephone I have back at my home.” He gestured towards the still running car, fully expecting a heartfelt thank you and for you to get in without further questions, what he got instead was not at all what he had been expecting.

His head shot up when he heard you scoff and a rough, humorless chuckle fall from your pretty mouth. “That-That’s just great…” You mumbled sarcastically, just loud enough for him to hear. “First car to stop and help and it’s some jackass wanting to play fucking mind games with me.” You looked him in the eye, you gaze hard and unflinching. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll take my chances with walking. The last thing I need right now is help from some asshole who just wants to fuck with my head.” You spat bitterly and began to make your way past him to continue on down the road, but stopped when your movement brought on a sudden dizzy spell and before you knew it, you were slumping to the ground as dead weight, your vision going completely black as you quickly lost conscience. Your anger and frustration had cleared your head for only a moment, but just as quickly as the clarity had come, it was gone again, and it took your waking mind right along with it.

If he was a more sensitive man, Kai may have been appalled and shocked at the way you had just spoken to him. Most women who met him saw his wealth in the way he dressed and carried himself and most threw themselves at him in an effort to gain his attention, some succeeded, some were cast aside, but what they all had in common was a more conniving way of going about it. They were flirty, trying to sway his opinion of them by stroking his ego with pretty words and coy smiles, and it had become boring. When he was younger, he had taken women to bed only to avoid being looked down on by his peers and other members of the organization, and while he had made sure the ones he chose had greatly enjoyed themselves, he himself had never gotten much more than a weak release out of those moments.

But you didn’t appear to notice or care about his appearance or the visible signs of his wealth. Instead, you simply ignored him as if he was just some random nobody you had met on the street, even going so far as to speak to him in a disrespectful tone and use crass, unladylike language on top of it. He knew he should be feeling slighted and angered by your lack of respect, but instead, all he felt was elated and proud. You were already a pretty little mystery that he wanted to solve, but now you were proving yourself to be a challenge for him to conquer and break.

But before he could do that, he needed to find a way to get you back to the compound and under his care and supervision. You were obviously hurt, disoriented, and lost, so his fist order of business was seeing to it that you got proper care and were back on your feet first and foremost, that would give him time to plan out how best to go about this new pet project of his.

Luckily you passed out before making it too far and he quickly ordered Hari to get you into the backseat of the Packard, to which his lieutenant did without question. A spare blanket from the trunk was draped over your small frame and as he took his place in the passenger seat up front, he reached back and placed his still gloved hand against your forehead and even through the material he could feel that you were burning up with a nasty fever. Once back at home, he would need to have Dr. Takani take a look at you after the maids gave you a bath and changed your clothes. It wouldn’t be right to let his new little curiosity become too ill after all. 

He had found you and now you were his responsibility to care for. He was a man that took pride and care in all his possessions, and already you were becoming his new favorite. He didn’t know a thing about you, not even your name, but that was part of it, finding out everything he could about you was going to be half the fun of it.

“Where would you like to go Kai?” He heard Hari ask, but he never took his eyes off of you beautiful face as he replied.

“We’re going home.”

Sorry if this seemed a bit rushed, I was too excited to post it and didn't do a whole lot of editing besides a quick once over. lol

[i-have-feelings-bitch]

el desorden que dejas - the ending iago and roi deserved

so my beloved @roifernandez made me watch the show like a week ago and since we have literally no clue on how iago and roi are handling the aftermath, we sat together, aljoscha basically threw sentences at me and i created our own little happy ending for them. hope you like it! ♡

1.2k words // Iago x Roi // hurt&comfort // angst with happy ending

Raquel’s eyes are soft and understanding. Her voice is still husky, when she simply says, „It’s okay, Iago. None of this was your fault“.

Iago struggles to hold her gaze and eventually looks away. He knows he can’t fight back his tears any longer, so he turns to go back to his room without another word.

Shakily, he places one foot in front of the other. With every step though, Iago feels the darkness clawing at the back of his head, demanding entrance to his conscience, seeking awareness, trying to push him over the edge. He fails to keep his thoughts from starting to spin. His face twists in pain when everything that happened emerges in his mind once again, every horrible little detail visualizing in front of his inner eye. Iago’s legs can’t carry him any longer, so he just sinks down onto one of the terribly clean chairs in the hospital hallway. He doesn’t care if anyone sees him like that, he doesn’t care that he looks like he just crawled out of a dumpster; he certainly feels like he did.

A sob shakes his whole body, tears are now running down his cheeks in an endless stream, his heart feels like it’s going to collapse right in his chest. Desperate for any kind of support or stability, Iago clenches his hands into fists, his fingers entangling and his knuckles turning white from the force. Buckling over, Iago rests his forehead on his hands, a storm of self-hatred, guilt and black despair raging inside of him.

He cannot remember the last time he cried. It feels horrible, he feels horrible.

A desire creeps up in his chest, a desire he hasn’t felt in a long time. The desire to fill the void of loneliness. That very loneliness that has been a part of him for as long as he can remember; that very loneliness that has made its home inside of him and never wanted to leave.

He doesn’t want to be alone anymore. He’s sick of it.

Before Iago can lose the sudden will to look for company, he gets up and, without really thinking about the direction he’s heading in, strides down the hospital hallways, his legs and feet taking over while the tears are still blurring his eyesight.

 Two soft knocks draw Roi’s attention to the door. He didn’t expect to have any more visitors today. Roi doesn’t have time to answer though, as the door is opened not a second later. The view he’s given has his heartbeat staggering. It’s Iago. His Iago. With tears all over his face, a deeply pained expression on his pretty features, and his eyes so full of sadness that it has a stinging ache jolting through Roi’s chest.

Iago doesn’t quite meet Roi’s gaze, be it because of the tears or whatever other reason, Roi doesn’t care. All he wants is to hold Iago, hold his pieces together.

Silently, Iago closes the door behind him. His usually square shoulders are slumped down as if to hide himself, the rest of his body looking oddly small and lost in the hospital gown. Without a word, Iago takes a step towards Roi’s bed, but falters slightly in the motion. Raising his eyes to lay them upon Roi, he inaudibly asks for comfort, for help.

Roi feels like a cold hand is reaching for his heart, crushing it in its powerful fist, rendering him motionless. He’s never seen Iago like that before. Not when he dragged him out of that bathroom with Viruca, not even when Viruca died.

Forcing himself to break free from his momentary, circumstantial rigidity, Roi is quick to shuffle over to one side of the bed, although it is already fairly small. Offering Iago a hideout, he lifts his blanket.

It takes a weight off his mind when Iago actually moves, albeit slowly and carefully, to lie down next to Roi. His body radiates coldness, so Roi cautiously shifts closer, drawing the blanket across Iago and himself.

He’s unsure how to act other than that. Iago is shaking next to him, so obviously desperate for care, for love. Hesitantly, Roi moves to lay an arm around his friend, but is interrupted by Iago, who suddenly moves.

An ugly sob is breaking its way out of Iago’s throat and he turns to press his face into Roi’s hospital robe, hiding. His fingers cling to the fabric, clawing into it, and his whole body is jolted by his heavy crying.

Roi clenches his jaw, it utterly breaks him to see Iago like that. He feels tears welling up in him as well. Finally, he carefully pushes his arms to either of Iago’s sides, catching him in a soft, comforting embrace. Roi wants to help him better – he wants to say something, anything that would make the pain go away, at the least soften it. But he can’t think of any words that would change the situation, because it’s the truth. It’s the horrible truth, that they now have to live with. That Iago now has to live with. All Roi can do right now is hold his friend in his arms, and he does.

They lie like this for an eternity. Roi doesn’t know how much time has passed, for how long they have kept this hug, motionless, soundless, save for Iago’s sobs. But Roi couldn’t care less about time. Looking down upon the mess that was Iago, Roi can’t stop himself from lowering his head and gingerly pressing a light kiss on his head.

For a second, it has Iago pulling onto Roi’s hospital gown even tighter, searching for comfort, but eventually, Iago withdraws a little – only to look up at Roi, his eyes watery and brows tightly drawn together. His voice is hoarse and it breaks a little when he quietly whispers, “Thank you, Roi.”

Roi doesn’t know what to respond. He just gazes at his friend, finding himself – once again – lost in his facial features. Even now, Iago is the most beautiful person to Roi.

Without really realizing what he’s doing, he lowers his head, his face approaching Iago’s like in slow motion, until he can feel Iago’s warm breath stroking his own cheekbone. He pauses for a second, silently asking for consent and giving Iago some time.

Roi feels the slightest pull on his hospital robe and it’s the last breeze to push him over the edge, his lips meeting Iago’s in a feather-like touch. A ball of warmth and contentment erupts in Roi’s chest, his eyes fluttering shut. It never felt like that when they kissed before, he knows this time it would be different. Everything would be different, better.

 ~

Barcelona was loud and busy, but also calm and soothing when he needed it to. Sometimes he would just sit by the window, look down upon the street and pick out a random person to follow them with his eyes until they vanished from his view. It was a rocky road they had to go, and still have to go. But Roi was right there by his side, all the way through judicial hearing, through the imprisonment of his father, through therapy.

He heard indistinct clattering from the kitchen and a soft smile spread across his lips. Life was different now, it was better. Roi taught him how to feel real love, and taught him what it meant to be loved. How it felt to be loved. And it felt amazing.

[motleymoose]

Homecoming, Pt 2: Bosph, Ch1

Chapter 1

Confusing Practices Breed Confusing Outcomes

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorian, Gender Neutral Reader Words: 2.1k+ Warnings: More adjacent angst!!!

Summary:

I have no idea why the bounty hunter is being nice to me. Or rather nice-ish. I mean, I haven't been frozen in carbonite yet, so that's promising???

Homecoming Masterlist

By the time we landed on the outermost planet in the habitable zone, I was back to feeling like a normal being. I was clean, fed and shockingly uncuffed. The last had happened soon after the Mandalorian had left me in the hold. The cuffs had buzzed and loosened enough for me to slip out of them, and I was almost positive he’d done it on purpose. Just like giving me food, freeing my hands seemed strange and un-bounty-hunter-like, but I didn’t want to question it too much lest it all got ripped out from under me.

The flight hadn’t been that long, two days at the most in hyperspace. Luckily, my space sickness ebbed halfway through the trip. I hadn’t seen the bounty hunter since getting rudely awakened in the hold’s crawl space, but I didn’t mind it. I’d leave him alone if he’d leave me alone. And as far as ships went, the Razor Crest wasn’t too shabby.

But I was itching to get out of the hold and onto solid ground. Even if that meant seeing Mihcas.

Stretching in the cramped bunk I’d claimed as my own, I touch the walls on all sides, trying to soak in what little peace I could before my ultimate demise. Two days in the cargo hold had lightened my mood, even if it was only because I was off that backwater moon and in the skies again. The atmosphere down below was warmer than the upper deck, almost uncomfortably so. But as I had gotten used to the bantha moon’s heat, it didn’t bother me too much.

A sharp knock sounded outside my little haven before the curtain was ripped back. The Mandalorian, fully geared, glowered down at me. He flung a pair of cuffs at my midsection, and reflexively I curled up to protect myself. I wasn’t fast enough; the cuffs landed heavily on my stomach.

“Good morning to you too,” I muttered, flopping back onto the pillow and covering my face with my arms.

The whirring hum of the charging blaster warned me that he wasn’t in a good mood. But really, when wasn’t this Mando in a not good mood? Sighing heavily, I sat up slowly to pick up the cuffs. “This isn’t really necessary, y’know. There’s nowhere for me to run out there that isn’t under Mihcas’s thumb.”

The Mandalorian trained the barrel of his gun at my chest.

“Fine,” I whined in a pretty good impression of a bratty youngling. I locked my left wrist in first, then, with some frustration, my right, and held my hands out for inspection. The Mandalorian leaned into the bunk, rough leather gloves double checking my work, snugging the cuffs a little tighter with a practiced squeeze. He motioned for me to get out of the bunk, taking several careful steps back with his blaster still pointing at me. In the least graceful way possible, I wriggled my way out of the bunk. I’d dragged half the bedding with me, and I cursed angrily as I tried, unsuccessfully, to kick the tangle of blankets from my legs.

In one swift movement, the bounty hunter yanked on one of the sheets, instantly untangling me from the mess but knocking me off my feet and onto the floor. Dazed, I stared at the wires and ducts nestled cozily above me and wished that I was anywhere but on this fragging ship. A smart boot to the hip brought me back. Rolling onto my side, I pushed unsteadily to my feet and waited, frazzled, for the Mandalorian to reveal his plans. I frowned at him. He stared blankly back. We stood there, facing each other like that for what seemed like an eternity. My life was getting ready to come to an abrupt end, and the pressure and stress of it was almost too much to bear. I’d have preferred if he had said something scathing, something I could latch onto and be mad about, but all he gave me was silence.

I couldn’t take it anymore, not when I was about to die at the hands of my dosh-faced ex-boss.

“Well,” I said with about as much swagger as a nerfherder. “Let’s go get me killed.” I stepped boldly forward, purposefully not looking at the hunter, and headed for the hatch. A strong, solid arm hit me in the chest midstep, making me suck in my breath; my chest was still tender from our first encounter a few days ago. Salvaging what little balance and self-respect I had, I took a step backwards and snorted. “What?”

The helmet angled toward me, arm dropping to his side. “This… Mihcas. What is he to you?”

A harsh laugh bubbled up my throat. “The guy you’re turning me over to? He’s nothing, and everything,” I fumed. “Mihcas is the reason I’m in this mess. He owns me.” Swallowing back the bile and rage, I faced forward and lifted my chin. “I can’t take back all of the horrible choices I made, but I don’t have to accept what he believes is righteous, no matter what that does to me.” Striding past the silent Mandalorian, I approached the hatch controls. Fumbling with my bound wrists, I whacked the panel harder than I should’ve, bruising the side of my hands. The hydraulics hissed as the motors released the locks and lowered the ramp.

“Let’s go get this fragging show over with.”

The Crest’s hatch opened onto a rocky outcrop well back from the main road into the mining district. The sky was an unhealthy shade of orange, the air tinged with a metallic flavor that clung to the back of my tongue and stung my eyes. Bootsteps followed slowly behind as I marched down the slope of the ramp and onto the barren earth. Rubbing at my eyes did nothing except irritate them more, my tear ducts working overtime to wash out the pollution.

The bounty hunter paused in front of me. “Here,” he grunted, thrusting a portable respirator and goggles into my bound hands.

I blinked skeptically at him. He huffed and turned away, impatiently scanning the bleak landscape while I hastily kitted up. Once the mask and goggles were in place, and I was breathing easier, the Mandalorian took off at a stiff clip, heading towards a squarish blob on the horizon. Since there was nothing else I could do, I tagged along, easily pacing him but keeping a stride or so behind; I wasn’t the one wearing beskar, and I didn’t exactly feel like being pumped full of holes by the mercs patrolling Mihcas’s compound.

The compound was a full-day’s march from the Razor Crest over rough, unforgiving terrain. The hunter didn’t pause for breaks, and I didn’t ask, suffering screaming back and legs in silence. I’d be dosh if I turned whimpering coward now that I was facing Death, and I wouldn’t give the Mandalorian, or Mihcas for that matter, the satisfaction in seeing me break.

Dusk had fallen by the time we reached a shallow gully only a few miles from the perimeter fence. Trash and rubble were scattered across the ground, piled here and there in towering, teetering heaps. The bounty hunter had said little on our trek across the desolate land, only begrudgingly noting hazards in his monosyllabic way. With my throat parched and my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth due to the arid air filtering through the respimask, I wasn’t in much of a mood to talk either.

We passed countless piles of junk and rock, weaving our way through the haphazardly tossed garbage until we came upon a spot that was relatively sheltered compared to the rest. A larger hill of rubble had collapsed, drifting aimlessly into surrounding heaps. Some of the rocks had shifted along with it, creating a sort of cave that appeared dry and uninhabited. He waved me in, following close behind. Once inside, I allowed my knees to buckle, collapsing with a grateful groan onto the uncomfortable dirt.

A cracked boulder rumbled through the opening, the Mandalorian behind it. Positioning the rock at the entrance, he swung his rifle over his shoulders and laid it over his knees as he sat down on the makeshift seat. I eyed him for a moment, only a little worried about the shock-prongs at the end of the gun. Seeing as he wasn’t getting ready to electrocute me, I straightened out my back and rolled my shoulders and neck to work out the kinks. I sigh forcefully through the respimask and scrub my hair with my bound hands. It stuck out in odd spikes all over my head, and I looked absolutely devilish covered in the soot and grime of the polluted planet.

The Mandalorian shifted noisily, and I chanced another peek at him. He wasn't a particularly loud being, which was surprising for the amount of kit he packed, and the sound of him moving proved disconcerting.

“Something wrong?” I murmured, half accusation and half curiosity. My time around others of his creed had been brief, but even so I’d never encountered anyone remotely like him. His careful movements were always so calculated and quiet, and anything contradicting that was intriguing.

A crackly hiss blew over the vocoder, and he wearily dropped the point of his helmet to his chest. “The information you gave me was… accurate,” he admitted brusquely.

Eyebrows shooting upwards, I rolled painfully to my side and pillowed my head on my cuffed wrists. “Go on,” I rasped.

Noiselessly, he unclipped the canteen from his belt and handed it to me. Greedily, I tore off my respimask, unscrewed the cap and took a big swig. The water was tepid and stale, but I didn’t care; it was wet and I was thirsty. The liquid dribbled down my chin as I took another mouthful. Blissfully refreshed, I capped the canteen and gave it back, pulling the respimask back into place. “So. You believe me,” I croaked unquestioningly.

This time the sigh was unmistakable. He lifted his head and angled it away. “No,” he replied simply.

“I see.”

“Do you?” A hint of curiosity in his tone. Interesting.

“You don’t trust me, I get it. I don’t trust me; just look where we are.” Rolling my eyes vaguely at the trash surrounding us, I decidedly pushed off my arms into a sitting position so I could look at him easier. “I don’t know what info you got on me, and I sure as dosh don’t know what you found on Mihcas. But I can tell you this: he is not a man of his word, and he will kill me, and possibly try to kill you as well.” My hands trembled between my knees, and I curled my fingers into fists to stop it. Inhaling deeply, I looked down at my lap. “I know my job wasn’t strictly legal, but I tried my best to make it better, even if my best wasn’t the right thing to do at the time,” I mumbled, the guilt clawing its way up my throat. The shadowy ghosts began to scream and moan inside my mind, and I shook my head violently to stop the onslaught. Now was not the time to relive the past.

The long, biting pause that followed did nothing to chase the ghosts away. As I sulked amongst the rubble, fighting back the tears and the bile brought on by the guilt, the Mandalorian gazed stoically out onto the gully, gloved fingers tapping a jittery tattoo on the stock of his rifle. It was well into the night before he said anything.

“Do you know how to use a blaster.”

Raising my weary head sullenly, I squinted at his shadowy form in the opening. “I don’t like guns,” I replied to the nonquestion.

Exhaling in mild frustration, he repositioned himself to face me. “Come here,” he said, beckoning me to the entryway. Pale moonlight washed out the landscape, leaving it a land of gray shadows. I blinked a few times, letting my goggled eyes adjust to the dimness, then crouched beside him, elbows resting on my knees. Taking out his blaster pistol, he pointed at various sections, giving me a short lesson. “This is the chamber where the blast cartridges go. Once it’s primed, it’s ready to fire. Don’t point it at anyone unless you are willing to shoot, don’t pull the trigger unless you’re willing to kill.” He returned it to its holster and held out a gloved hand, palm up. “Give me your hands.”

Confused, I held out my hands. He punched a sequence into his vembrace controls and pulled on the cuffs. They loosened, slipping over my knuckles. “What are you doing?” I asked, bewildered by his actions.

Handing the cuffs to me, the bounty hunter jerked his head to the back wall. “Get some sleep.”

I nodded my head silently, taking the cuffs back to my spot. Setting them between me and the wall, I curled into a ball with my back facing the Mandalorian and fell into an uneasy sleep.

[bybdolan]

oh i'd love to hear your thoughts on call me by your name!

Buckle up, this is going to be quite a ride.

Starting with the good stuff: Call Me By Your Name is easily one of the most immersive movies I have ever seen. I felt the cold water, I smelled the sunscreen, I basked in the Italian sun. It’s beautifully made and I applaud the craftsmanship and work that went into this film. Despite all the negative stuff I will talk about later, I highly recommend watching the movie, simply because it feels like a holiday, an escape from day-to-day life. I also really liked the representation of teenage sexuality – Elio is inexperienced, he is incredibly horny, and there are scenes that can feel a bit awkward to watch, but overall, it does capture what it is like to be a love-hungry teenager. There is a post somewhere (that I am unable to find right now) that talks about how CMBYN essentially is Elio’s Bildungsroman – a fancy way of saying it is a Coming-Of-Age story in which the protagonist discovers truths about themselves and the world around them. Which is something Elio undoubtedly does in the movie. CMBYN takes its’ time to show us around Elio’s world and his mind and we grow with him. Timothee Chalamet does an incredible job at making us feel with and for this lanky, hungry teenage boy. (If you liked the Coming-Of-Age aspect about CMBYN, you might like the French-Canadian movie Genèse – but be warned: It is less optimistic than CMBYN and there is a graphic r*pe scene.)

With all that being said: I ultimately walked away from CMBYN with a bad feeling. I have thought a lot about why I feel the way I feel about the story, given that the movie features a love story between two men and as much as we like to think we are woke and free from bigotry, it is important to acknowledge how being raised in a homophobic world can impact us. But after all the contemplation I came to the conclusion that I wouldn’t feel differently about the romance had Elio been a girl. Now, if you aren’t familiar with the movie, you might not know what all the fuss is about, so I’m going to quickly update you: Elio is 17 when the movie takes place and Oliver, his love interest, is 24. The age gap certainly is there, as is a huge visual difference between Timothee Chalamet (Elio) and Armie Hammer (Oliver). Age gaps are a sensitive topic and the age gap in this particular movie has been discussed many times (take a look at the comment section of this video – that I recommend anyway because it summarizes my opinion on the movie quite nicely), and I think the way you view the relationship kind of depends on your personal views and experiences (something being legal doesn’t mean it is right), but let me tell you: I had some issues with it. Or, to be exact, I had issues with Oliver. This post is already way too long, so I will not go into too much depth on why Oliver upsets me and I frankly believe he should get a restraining order. There are a lot of instances where he does things that would have made me uncomfortable had I been in Elio’s position (disclaimer: I do not like when people give me physical attention when I don’t ask for it, so that plays a part in how I view the movie). He gives him a back massage when Elio does not really want it, he makes fun of Elio f*cking a peach even when Elio is crying and begging him to not tease him with it – stuff like that. I understand that Oliver is a closeted gay man who likely has almost no other chance to live out his sexuality, but he is 24 and he should know better than to pursue a 17-year-old (who acts very much like a 17-year-old – Elio isn’t very mature for his age). No matter who you think pursued who first – Oliver is the one who has the physical and mental power in the relationship and he. Should. Know. Better. I know there are a lot of people who disagree with me on this, but I think the romance between Elio and Oliver feels a bit predatory. Elio definitely wants it and it is implied that he doesn’t suffer emotional damage from it, but it remains a weird power dynamic.

From what I have seen, the author of the novel as well as the people involved in the film lack a bit of awareness for how the movie can come across – which adds to the romanticization of the love story – people (especially straight teen girls) all over social media praise the movie for depicting such a “raw, beautiful love story” and I personally feel like it shifts the focus of the movie away from Elio and his rocky road to self-discovery and puts too much attention on a (rather flawed) romance that, to me, is more of a device for Elio to find himself that the actual center of the plot. Another issue is that the movie reinforces the stereotype that gay men are predatory, whether it was intentional or not. As great as it is that LGBTQ+ stories get more mainstream attention, CMBYN is a rather problematic example of that.

I am sorry this turned out so long, but I have a complicated relationship with this movie and I wanted to word my thoughts correctly. Thank you for being interested in hearing my opinion :)

[savvyqueen18]

SilveeLocke | Let's Go Eevee ZombieLocke | Pt.4

♡♡♡

Part 4: Between a Brock and a Hard Place

♡♡♡

>Next Part

>Previous Part

>Part 1

>Meet Silviana

>Meet Xander

"Okay," Silviana held Trahp's pokéball in her hand, Junipur was standing on her shoulder. Both of them looked at the Gym, "I guess we should head in then." Releasing her Bellsprout, all three of them walked into the Gym.

The gym smelled musty, like the inside of a cave. Along the sides she could see rows of chairs high up above, there were a few occupied seats with people who came to watch. The whole center of the Gym was decorated and made to look like cavernous walls.

"I'm guessing you are here for the Gym Challenge?" Silviana turned, walking up to her was a spiky, brown haired man with slits for eyes. He put one hand on his hip, "I'm Brock the Gym Leader here in Pewter," he shook her hand with his free one, "are you ready for your battle?"

"So soon, umm, I..." Her eyes darted around, she felt something fuzzy touch her cheek, Junipur was staring at her, when the Eevee flicked her ear again, it brushed Silviana's cheek gently. She turned to Brock with a determined look, "Yes, I'm ready."

"Fantastic!" He pulled out a pokéball and tossed it into the middle arena. From the pokéball, a geodude popped out and smashed its fists into the floor, it let out a fierce growl and raised its fists in the air.

Silviana took another deep breath and marched into the main arena after Brock. When she stepped into the battle circle, the crowd near the top broke into claps and hollers. She tried not to let that distract her, she looked down at Trahp and smiled, "Go get'em!"

The Bellsprout let out a little toot of excitement and bounced into the circle, the Geodude floated around Trahp. Trahp let out a spray of seeds, but the Geodude easily dodged them.

"Trahp you have to pin it down!" Silviana yelled.

Trahp kept its eye on the Geodude but nodded in understanding. With one of her vine-y arms, she threw out more vines and wrapped the Geodude in a tight knot. Swinging around, Trahp threw the Geodude into the floor, the rocky pokémon collapsed unconscious in a cloud of dust.

With a gasp, Silviana yelled, "Oh yea! Good job Trahp!" She jumped excitedly.

Brock laughed, "I'm glad to see you so excited, but the battle's not done yet."

Silviana looked questioningly at the man, she jolted when the entire arena started to shake. Looking closely at the back wall, where Brock was standing, small rocks dropped. Dust and moss fell off of the feature and when she looked close enough, she could see a massive thing come out of the rocks. With a loud screech, an Onix rolled out onto the battle field, the massive rocks shifted and rolled on its body. The other pokémon looked massive compared to Trahp.

Oh my god! How am I going to beat that!?

She looked anxiously at the Onix. Brock gave a chuckle, "It's alright, Onix here may look big and intimidating, but this is only your first gym. I wouldn't put you against anything too strong." He smiled.

Only slightly unnerved at his comment, she shook her head and clenched her jaw. She shouted to Trahp, "It's okay! You can beat it I believe in you! Use vine whip!"

On her command, the little pokémon threw it's arms forward releasing two vines that wound around the Onix's large body. The Onix threw its tail up and pinned the vines to floor, it snaked its way closer and wrapped it's massive body around Trahp. The little Bellsprout looked frantically around as it was being encircled by the massive rock monster.

"No! Trahp! Uh, umm," Silviana shook her head frantically, "I gotta think, gotta think!" She could only watch as the Onix further tightened it's body around the Bellsprout. When it couldn't coil it's body any further there was a bright light that eminated from it. Streaks of light came from the Onix, and many large vines came up from the ground and wrapped around the rocky pokémon. The entangled pokémon reared its head, but struggled against the strong vines. The large beast was now pinned to the ground unable to move.

A pokémon came forward from the center. Its yellow body floated through the air and came to sit in front of Silviana. It smiled gently at the young girl.

"Trahp! You evolved!" She dropped to her knees and hugged the Weepinbell. She heard clapping.

"That was a fantastic battle! It's always pleasant to see a trainer's pokémon evolve in battle." Brock came to stand in front of her, Silviana stood with a smile on her face, "Congratulations! I proudly present to you the Boulder Badge." He hands her a small pin.

Silviana gratefully accepts it, she pulls her backpack around and pins it to the side of her bag, "Thank you so much! There's so many more I can collect." Brock smiled at her as she thought about the strange green-haired boy and his jacket full of pins.

◇◇◇

Walking out of the Gym she couldn't help but jump for joy, she put her hand down to pat her newly evolved Weepinbell and chortling could be heard. She looked up to see a boy, about her age, in a dark blue button-up and dark slacks. He had really spiked up hair, far spikier than Xander's, and a necklace with a sharp tooth. Silviana looked at him curiously.

"That was a really interesting battle," he smiled slyly at her, "You obviously have a knack for pokémon, not every trainer can get their pokémon to evolve mid battle. You might even be able to rival my skill in battle," he sauntered forward, "the name is Lake," he said with a flick of his hair, he grabbed silviana's hand, "and you are?" He pulled his lips closer to the hand he picked up.

Silviana quickly pulled her hand away, "I- uh, I'm Silviana." She could hear a growl rising in Junipur's throat.

He blinked a couple of times at her sudden pull away, "Well, well, well," he took one step closer.

Silviana took a step back.

"What a wonderful name. Here," he picked up her hand once again and placed two Ultra Balls into her hand, "think of these as a gift for your first big victory." He winked at her. He turned and sauntered off, with a wave of his hand he said, "I look forward to seeing you in the future."

After he had turned the corner Silviana muttered, "Oh my god what s stuck up little..." she crossed her arms frustrated. She looked at Junipur who had her eyebrows crunched together, "I can see we can agree on one thing," She chuckled.

In preparation for the next route, they walked off to the pokémart once more. She discovered that the pokémart now offered a larger array of items for her. When she asked about the pokéballs that Lake had given to her, the clerk asked for the number of badges she had.

When she showed him her recently acquired Boulder Badge, the clerk gave her a soft smile, "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough badges for equipment this strong, congratulations though." He finished giving her her change.

She walked out of the pokémart grumpy. Huh, not strong enough. I'm going to show him. I'll collect as many badges as that mysterious guy had.

"Let's get to the next city, I'm sure Xander already beat me to the next gym."

They walked along the path that led them to Mt. Moon. Silviana battled every person she could see and Junipur didn't seem to mind the battling either. She was even beginning to enjoy the battle encounters. Silviana though she could see a smile form on Junipur's sharp teeth.

The two walked confidently, having won many battles, their spirits were filled. Silviana pulled out the region map she got from the pokémart, "Okay if we keep heading down this path we'll get to Mount Moon." She smiled as she talked to Junipur.

"Hey trainer!"

Silviana looked up from her map. There was a dark haired man in a trench coat staring at her.

"You wouldn't happen to be Silviana would you?" The man asked.

"Uhh, yea. How did you–"

"Your friend Xander said you would be coming by here sometime, I'm what's known as a Coach Trainer, I'm going to be testing your pokémon's power." He pulled out a pokéball and released the Meowth that was inside. The thin pokémon narrowed its eyes at Silviana.

"Okay then!" Junipur leapt from her shoulder, "I have to warn you we've been on a winning streak."

"Eevee!" Junipur agreed with a puff of her chest. She rushed forward aiming a tackle at the Meowth. The Meowth stood on its two hind legs and was able to push back against Junipur's attack. As the Meowth jumped out of the way it clawed at Junipur's exposed ears. Junipur cried out.

Silviana covered her mouth with her hands.

"I do have to warn you as well, I'm testing not only your battle poise with your pokémon, but how well you handle real life situations." The man narrowed his eyes at Silviana, "Like a life or death situation with your parter."

Silviana looked at Junipur, the Meowth was jumping circles around her. Junipur couldn't keep her eyes on the pokémon long enough to aim an attack at it. Frustrated, she just ran after it. The Meowth easily dodged all of Junipur's weak attacks and even managed to hit Junipur in the side of the head knocking off her hat.

"Junipur..."

The little Eevee fixed a glare at the Meowth. The other cat pokémon seemed to laugh. Junipur, long ears pinned back, growled furiously. Letting out a loud caterwaul Junipur released a mass of stars in a spray at the Meowth. The Meowth, its eyes growing wide, was pushed back as the stars pelted it, it seemed like a never ending galaxy was hitting the pokémon. Junipur stopped, it was breathing heavily as it watched the other pokémon collapse. With a final tiny howl of triumph, her legs buckled under her.

"Juipur!" Silviana rushed forward.

"She should be fine, she collapsed most likely out of exhaustion." The Coach Trainer walked over to Silviana. It looked at Junipur, "Yea, she's just tired. There's a pokécenter right up the road here, so there shouldn't be too much of a problem getting her healed up."

"You know that's really cruel, what kind of a trainer are you!?" Silviana clutched Junipur in her arms, the pokémon was indeed breathing steadily now.

"Listen kid, you're going to find yourself trapped out there in the world where the only resource you have on you is your pokémon," He took a few steps back, "you have to be prepared for anything." He crossed his arms.

Silviana didn't care to listen to any more of his nonsense. She took off in the direction of the pokécenter as fast as she could.

[whirlybirbs]

i’m begging u .. can u write a rlly fluffy blurb about bee’s human getting injured and worried!bee is all over her

UNLAWFUL ARREST ;

summary: charlie, memo and you accidentally intercept a distress call.enter barricade & frenzy. it’s fight night at the junkyard. frenzy has rabies.pairing: bumblebee x human!readerrating: t for canon-typical-violence & some swearing!a/n: this was very fun to write bc i love ‘cade and i love ‘bee and i love one bad-ass reader with one (1) good wrench. set in the 2018 bumblebee movieverse!

Shit.

Charlie had woken you up out of a dead sleep, rattling your window frame with rocks much larger than pebbles to indicate the urgency -- sure enough, her and Memo were saddled up on her bike. 

Leaning out the window, you hush them both.

“What?” you whisper-yell, “Shh, stop yelling, you idiots --”

“The junkyard!” Charlie finally gets out, eyes wild, “Something’s going on. Something bad. We need to help them.”

Sector 7? The Decepticons? 

The blood drains from your face. You don’t even respond, just begin to tear your room apart in a desperate attempt to throw on a sweater and jeans and tuck the long-distance Sonic Ranger radio into your back pocket  -- your Adidas beat down the stairs as you burst through the door, meeting Charlie and Memo half-way down the cul-de-sac. You’re running, hair wild and sleep forgotten. 

“How’d you know?” you ask, lungs burning as the three of you beat the tarmac in the direction of Old Maccadam’s Junkyard. Charlie’s electric bike has a lot on you, peddling like a bat out of hell, “Is ‘Bee okay?”

“We got a call on the radio -- sounded like a distress signal -- a lot of yelling --”

You move, tugging the walkie talkie from your jeans and clicking on the signal. There’s a lot of static, and then you press the receiver.

“’Musketeers to base, I repeat, Musketeers to base.”

Nothing. Just endless static.

“What the hell?”

“I know,” Charlie says, “Sideswipe always has the frequency on. No one’s responding.”

Suddenly, headlights flood over the three of you. 

“Charlie --”

“Shit.”

You turn, still peddling, spotting the paint-job of s Dodge Diplomat behind you. 

“Is that Prowl?” you ask, confusion flooding your voice as your eyes bounce to Charlie next to you. She blinks, turning to look. 

Memo, upon hearing the name of the Autobot Second-in-Command, brightens visibly and begins waving his arms wildly. “Prowl! Hey! It’s -- it’s us! Your friends! You know --”

Suddenly, the police cruiser surges forward and it’s lights paint the night sky red and purple.

The Decepticon insignia on the hood sneers in your face. 

“Not Prowl!” Memo screeches, “So not Prowl! Bad guy! That’s a bad guy!”

“Shit!”

You both turn fast, dipping off the road and into the rocky path towards the run-down scrap-yard turned Autobot base in attempt to shake the sudden predator who’s tailing you too close for comfort.

The sand and rocks and cacti don’t do much to dissuade Barricade, though. He’s trudged through worse to track down Autobot filth. In this center console, Frenzy vibrates -- his senseless chatter seems to grow as nimble metallic servos tune his own radio to Judas Priest.

“BREAKING THE LAW, BREAKING LAW!”

Barricade doesn’t mind this Earth music too much.

The three of you hit the Junkyard’s wall fast, breaking in opposite directions along the fence. You break hard, kicking up sand and peddling as fast as you can along the western side of the scrapyard.

“‘Bee! Optimus!” you screech, “For fuck’s sake, Sunny! Anyone!”

The growl of the engine behind you startles a scream from your throat.

You cut the handlebars fast, turning into the back-end of the scrap yard and hauling your bike over the fence as fast as you can. Slipping through the gaps in the chain-link, where it’s curled and rusted, you take off on foot and are fast to duck into the shadows of the scrapyard’s rusted and gutted cars. 

At first, Barricade rolls by.

You look around wildly, wondering where the hell they all were. 

They were twenty-foot tall alien robots. They weren’t hard to misplace. 

Suddenly, the large flood lights fixed high above the Junkyard crank on -- and Barricade spies you duck fast beneath a bottomed-out Buick. From your spot, you see Charlie and Memo climbing the cat-walk, desperate to get a sight on the Autobots normally here. 

The yard is silent. 

For a second.

And then, Barricade transforms.

You reach for the radio, shaky hands tuning the dial. You whisper desperately.

“Musketeers to Car Show, we’ve got a problem here! So, I dunno, return to base!”

He seethes, peeling away the fence and taking his time to stroll through the Junkyard. “So this is what they call home now.”

Charlie and Memo freeze, gripping one another tightly. 

Barricade seems to ignore the reaction, seems to ignore them both completely. He isn’t interested in fleshlings -- he’s interested in Optimus. And that fragging scout of his. 

“Where are they?” Barricade asks casually, “Where are the Autobots?”

Red optics sweep around, no doubt trying to get a read on the absent energon signals. Even still, the three of you are silent. 

A ped crushes the car next to you like a tin-can and you squeak. 

“Frenzy,” Barricade rumbles, “Handle the humans. Pick their bones.”

“Pick our bones --?!”

“Shit!”

The compartment in his chest bursts open, revealing the three-foot tall death mini-con hankering from a snack. 

You scream then, launching yourself over the Buick and throwing the walkie talkie as hard as you can. It nails Frenzy straight between the optics, giving you enough time to book it to the main storage space -- but, Frenzy is hot on your heels with sharp denta snapping at your knees. You trip, landing hard on the concrete as Frenzy’s servos dig into your ankles. You scream, landing a hard kick that sends the mini-bots servos offline for a second. 

You bound up the catwalk, just in time to see Bumblebee make his entrance. 

Sometimes you forget he’s a soldier -- he’s strong and fast and lands lightning punches that nearly cripple the Decepticon in a seconds time. His battle-mask is up and ready, blue optics narrowed in an angry determination. 

With Barricade on the ground, those blue optics connect with your gaze. He seems to go soft for a moment, waving slowly. You laugh -- dirt covered face cracking into a grin. 

You’re enthralled, completely and totally, but the current Decepticon threat ruins the moment. Barricade pulls the scout down by his door-wings just as Frenzy chatters out a sharp cackle and continues his hungry pursuit of you.

“Get off of me, you gear shift!” you holler, hands winding into the spaces in his plating as you toss the bot to the catwalk stairs. The whole thing rattles and Charlie, up above, shouts your name.

“Catch!”

A 12″ wrench.

Or, in this case, a blunt-force weapon. 

You swing down hard and fast, catching the minibot as it rolls away and shrieks. 

Suddenly, the junkyard is flooded with more Autobots -- Prowl is first through the gates, landing a hard hit on Barricade as Bee staggers back from a blow to the processor. Optimus is next, full of grace and power as he draws his gun and nails Barricade’s shoulder amidst the scuffle. 

Frenzy, now corned by the three of you, has set it’s sights back on your ankles -- he clings, scaling the skin there and landing a harsh bite on your thigh. 

“Son of a bitch!” 

“FRENZY! RETREAT!”

You unceremoniously throw the minicon off you, hammering home with the 12″ wrench. It’s barbaric and the move even has Ironhide wincing as the small Decepticon dashes from the premise and follows the taillights of the Dodge Diplomat into the night. 

You huff, hands dropping to your knees.

“Jesus.”

Charlie, behind you, has a hand wound in Memo’s shirt. They both look shaken, albeit safe. Silence settles in the junkyard. Along the comms, Ooptimus is barking out orders. You can tell by the way his optics move.

‘Bee is by your side in a second’s time, rolling onto his knees and eyeing you with a wide and worried look. He coos, offering a gentle prod. Blood is running down your leg, ruining your jeans and splattering on your Adidas. 

“Bad dog -- zzrt -- he’ll bite ya! Woof!”

And then you laugh.

And then Charlie does. And Memo, too. 

And Prowl looks at you three like you’ve shorted out. 

“I’m gunna need,” you say between breaths, “A tetanus shot. He bit me. That fuckin’ thing bit me. It bit me.”

‘Bee whirs again, sounding sick with worry.

Ratchet steps in then, gesturing the rest of the crew to get to work at cleaning up the mess the scuffle made. He kneels, servos gentle as he narrows his optics and blinks at the wound.

“Let me clean his up,” he says slowly, “You three are lucky we came when we did.”

“We tried calling,” you mutter, “But no one was home.”

“We were trying to locate Barricade. He’d broadcast-ed a distress signal when he landed. Though, it seems our Musketeers found him before we did.”

Ratchet transforms, opening the back doors of his alt. mode. You crawl in, accepting the ride to the main hangar. ‘Bee follows close behind, the rush in his systems starting to quiet and cool. Right now, you’re the main focus of his worries -- he’ll rip Frenzy to shreds later. 

“Pants off.”

Ratchet says it so curtly, Charlie and Memo take it as their cue to leave -- so they make their way to Optimus leaving you and ‘Bee and Ratchet in the main hangar. You grumble softly at the command, rolling your eyes slightly and tugging at your belt buckle.

“Could at least take me to dinner first.”

‘Bee chirps angrily from his spot behind Ratchet. 

“Bumblebee,” he sighs, “I need to clean the wounds. I have no intent on seducing your mate.”

Your eyes widen. You blink. ‘Bee has worked himself into a flurry at that, waving wildly and buzzing more like a wasp than anything.

“What did you just call me?!”

“Will you sit?”

You do as your told, wiggling your pants off and hissing softly at the sting. There’s a lot of blood -- the gashes are deep, too. Just seeing them makes your face run cold. Settling on the edge of the bench, Ratchet deploys his holoavatar.

Older, with white hair and a kind face. His hands are gentle. ‘Bee watches the whole way. 

You try to distract yourself. 

“See ‘Bee? Nothing more than a scratch. I’m fine.”

“These are deep wounds,” Ratchet counters. You whack the shoulder of his holoform. It fizzles out at the rough contact. He yelps. “I am just being honest!”

“Yeah, well,” you chirp, “Stop being a good doctor and tell me I’ll be fine.”

“You will be fine,” he mutters, “If I can ensure you don’t get any Cybertronian-prone bacterial infections.”

‘Bee nearly wallops Ratchet himself.

“Great,” you breath, “Nice. Here I am, no pants on in the middle of the base, bleeding, and that little Decepti-freak might have given me robo-rabies.”

‘Bee drives you home that night. By the time you make it in, the sun is starting to creep up along the horizon. You crawl out of the cab, moving to tug the garage door up. You’d borrowed a pair of shorts from Charlie -- she’d had some in the basket of her bike -- and Ratchet had done a nice job at patching you up.

The bandages are tight.

‘Bee rolls into the garage. You sigh, patting his hood. He transforms slowly.

“Long night, huh, buddy?”

An affirmative coo.

“You were a bad-ass out there, though. You handed Barricade his aft.”

“Not -- zzRt -- as cool as you!” ‘Bee’s gaze is heavy though. He whines a bit, nudging his face into your hands and nearly purring at the contact, “Glad -- srt -- you’re safe with me.”

You hum, enjoying the attention. A delicate servo has secured itself to your back, nudging you close to his chest. You can feel his spark vibrate under the plating there. Two hands splay across the glossy paint there. Bumblebee coos -- it’s happy and content, not full of worry like it had been earlier. 

For a while, you two settle in like that. You crawl into his lap, curled up around a big servo. His optics dim, going from a vibrant blue to a soft, pale glow. 

But, after a moment, you break the silence.

“‘Bee?”

His antennae twitch.

“Why did Ratchet call me your ‘mate’?”

Shit.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Welcome To The Jungle

EXO Park Chanyeol & Oh Sehun Characters: Park Chanyeol, Oh Sehun, Kim Minseok (Xiumin), Byun Baekhyun, Kim Jongdae (Chen) Summary: Chanyeol decides to go to the Amazon on his vacation week. Once there, be meets an exasperated safari tour guide called Sehun... amongst others... Word Count: 1k+ Warnings: BISH ITS CRACK TURN AWAY NOW IF YOU CANT & DONT

A/N: If you wanna know why, then you should know while my exams, I HAD MINSEOK DANCING TO TEMPO LIKE A BISH IN MY HEAD THE WHOLE TIME LET ME LIVE GDAM

This was such a long time coming UGHHHHHH

i cant believe

“Annyeong!” Chanyeol grinned brightly, bowing 90 degrees to the equally tall man wearing the khaki uniform he was expecting him to wear. Chanyeol was so giddy, he looked like an over-overgrown child; his hands were on either strap of his backpack, and was rolling back and forth on his feet. “I was so excited when I heard my tour guide was from Korea! How long have you been working here?”

The man with lopsided lips blinked, “Long enough to want out.”

Chanyeol burst into bright laughter, making the other pull his face in equally as much disgust as annoyance. The man on the job clenched his fist tightly and did everything in his power not to roll his eyes. He forced a smile and spoke with no conviction whatsoever, “Welcome, sir, to the most spectacular safari you will ever have the privilege to be on.”

Chanyeol broke into the largest grin at his words nonetheless.

“My name is tour guide Oh Sehun and I’ll be showing you the wonders of the amazon today.”

Chanyeol nearly squealed and Sehun finally backed away. “C’mon,” the tour guide said, proceeding to walk towards his ranger jeep, “the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”

Chanyeol wasted not a second and ran towards the vehicle, sitting in the front seat, buckling himself in before Sehun even gave instruction. Sehun rubbed his nape and breathed out hot air, “That brat. He was probably spoiled as a child. He has no manners at all.”

Once Sehun was eye’s view of what Chanyeol was doing, he couldn’t even tell his client off because he put the complicated seat belt on without any help. Sehun knit his brows deeply and stuffed himself to the driver’s seat beside him, securing himself in quickly. “Is this your first safari?”

“It’s my third, actually.”

Sehun couldn’t help but scoff out a chuckle, to which Chanyeol thought innocently as an impressed laugh, so he continued, “Yeah, the first time I went on one was on my birthday two years ago.”

Sehun was uninterested, and yet he found himself asking one last question, out of sheer formality. He started the car and grunt when it didn’t open. He turned to Chanyeol, “How old were you?”

“24.”

Sehun, who had been fussing with the engine, whipped his head to Chanyeol’s direction just as the jeep hummed, confirming its ignition. This bastard’s was my age two years ago,  Sehun thought gripping the steering wheel tightly. How sad. “Hold on tight, hyungnim. The road is bumpy.”

The jeep whooshed forward, heading deep into the thick jungle before them, stirring Chanyeol’s insides in excitement. The man with messy hair had his adrenaline pumping. He held a big grin. He couldn’t let Sehun’s statement go unnoticed however, “I’m older than you?”

Unfortunately for you, “Yes.” Sehun answered simply, shifting the stick.

“Waaaah, I have a cool dongsaeng. Cool.”

Sehun upper lip rose out of instictive disgust, which involuntarily prompted him to drive faster. Chanyeol took full advantage of this and raised his hands up in the air, cheering, as if he was on a roller coaster ride. Sehun growled at his actions, proceeding to shout at the man, “Babo-ya! Do you want to get your arms cut off?!”

“MWO? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Chanyeol shouted back, louder, not even bothering to put his arms down or stop his obnoxious howling. 

If he fucking wakes the tribe, I swear to--

At this point, they were met with a rocky road that was near a very shallow river. It made Sehun drive a little bit more cautiously, and Chanyeol finally keep his hands to himself and hold on to the handle bars.

The jeep came to a stop as they got to furthest the jeep could take them.

Sehun swiftly removed his seat belt in one motion and jumped out, turning to a struggling Chanyeol. He smirked at him and cleared his throat, “This way... hyung.” he placed his hand behind his back and started walking off,  “You have to move quickly if you want to see the animals.”

Once Chanyeol was free from his restrictions, he wasted no time and jumped out of the vehicle. He jogged up behind Sehun who was already walking off. He didn’t notice that Sehun had pulled out a longish knife with him, you know, the ones to chop off leaves and branches and stuff.

Chanyeol pulled out his camera and took pictures with a smile. Sehun finally turned back at him and sighed, “Right. You’re gonna wanna not do that when there are animals around. They have very acute senses of hearing and event he sound of a camera shutter can scare them away, some birds especially.”

The man behind the tour guide lowers his device and nodded slowly. “Oh, gwenchana. Real life experiences are better than pictures anyway.”

Sehun rolled his eyes.

The two continued walking and Chanyeol eventually strided next to Sehun.

“Watch your step, hyung. Some objects on the ground seem--” before Sehun could finish his sentence, Chanyeol stepped on quite a big rock and went wobbling forward, “--invisible.”

Lucky for Chanyeol, he was quick enough to suppost himself, and Sehun had enough heart in him to grab his arm and prevent him from falling. The later of the two did bother hiding the roll of his eyes, the former smiled and spoke a thank you.

“There,” Sehun pointed, “do you see? It’s a toucan.”

“Waaaah,” shutter proceeded by flapping of wings.

Sehun pursed his lips and threw Chanyeol a nasty look. Chanyeol showed his teeth, “Mianhe.”

Sehun released a breath, “Whatever... your loss anyway.”

The two moved not much forward and came across another bird. Unfortunately before Sehun could identify what it was exactly, Chanyeol scared it away by his giggling this time.

The trip continued on, exasperating at Sehun’s end, and excitingly frustrating on Chanyeol’s end, because he kept unintentionally scaring a bunch of animals away. On the bright side, a stick insect thought his shoulder cool. Chanyeol felt bad however that he panicked when it started moving to his neck and swatted it, swiftly ending its life.

At this point, Sehun thinks Chanyeol could even scare away a tiger if they ever come across one, or maybe even a band of gorillas.

Chanyeol started talking about his life in Seoul somewhere between Sehun’s how-much-nicer-it’d-be-not-to-know and thanks-for-boring-me-half-to-death.

Apparently he was a photographer.

How charming.

“-- but then I decided I would much rather do something I wanted, thus I went to another company and ditched the millions of won I--” “Shut up.” Sehun spat out.

Chanyeol pulled his head back in suprise and utter offence. “Mwo-”

“Shhhhh.” Sehun raised a hand and stopped in his tracks, “something’s here.”

For a moment the two stayed perfectly still, and nothing but the jungle spoke. Sehun clenched his jaw, dreading the gut feeling in him. He licked his lips and heard a rustle from his left. Not late after, Chaneyol saw the leaves move. He went reeling towards Sehun, clutching his arm. Sehun hissed, “You woke the tribe. Great.”

The man was small, but he looked furious.

“T-the tribe? Wh--”

“Maehokjeogin neon lovely”

Chanyeol started waking backwards, hiding behing Sehun’s shadow, grapsing onto his biceps. Sehun hissed and shook him off, “They’re doing their tribe chant, it means they won’t attack us yet.”

”Yet?” the other repeated, nervous.

Teum eopsi jopyeojin geori Bulgyuchikaejineun heartbeat Jamsi nuneul gama trust me.”

Chanyeol tilted his head at what he heard, “Is… is that… Korean?”

Sehun rolled his eyes and shoved him back,  “If you want to live to—“ but the tour guide couldn’t finish his argument for there was suddenly a loud screech from the bushes, making Chanyeol yelp and jump into Sehun’s personal space.

Sehun shoved him off, but Chanyeol only recoiled back into his place.

There was a spear by the bushes, both of them could easily tell. Whoever it was was heading for them at an eerily slow pace.

“Are they barbarians? CANNIB—“ “Shut up, and do not raise your voice. It only excites them to know you’re scared.” Sehun cut Chanyeol off. The latter gulped.

Then suddenly, there was a battle-cry like scream and the hair Chanyeol’s skin stood up.

From in front of them emerged at small, mud painted man, wearing a skirt made of leaves and a rock necklace. He looked enraged, his chest was heaving and his already narrow were narrowed. His mangled hair and rock pointed spear made him look intimidating… but not to them, not to anyone sane. In fact, Chanyeol was now just… confused.

Sehun huffed and rolled his eyes.

The tourist leaned to his guide and whispered, “Is he—“ “Yes. Just…” Sehun sighed, “let me handle this.”

Sehun walked over to the man in his normal pace, making the man point his speak at him. “You have upset the jungle.” the shorter one spoke.

“Upset the jungle? Or you and Baekhyun hyung?”

“HIS NAME IS TA!”

Chanyeol pulled his head back and Sehun rolled his eyes, “Minseok hyung, you should head back—“

“MY NAME IS POZI, CITY BOY!” Pozi, or to Sehun and the rest of the world, Minseok shouted at the man, slamming the end of his spear on the ground repeatedly.

Chanyeol decided to speak up at this point. “Jjangkkaman, you’re not a native?”

Sehun cursed Chanyeol’s stupidity and Minseok turned to him, “Native by heart.”

“Hmp, you know what, this is above my pay grade, we should just—“ but yet again, Sehun was cut short.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” someone screamed in and jumped on Chanyeol’s back. Chanyeol was quick to jolt him off however, and he shuddered the way he did when a bug crawled on him.

The man, who looked similar to Minseok, fumed in anger as well.

Chanyeol looked at him like spoiled pizza.

Sehun turned to Chanyeol. “They’re on drugs.”

The newly arrived mud covered man growled, “We are not!”

Sehun nodded his head in full disagreement.

“Baekhyun hyung, you’re wearing mud and leaves. Also, you pretend to be primitive but I caught you making a campfire and roasting marshmallows. Where’d you even get that?”

Minesok spoke, “The jungle provides.”

“Actually, I gave them that.” A separate voice chimed in, and soon a man in attire similar to Sehun’s appeared.

“I’m so sorry these two interrupted your tour,” the man spoke to an utterly confused Chanyeol, stretching his hand out to him. “Kim Jongdae. Biologist and meteorologist,” he introduced, shaking Chanyeol’s hand.

“Uh, Park Chanyeol… photographer?”

The two broke away and Sehun crossed his arms.

“These two, believe it or not, are actually my associates. They believe doing this makes them better scientists.” Jongdae explained, making Chanyeol nod his head as if it was now suddenly perfectly normal, perfectly understandable.

“That seems cool.” Chanyeol spoke.

Sehun pulled a face.

Baekhyun quipped, “Do you want to join our tribe?”

“Ya! I will not have you pull a Jongin here!” Jongdae scolded.

“Kai joined voluntarily.” Minseok spoke.

“Jong-in, his name is J o n g i  n!”

Sehun huffed, “Ye, it’s been fun. Let’s go back now Chanyeol.” Chanyeol suddenly frowned, “Mwo? But they just got here.”

Sehun shot him a look, “So you’re staying.”

Chanyeol was silent. Minseok and Baekhyun cheered and started doing their chant again. Chanyeol turned to Jongdae, who was shaking his head in disagreement.

He pursed his lips, “Alright. I’ll go with you Sehun-ie.”

Jongdae let out a breath of relief.

Sehun scoffed and started walking off, “Don’t call me that.”

Don’t mess up my tempo Deureobwa igeon chungbunhi I said don’t mess up my tempo Geunyeoui mameul humchil beat Eodiedo eopseul rideume matchwo 1, 2, 3 Don’t mess up my tempo Meomchul su eomneun ikkeullim

[autumn-maple13]

Lost to Time - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Disc of Cauthess

A roar echoed through Amara’s head – lights blinding her to everything around her as her head began to throb. She could feel things piercing her skin, felt something slice through her spine. There was a glow, then a fierce pulse of magic ripping through her.

Then there was nothing.

Amara gasped as she awoke, sitting up carefully when she realized she was still tucked in bed beside the quietly dozing Prompto. Ignis was gone, though a quiet conversation and the smell of coffee alerted her to where he was. The woman carefully shifted out of bed and went to the kitchen area to join her friend, surprised when he hooked an arm around her and held her protectively against his side, earning a chuckle from the redhead across from him, though Amara wasn’t blind to the flash of anger in his eyes. It seemed like Ardyn was almost showing a bit of protective nature himself, though his daughter doubted her friend could see the way his eyes had sharpened ever so slightly.

“Aren’t you two cute. How long have you been dating?”

Ignis huffed, reaching around behind him to pour another cup of coffee for his friend. The woman against his side felt his hand flinch on her waist, as if he hadn’t realized his own actions. “We aren’t.”

“Oh? But you look so comfortable holding her like that. Not to mention how easily you’ve jumped to her side every time something has happened.” Ardyn was teasing them, though a look beginning to emerge on his face made the woman gently break free from her friend’s grasp. Ignis gave her an apologetic look, his eyes darting to their new companion as he watched her finish making her coffee.

“Oh, it’s nothing like that, Ardyn.” The Glaive chuckled, reaching for the sugar. “I’ve been having a bit of a hard time recently. Ignis is just trying to make sure I don’t take another tumble.”

“I see,” her father mocked but dropped the subject and his sneer. “Don’t tell me your interests lie in one of the others of this little group?”

Amara didn’t mean too, but she couldn’t help but snort. Ignis looked at her with an arched brow, while she decided to stare a hole into her coffee cup. “Absolutely not. Let’s get the guys up, Iggy.”

“You get Prompto, I’ll get Gladio and Noct.”

“Yeah. Uh, Ardyn you might want to move your legs so Noctis doesn’t trip over you.”

“Oh dear.” The man did as she suggested, tucking himself away just so as the duo left to get their friends up. Prompto was thankfully already sitting up in bed, pulling on his boots. He turned to her with a smile before he leaned over to grab her clothes from the floor.

“You must’ve lost something, eh? Your stuff is all over the place.”

“Yeah, my fricken ribbon decided to disappear. You don’t see it do you?”

“Yup!” he grinned, untangling the item from one of her shirt’s buckles. “Must’ve gotten wrapped up while you were looking for it.”

“Must have.” She smiled, taking her clothes and waiting until he had stepped out of the room before she changed. Pulling everything on quickly, she checked around for anything that might have gotten scattered and gathered everything up. Ignis was soon to stick his head in, giving a nod.

“I’m just making eggs and toast. Is that alright?”

“Considering how bad the area around the Disc is rumored to be, I think we need something heartier.”

“Would you mind stepping to the carts and seeing what they have then?”

“No problem.”

It wasn’t long before the group was digging into the breakfast Ignis had made, as well as the sausages and fruits Amara had managed to get. Once everything was cleaned and stored away again, the guys gave Amara another concerned look, waiting until Ardyn stepped out of the caravan to go start his car.

“Hey Amara, did anything weird happen last night?”  Noctis questioned, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I feel kinda odd.”

“Yeah, same.”

“Mhmm.”

Amara pretended to be concerned herself, pinching her chin as she tried to feign thinking. “No, everything was fine. I think Ardyn was knocked out before anyone else, and none of us really moved last night… Maybe it’s because of how close we are to the disc now? I mean, my head hurts a bit more than yesterday but otherwise…”

Noctis seemed to buy it, nodding agreement when she brought up her head. “Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“If you guys are sure.” Prompto rubbed his neck. “Anyway, shouldn’t we just go ahead and get this over with?”

“Yeah.”

And just like that, she was climbing back into the passenger seat of her father’s car – giving the guys a wave as they pulled out onto the road.  Doubling back the way they came from the previous night, Amara tried to focus more on the sound of the Regalia’s engine as Noctis no doubt tried to keep from falling as far behind as he had before.

“” Absolutely not”, eh?” Ardyn’s chuckle pulled her from her focus, making her look over at him. “I just realized how intensely you said it. Pity, had I noticed earlier could have teased you both a bit more.”

She felt her face heat up, having not realized herself how what she said must have sounded. Burying her face in her hands as she groaned, she was unprepared to feel Ardyn’s hand pat her head as he slowed the car down to make another turn. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, of course not,” he laughed, and allowed silence to return. Trying to ignore the churning feeling in her stomach, the Glaive opted to stare out at the rocky landscape as the car raced down the long, curving road. Not looking up again until she realized he was slowing down, approaching a large blockade that she recognized as being Niff guarded. He pulled his car up and aside of the late gate, putting it in park as the Regalia pulled up beside him.

“You’ll be on your own from here, darling. Take care.” He gave her a soft smile before motioning for her to hop out, so she watched him look up at the gate as she walked around the car to join her friends, climbing between Gladio and Ignis in the backseat.

“Better not be a setup,” Noctis growled at the redhaired man, who only looked at him with feigned hurt.

“Have I given you reason to doubt me?”

“You don’t really inspire confidence,” Prompto muttered.

“Yeah, not very straightforward,” Gladiolus added, shifting in his seat to make a bit more room for the woman. Ardyn clearly chose to ignore that part instead calling out towards the top of the blockade.

“Hello! It’s me! Be so kind as to open up!”

The guys gasped as they heard the alarm begin to sound, the gate opening up for them.

“Wow, that worked?” Prompto looked back at them in confusion.

“I may not look like much, but I do have some influence.” Amara shuddered at the tone her father was speaking with now and was grateful to feel Ignis’s hand move to rest atop hers. “Aren’t you glad we came together? Heh, your audience with divinity lies ahead.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I drop you at the Archaean’s open door, and with that, bid you farewell.”

Despite the tense atmosphere that was engulfing the group, Noctis carefully drove the Regalia through the open gate – watching the road as he hurried to get past the line of waiting drop ships within.

“We’ve met some weirdos,” Gladio muttered as the King slowed to be a bit more cautious on the rocky path, earning a grunt of agreement from Ignis – whose hand tightened around Amara’s.

“Hope we never meet that one again.”

“Little harsh there, don’t you think?” Prompto asked curiously, clearly not wanting to be too hard on the man that had helped them but piped up again after a being met by a few moments of silence. “Guy really knew his nursery rhymes.”

“Nothing creepy about that!” Noctis groaned, but everyone fell into an uneasy silence as the road began to slope downward, a steep cliff off to their right and rough terrain ahead of them. The raven-haired man could hardly keep the speed slow as the path got a bit steeper, trying to maneuver carefully around steep curves until the path came to a dead end beside what appeared to be old ruins.

“Hey, are those familiar…?” Amara muttered as they were forced to climb out of the car, looking over the dirt covered stone remains for a moment.

“Who knows.”

“She’s right, look at the stone pathway.” On edge for a different reason now, the group hurried to follow the path, heading into a brief tunnel that opened almost immediately into a long, partially enclosed area whose floor was covered by stone slabs, more pieces of old building stone sticking up here and there.

“These ruins…”

The others followed as Noctis took off at a faster pace, leading them across the area and around a corner – only to pause when something else very familiar came into view.

“Is that what I think it is?” Prompto looked at his best friend, who nodded slowly.

“Didn’t expect to find a royal tomb here,” Ignis looked at Amara, arching his brow to ask her silently if she was alright. Strangely, there was no old monarch buzzing in her head yet, making her wonder if this tomb belonged to that one.

“Would be a shame to not grab that power, eh, highness?” the guys weren’t paying the duo any attention, though her gaze was locked intensely on the Arm lying just ahead of them.

“Let’s grab it and go.”

As the three ahead of them moved to grab the Arm from the ruined tomb, Amara dug her nails into Ignis’s hand when he attempted to offer it to her.

“I think it’s the one from then.” She muttered to him, looking a little fearful. “I don’t know what will happen when I try to reach out to it, but no matter what I’ll need you to keep them busy.”

“Alright.” They started towards the trio as Noctis reached out to receive his ancestor’s powers, and almost immediately Amara found herself taking a sharp breath – fire pulsing through her. But no sooner had the glow of his crystalline weapons faded did a massive earthquake shake the ground, knocking Prompto clear off his feet and sending even Gladio to his knees.

“Here we go again!” Prompto yelped, trying to get back to his feet.

“This one’s huge!” Gladio shouted, already getting up to get to Noct’s side.

“Get away! Quickly!” Ignis didn’t even care that his voice cracked from fear, grabbing Amara’s arm and dragging her less than carefully away from the tomb floor. Noctis couldn’t move though, and Amara was floored by the pain as well, as the earthquake sent another shock of magic and visions through them. They watched in horror as the tomb disappeared from below the King’s feet, sending him hurtling down in a cloud of dirt and dust that Gladio dove in not a moment later. The trio left above the cliff watched in amazement as the meteor beyond them began to shift and lift, but as soon as it had settled the boys rushed to the edge.

“Noct, you okay?!” Prompto called down the cliff towards the two brunettes.

“Thank heavens you’re safe. Is there a way back up?” Ignis couldn’t hide his relief at seeing his two friends standing there on a lower cliff, though a brief glance at the Glaive who was trying to get her hands to stop trembling made both blonds realize there was more than one problem to deal with.

“No, but there’s a path. Gonna see where it leads.” Noctis called back up to them but seemed to realize something else. “How’s Amara?”

“Shaken!”

“You guys take care of her, then try to get down!” Gladio shouted, looking to where his friend was motioning.

“Very well, we’ll look for a way! Be careful now!”

“You too!”

“What?! We’re going where?!” Prompto’s panic echoed off the stone around them, though he quieted down quickly when his friend groaned.

Amara shook her head at them, getting to her feet and looking at Ignis. “I have to get to the Arm.”

“Surely it’s lost?”

“No. The royal arms can’t be lost that easily.” She was trying to reassure herself as much as her friend, though Prompto’s confusion was clear when she looked at him. “Make sure Iggy doesn’t hurt himself. I’m going to meet up with Noct and Gladio below.”

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later. For now, let’s just say I have some unfinished business with that old king.”

Hurry along, pet, I’ll be waiting.

She looked at Ignis in surprise, making him give her a confused look of his own before she shook her head. Walking carefully over to the edge, she reached out her senses towards the rubble below until she felt the familiar prickle of magic – pulling a dagger from its holster before giving the blonds a smile.

“See you boys down there.”

“Wait-”

“Amara!”

The woman allowed herself to jump from the cliff, hurling her dagger towards the rubble below and feeling the air become charged around her before she warped. It was only a moment before she stood atop the debris that had once been the floor of the Tomb and gasped slightly at the sight of the King’s statue, clasping his sword, resting lightly atop it all a few feet away.

“Whatever you want to tell me, at least make sure it’s worth how much this is gonna hurt.” Reaching out, she felt the magic of the Arm burn but meld into her own power – accepting her far too easily before it joined the others in her possession. Even the burning pain from earlier ebbed dramatically, leaving her to look at her hands for a moment before fixing her attention on the stone man.

“Is… Is that it?”

I’m not the monster you seem to think I am, Amara. The woman whipped around and gasped at the sight of a raven-haired man in way too old clothes standing before her. Looking a bit too much like Noctis, he smiled slightly at her confused and shocked face.

I need a moment with you, Amara. You’ve been waiting for something without realizing what it is – and I think I owe it to you to give you some real answers.

[saey-bae]

Know You By Heart (Pt. 2) - Saeran/Reader

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

hellohello !! here’s part two :)

a little note here: you are not mc --mc, rika, and v are out of the picture in this series-- so i’ll be referring to you as (Y/N) (L/N), which is “your name” and “last name,“ respectively

if you’d like to be tagged for the rest of this series, make a comment of it below !!

as always, thanks for reading 💜; the rest is under the cut

It’s one of those lazy Sunday afternoons; the kind of day where time seems to move lethargically; the kind of day that casts sunny glows in living rooms and fills confined spaces with a false sense of idyllic peace.

Not in Saeyoung's bunker, though. There isn’t a single ray of sunlight that makes it past those titanium and steel walls-- the only source of light found in the room is a flickering artificial light that imitates the beauty of the sun; it's an insult to compare the natural glow to this fluorescent falsehood.

Saeran sighs, lowering his novel as he rubs at his eyes. A part of him longs to go out, to feel the warmth of the sun caress his cheeks and kiss his pale skin, but apprehension arises in his chest at the thought. Any yearning he feels dissipates entirely as he remembers the last time he went out-- while it seems like ages ago, in reality, a little more than a month has passed. 

Going to a local park for a stroll was supposed to be a simple pleasure. It wasn’t supposed to go so wrong. 

There had been too many people, too many noises, too much of everything. It was overwhelming, and he felt himself losing his composure when he realized didn't have any control over the situation. His chest had constricted in a way that made it hard to breathe, as if his lungs refused to accept the oxygen he drew in desperately-- it was a feeling that terrified him. It still does terrify him. 

Memories of incessant chattering still linger in the recesses of his mind, as do the strange looks he had received when he covered his ears and whispered to himself under his breath. Judgmental looks that told him he was a misfit, a freak. Someone who wasn’t right in the head. He vaguely remembered how Saeyoung took him home immediately after that, and how it took an hour before that feeling left his heart, leaving him drained.

He hasn't been out since. 

The sound of the bunker door opening shakes Saeran out of his reverie. He swallows hard, pushing down the memories before glancing up to see his brother conversing with someone at the door. He catches a glimpse of silvery-white hair when Saeyoung steps aside to let whomever it was in. Zen.

The young man smiles at Saeran as he crosses the threshold, though he makes no move to come closer. There are very faint remnants of grey and red make-up on his alabaster skin, as if he had rushed to get here after a production. "Hey, Saeran. How are you doing?" 

Saeran shifts, straightening. His mind runs through various things he could respond with, but all that comes out is, "Fine." 

"That's great." The smile never wavers, and there is a genuine sincerity in his tone that makes Saeran feel guilty for being so curt with him, but Zen doesn't seem to notice. 

"Anyway..." His crimson gaze turns back to Saeyoung as he digs out crumpled paper from his pocket. Tickets? "My friend's holding a piano concert tonight at a small venue downtown. It fits about a fifty people, but only forty are confirmed to come so I thought I'd invite the RFA --in person-- on her behalf.“

"Yeah?" His brother accepts the tickets with an uncharacteristic hesitancy as he glances back at Saeran. There’s a muted worry in his golden eyes, and Saeran doesn’t doubt that he’s remembering the incident as well. "Do you want to go?" 

"It'll be fun!" Zen pipes up enthusiastically, a charming and persuasive grin tugging at his lips. "She's a really talented musician." 

Saeran feels an inner turmoil, a strong tug from both sides that threatens to tear him into two; a part of him is curious and wants to go the show, but the other part tells him that forty people is a big crowd. 

"Saeran?"

"Yes." The word comes out before he can stop it. A deep regret resonates through him at such a hasty decision. "Let's go." 

The lethargic afternoon is swallowed up by the evening far too soon, but even hours after confirming they would go, Saeran still feels a sense of regret and anxiety thread through his limbs, weighing him down. However, he also feels the need to go through with his commitment and changes his clothing accordingly, throwing on a crisp black button up and a pair of jeans half-heartedly before heading out to the garage.��

Saeyoung is waiting in one of his cars, a sleek black 70s Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda. He rolls down a tinted window, watching Saeran with the same look of worry he had on earlier. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."

"It's fine." He climbs into the passenger's side, leaning back against the leather seat as he buckles up. “Let’s get going. It’s supposed to start at six, right?”

“Yeah.” His twin pulls out of the garage and, soon enough, he’s cracking stupid jokes while he fiddles with the radio system. 

Saeran stays silent, turning his head to gaze up at the sky. Crimson red streaks, as thick and vivid as acrylic paint across a canvas, highlight the smoldering oranges and soft yellows mingling in the atmosphere above. Even through the dark tinted window, the sky looks like its on fire, alighting all of which it touches.

 “Hey, Saeran?” A gentle nudge against his arm. “Ready to go?”

He turns to look at Saeyoung, then realizes that they’ve stopped moving. His eyes flicker up to the old building they’re parked near; the red bricks are weatherworn and faded, the dark grey paint on the front door chipping, and some delinquents have taken it upon themselves to decorate the side of the small building with spray paint. It looks practically abandoned. If not for the other cars parked along the sides of the street, he would have thought it was the wrong place.

He grimaces as he steps onto the street, remembering that there were supposed to be another forty people crammed inside the venue, and anxiety begins to gnaw at him.

The twins head into the concert venue, only to bump into the rest of the RFA members. Saeran greets them with a brief nod, his head lifting when he notices Zen standing off to the side as he talks animatedly with a girl in her early twenties... you. You’re wearing a casual t-shirt and jeans, a pair of headphones clamped around your neck like Saeyoung usually does-- it doesn’t look very professional.

The two of you laugh, and Zen gives you a quick peck on the cheek before noticing Saeran. The actor smiles brightly at him, and the you look up in turn. Somehow, to Saeran, your smile is even wider than Zen’s, and it’s directed at him.

And he can’t tear his eyes away from your happy look.

The silver-haired man takes the your hand and practically drags you over. “Hey, you two made it! We thought you weren’t coming.” 

“We said we would.” Saeran’s voice is quiet, flat. 

A silence breaks out over the group, and no one is quite sure what to say. But then,

“Thanks for coming,” you say cheerfully. Your voice doesn’t betray the fact that you’re trying to make up for an awkward moment, and Saeran appreciates it. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

His gaze meet yours. He’s silent.

Your eyes are impossibly bright and vibrant. They look like the burning sunset outside, like they hold fire and beauty and they could set the world alight with just a glance.

Meanwhile, his brother babbles on when Saeran doesn’t respond. “I’m Saeyoung and this is Saeran. Funny, we look pretty alike but we actually met a few years back and he’s been my roommate since.”

You laugh at that, but Saeran doesn’t find it particularly amusing.

”Sorry, he’s pretty quiet, but if you give him a bowl of rocky road ice cream with peanuts, you can get him to say almost anything.” Saeyoung grins, his voice lilting playfully.

Saeran elbows his brother in the ribs so fast, no one is quite sure if it actually happened, but you just smile. “I’ll remember that.” You take Zen’s hand and give it a little squeeze before letting go. “Alright, we’ve stalled for long enough. I’ll see the lot of you inside.” 

With that, you turn and leave, ducking into the large wooden doors at the end of the hallway.

“Well?” Jumin looks at the other members, his voice holding a touch of impatience. "Shall we?”

Zen’s brows knit together and he opens his mouth to retort something --probably about his tone-- but Yoosung and Jaehee beat him to it.

“I, too, would like to listen to Y/N’s playing, if you wouldn’t mind, Zen.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” the blond agrees quickly, “Let’s go.”

Saeran is still a little out of it as they file into the small room and take their seats near the front of the room, where you sit at a grand piano. The lights have been dimmed and the atmosphere seems warm, comforting, even with all these unfamiliar people around. He subconsciously relaxes, and realizes his anxiety has melted away at some point, though he doesn’t mull over that for long because you’ve started playing.

Your deft fingers shift slowly, waltzing across the black and white keys, and he loses himself in the moment.

The gentle sound of the instrument reverberates around the room and his heart swells at the indescribably tender, beautiful sound. Saeran doesn’t realize how empty he’s felt until the music fills him, wraps its arms around him in its gentle embrace.

His eyes close as he lets the lilting notes and rhythms wash over him and, for a moment, he remembers the person sitting at the piano. The person who’s weaving a plethora of notes together to create something entirely ethereal in its beauty. He remembers those bright eyes of yours, and how there was so much light in them, and he wonders if they look even brighter while performing.

However, he’s too afraid to peek at you, too afraid that this fragile, peaceful moment would fade all too soon if he looked. So he sits there, his eyes closed, picturing how your eyes would shine as you played.

“Mm...” Those eyes --the ones that had so enamoured him three years prior to now-- open slowly.

Saeran, who had pulled up a chair by your bedside some few hours ago, straightens up in his seat in an instant. When his gaze meet yours, he’s swept up in an ineffable feeling that ebbs in his chest, not unlike the first time he had seen that burning gaze of yours.

“Y/N...“

But yet... that light is no longer in your eyes when you look at him. Instead, they're dulled with a quiet confusion.

“Who are you?” 

Your whisper threatens to break him.

[akapeterman]

craving the past

Peter's down with the flu at the lake house, but his insecurities get the best of him and he doesn't let Tony know. Unfortunately, things get a whole lot more hectic than he intends, and the whole situation spirals out of his control.

link to read on ao3

Peter was really starting to get sick of this headache. 

It was low grade, more annoying than anything else, but the pain was there; scrambling his focus and mildly irritating his enhanced senses. 

He just wanted it gone.

He was staying at the lake house for spring break, and Mr. Stark had warned him that Morgan was recovering from a bug and by result was stir crazy and cranky from being cooped up for so long. Morgan was a force to be reckoned with, sick or not, and listening to her throw a tantrum was not at the top of his bucket list with this headache. Mr. Stark had said they could reschedule if he wanted, but May was going to Mexico for the week with Happy and Peter had decided it would be better for his anxiety if he was keeping busy and around people. 

Standing outside searching for Mr. Stark’s car, squinting against the sunlight, he was wondering if he made the wrong choice. 

He didn’t want to be alone, not really, but he was really tired and didn’t want to worry anyone. And Mr. Stark could always tell when he hadn’t been sleeping enough, so he had no chance with trying to hide it. 

A car pulled up in front of him and the window rolled down to reveal a familiar face, but not the one he was expecting. 

“Hop in, kid,” Happy grumbled. “It’s technically my day off and I have to be on time to meet May after her shift is over.”

Peter buckled himself into the car, glancing curiously at the head of security beside him. 

“Where’s Mr Stark?”

“What, I’m not good enough for you?” Peter rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean. I just thought he was supposed to pick me up today.”

“Pep had to run into the office and Tony didn’t want to bring Morgan all the way down here; I don’t know if he warned you, but she’s pretty cranky right now.”

“Oh. Yeah he did, yeah, that makes sense.” Peter couldn’t explain why his chest tightened at the fact. He shivered and pulled his knees up onto the seat to try and keep warm; when had it gotten so cold?

Happy gave him an odd look that Peter couldn’t quite read before turning his eyes back to the road. He opened his mouth then closed it again. 

“Kid, you’re usually talking my ear off by now. Are you alright?” Happy finally asked, somewhat awkwardly.  

“Sorry, yeah. I’m good. Just had a long day at school.” 

“Okay. Just checking.” 

Peter rested his head on the window, feeling the cool glass ebb away at his ever pounding skull. He zoned out, staring as the roads turned twisty and the city noise faded into the background. 

He didn’t sleep, though he wished he could. In all honesty, Peter kind of assumed this might be where his headache was coming from; he was so tired, but for the past few days, no matter what he just couldn’t seem to sleep. It seemed pointless to even try closing his eyes, so he just watched the trees zoom by in blurs of green.

The hours passed quickly, until finally Peter felt the car pull into the familiar gravel driveway. Happy got out of the car first, grabbing Peter’s backpack out of the trunk. 

Peter was a little slower. His brain took a moment to process that they had stopped, he still felt like he was moving. He opened his door and went to get his bag from Happy, but the moment his feet hit the rocky ground, black and white dots flashed across his vision and he stumbled. 

“Woah…”

A firm hand planted itself on Peter’s upper arm and everything slowly came back into focus. Shit. This was worse than he thought. 

“Peter, eyes on me.” Happy snapped his fingers in front of his face and Peter swatted his hand away. 

“I’m good, I’m good.” Happy gave him a look.

“You almost just took a swan dive into the gravel, try again.” 

“I just need to eat something. I was finishing my Spanish homework at lunch and didn’t really have time to eat, my blood sugars probably low.” Not a total lie, he did skip lunch, but that was more attributed to the vague nausea accompanying his headache than to his Spanish homework. 

Happy looked skeptical but nodded.

“Go get Tony to make you something to eat, I’ll bring your stuff in.” Peter immediately straighted. 

“Wait, no. Please don’t tell Mr Stark about the whole...you know. ‘Victorian lady’ moment,” Peter pleaded. 

“No can do, kid. He’s on a need to know basis when it comes to your health.” 

“Please, Happy.” Peter flashed him his puppy dog eyes and Happy relented.

“Fine. But go eat.” Peter gave him a thumbs up and walked towards the door with Happy not far behind picking up his bags, grumbling under his breath.

“Damn kid, making me soft.” 

-

Inside the house was a disaster. There were open children’s books and various toys strewn across the floor, a couple cushions pulled off the couches and something was boiling over on the stove. 

Still, Peter felt himself relaxing immediately as the familiar, homey environment welcomed him. He wasn’t even aware he was still so cold until the warmth from the fireplace eased up his shaking hands.

Tony walked down the hall at the sound of the door, looking as exhausted as Peter felt, and he held a finger to his lips when he saw Peter. 

“Good to see you, kiddo,” Tony greeted quietly. “Morgan finally fell asleep after the 50th bedtime story today, so no big ragers tonight, you hear?” Peter smiled.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” Tony’s posture changed, eyes more alert as he sized up Peter’s appearance. 

“You only call me that when something’s up, and you’re pale. What happened?” 

Happy chose that moment to chime in from the open doorway.

“Kid’s hungry. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, his blood sugar is probably tanking right now.” Peter turned to shoot Happy a venomous look and the older man just shrugged back. Luckily Tony didn’t notice the exchange and clasped his hands together.

“Now that I can fix. What’re you feeling like, Pete? We’re getting takeout tonight, but in the meantime we have a little leftover pasta, some soup—oh hell.” Tony’s eyes landed on the pot that was bubbling over and spilling onto the ground and he rushed to turn off the stove.

Peter made a beeline for one of the couches the minute Tony’s attention was off him, fatigue pulling at his body and melting him into the cushions. 

He kind of spaced out again, tuning into the white noise inside his head. He heard Tony invite Happy to stay for dinner and Happy decline, explaining he had to meet May at the airport on time for their flight to Mexico. 

Happy left with a “see ya later” over his shoulder and then it was just Peter and Tony. 

Tony, having cleaned up his mess, came and sat at the end of the couch and threw a protein bar at Peter. 

“Eat up, buttercup. I’m gonna order in dinner soon, what do you feel like?” 

Peter had absolutely no appetite, but he knew he had to eat. Stupid enhanced metabolism. 

“Um...I’m not really sure.”

“Come on, kid. Don’t you have any preference? Pizza, Chinese...Thai?” Peter tried not to show his discomfort as his stomach sloshed warningly at the talk of food. 

“Yeah, um, Thai sounds good. Is Pepper gonna want anything?” 

“Pep is staying overnight at the Compound to oversee some SI stuff, so it’s just us for the night. Kiddo, I hate to say it, but I am exhausted. Morgan is a real handful when she’s sick. Is it alright if we postpone our lab day and turn in after dinner?”

Peter nodded, both relieved and disappointed. That pang in his chest was back, and Peter felt bad. He hated to admit it, but he was a little jealous of Morgan. He kind of missed spending a ton of time with Tony, and he craved being around people right now but didn’t want to intrude and add more to Tony’s plate. Peter internally scolded himself for allowing himself to feel this way at all. He was just overtired, he shouldn’t be thinking he was a priority over Tony’s actual sick actual daughter. 

“Pete?” Peter startled when Tony tapped his arm to get his attention, realizing he had zoned out again. That was happening a lot today. 

“Hm? Sorry, yes. That sounds good.” 

 “You look dead on your feet, bud. When’s the last time you got a full night of sleep?”

“A few nights ago. Junior year is kind of kicking my ass, I’ve had a lot of homework,” Peter lied. Yes, he’s had tons of work, but even when he didn’t, he still couldn’t sleep. No amount of Melatonin or counting sheep seemed to change the fact that he was chronically awake. 

Tony seemed to believe that, but despite the lie, he still looked concerned. 

“An early night will be good for you, then.” Tony concluded, then stood up to start putting the cushions from the floor back in the missing places on the couches. Distantly, Peter wondered when Tony had become so mundane.

- 

Later that night, once Peter had picked at his Thai food and inconspicuously wrapped a good portion of it in his napkin that he threw out as soon as he got the chance, Peter finally worked up the courage to ask to watch a movie with Tony before they headed to bed. He didn’t know why asking made him feel so weird, they had watched movies all the time together before. Before everything had changed, and Peter had arrived back in a world that had seemingly moved on without him; a world where Tony had a kid who was biologically his.

But now, asking for something like this felt like such a big task, no matter how much the rational part of Peter’s brain assured him it wasn’t. When Tony agreed and tossed him the remote to pick out a movie while he went to the kitchen to whip up some popcorn, Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. 

“Get it together, Parker,” he scolded himself, rubbing at his eyes in hopes of dulling the slowly worsening ache in his head, “Tony doesn’t have time for you to start losing it.” 

By the time Tony returned, Peter had dropped his hand from his forehead and the familiar opening credits to The Hunger Games were playing on the TV. 

Tony sat down by Peter on the couch with a bowl of popcorn he set down on the coffee table and Peter allowed himself to stretch his legs over Tony’s, feeling a little touch-starved and unwell. 

Not even twenty minutes into the movie, when Peter was finally starting to relax and his eyes were beginning to droop, a familiar voice came from the top of the steps. 

“Daddy,” Morgan sobbed, “I had a bad dream.” Tony shot Peter an apologetic look in the dull light of the TV as he stood up and headed up to Morgan. 

“Hey, Maguna. It’s okay, I can stay with you until you fall asleep again,” Tony said gently. Clearly overtired and cranky. Morgan stomped her foot, tears and snot running down her face looking overall very distraught.

“I’m not going back to bed. The bad dreams will come back!” Morgan cried even harder, and the way her little voice was rising was amplifying Peter’s headache with vengeance. He covered his ears with his hands but it wasn’t enough to block everything that was going on from his enhanced senses. 

“What if you sleep in my room tonight, sweetheart? I’ll scratch your back if you want, and I’ll be right next to you if the bad dreams come back.” 

Morgan sniffed, pawing tiredly at her eyes with her hands, and nodded slowly. 

“I’ll be back down soon,” Tony said over his shoulder as he picked her up and walked down the hall to his bedroom. 

Peter, now awake as ever due to the unrelenting pain in his head and otherwise crippling insomnia, paused the movie as he waited for Tony to come back down. As the minutes ticked by, Peter grew more skeptical. Surely Tony was at least going to say goodnight before going to bed? Eventually, as fifteen minutes became thirty, and thirty became an hour, Peter realized that Tony wasn’t coming back down. He pressed play on the movie and 

The feeling in his chest burned more intensely than ever as he curled up into a ball and fell into a fitful sleep.

-

Peter woke up on the couch disoriented and overheated. There were vaguely hushed voices coming from the kitchen and there was a blanket over his shoulders that definitely wasn’t there when he fell asleep. It was a nice gesture, no doubtedly from Tony, but he was sweating buckets already and he pushed the blanket to the ground in an attempt to escape the uncomfortable heat . 

More awake now, he noticed he felt decidedly way worse than yesterday. The little bit of sleep he’d gotten hadn’t helped in the slightest, and he felt overall really shitty. Despite being really hot, he was shivering as though he were cold and his senses were dialled up. Damn. This sucked. He took a few deep breaths to try and regulate his temperature, and it worked a little. 

Morgan was standing on a stool and trying to grab a wooden spoon from where it was sitting on the counter behind a few loose pans. 

“Oops!” Morgan giggled as she knocked them off and all the pans clattered around her. 

“Shhhh, Peter is sleeping.” Peter chose that moment to make his presence known. 

“No I’m not,” he mumbled tiredly, finally feeling steady enough to swing his feet around so they hit the ground. 

“Petey!” Morgan yelled, her feet pattering against the floor as she ran over to him. She threw herself into his arms. He stumbled, almost going back down as he swayed but managed to keep his footing.

“You seem to be feeling better, Mo,” Peter noted, putting her down almost immediately and bracing himself on the arm of the couch. If she seemed put out by this, she didn’t show it. 

“My tummy doesn’t even hurt anymore! But Daddy said I couldn’t have pancakes today like you and I was really sad but instead I get oatmeal with apple slices and a juice pop at lunch if I’m good,” Morgan said excitedly. 

“That’s good. Did you sleep well last night?” Peter said, trying to keep his voice light. Tony grimaced despite Peter’s best efforts to avoid the topic.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I meant to come down and finish the movie with you but I ended up passing out alongside Morgan.” “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Peter said, the feeling in his chest coiled tighter than ever. “I conked out on the couch pretty much as soon as you left. You were right, I was pretty tired.” Another lie. Peter really was starting to weave himself into a web of them. 

“Still, I feel bad. Which is why I made you pancakes: just the way you like with triple the amount of chocolate chips than socially acceptable. With strawberries on the side.”

“I helped!” Morgan chimed in. Peter took in the mess of the kitchen, the sugar spilled across the counter, the broken egg on the floor and the flour in Morgan’s hair. 

“I can see that.” Morgan beamed. 

Tony finally looked up from the sizzling pancake on the pan and took in Peter’s disheveled appearance. 

“Woah, kid. You’re looking a little green around the gills there. You alright?” Peter thought about telling the truth, but then he looked down at the excitable little girl currently hanging onto his leg, and he forced a nod instead. 

“Oh yeah, totally. Got a bit of a headache, but that’ll be fixed with some food.” Tony gave him an odd look, before seemingly believing him. 

“Alright, there’s some pancakes there you can get started on before I’m done all these. Go ahead and get started.”

Peter was able to force down a pancake and a half before he felt the nausea return at full force. His mouth filled with saliva and his throat tightened and he knew he was only minutes away from disaster.   

“Hey, I never really got the chance to unpack last night. I think I’m gonna head to my room and take a shower, put away all my stuff, all that.” Peter put all his effort into keeping his voice as steady as possible. 

“Sounds good, bud.” Tony said absently, distracted by the animated story Morgan was currently telling about some of the other kids in her Kindergarten class.  

The minute Peter stepped into his room and closed the door behind him, he headed immediately to the ensuite bathroom and turned the shower on full blast. 

Then, he kneeled in front of the toilet and promptly puked up his breakfast. He heaved hard and tried to be as quiet as possible as tears of exertion ran down his face.

He was undeniably sick. 

Shit. He needed to tell Tony. He wanted his super-kid meds that Bruce had synthesized for him, and honestly, he also just wanted a hug. When he was home, May always cuddled with him when he wasn’t feeling well. He longed for that kind of comfort right now.  

Peter actually did hop in the shower once his stomach settled, and the warm water helped his aching muscles feel better. He changed into a pair of sweats and pulled on an old t-shirt of Ben’s he didn’t even realize he had packed. 

Peter supposed he should have figured out he was sick before now. He didn’t really get sick as often anymore, but when he used to he would always put on Ben’s old clothes.

He practiced saying the words in his head as he walked down the hall on shaky legs, anxious for no real reason. It was his fever, mostly, but also in part a very real insecurity that had planted itself in his head since the Reversal that Tony wouldn’t care about him anymore the moment he became a burden. He had his own daughter now, afterall. Still, he took a deep breath and spoke.

“Um, Mr Stark, I’m not really—” 

“One sec, Pete. Morgan’s throat hurts again, can you grab her a juice pop from the freezer while I get the thermometer from the bathroom?” 

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” “Wait, Petey. Lift me up, I wanna get it out of the box myself but Mommy puts them on the top shelf so I can’t reach them,” Morgan said, tugging on Peter’s sleeve. Peter ran a shaky hand over his face. 

“Sure, Mo,” he said tiredly. He picked her up under the armpits, and Peter wishes he could turn back time and erase what happened next. 

Somehow Morgan’s little foot had gotten tucked partially into his hoodie pocket when he lifted her up, and as he went to put her down, she tried to pull her foot out. The sudden movement knocked him off balance, and Morgan tumbled into the kitchen counter behind them, arm outstretched. 

Her shriek is not one Peter will ever forget.

“Oh my god, Morgan!” Peter knelt down to see what was wrong, but black and white spots in his eyes had him sitting down all the way. Tony ran down in panic at the sound of his daughter’s sobbing.

“What the hell happened?” Tony asked frantically, getting on the floor with them and checking Morgan over from head to toe.

“Peter dropped me!” Morgan bawled.

 “Jesus, Peter! What were you thinking?” Tony’s words stung more than a slap in the face. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Tony’s expression was stony and unreadable as he wrapped Morgan up in a blanket and into his arms, avoiding her arm as she continued to sob. 

“I’m taking her to the hospital. Her arm is already swelling, I don’t want to risk it being broken and us not getting it checked.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said again, trying to keep his voice from trembling. Tony didn’t pay him any attention, focusing solely on trying to calm Morgan down.  

 “Rhodey will be here before I’m back, he’s coming for lunch. Please clean up the kitchen while we’re gone. And for the love of God, Peter. She’s just a little kid. You have to be more careful.” 

Tony was loading Morgan into the car within minutes, and even after they pulled out of the driveway, Morgan’s sobs echoed in his head. She had been crying because of him.

The feeling in his chest was burning now, like a fire spreading to his head and stomach as he watched them pull out of the driveway. He tried to make his way to his room so he could lie down, but he had to stop in the hall when he got too dizzy to move forward. 

Just standing there unable to move, he let his guilt bubble to the surface. 

None of this would’ve happened if he’d just stayed away. He wouldn’t have dropped Morgan, she wouldn’t have even been in danger if he hadn’t come over. Her arm would be fine, she wouldn’t be hurt. God, he couldn’t forget the way she was wailing. That was his fault. His fault. Heat was rolling over him in waves, suffocating heat. He tried to take in a breath, and oh god. He couldn’t breathe. 

His knees hit the ground hard as he tried to heave air into his lungs, embarrassment and guilt and so many other unrecognizable emotions were all bundled up and being amplified by his fever. 

He was so overwhelmed, so dizzy, and everything was dialed to eleven. He tugged his nails across his skin, hoping to get relief from how tight his skin felt against him. He felt so claustrophobic, everything was way too much. How could he be so goddamn stupid. 

Ever since coming back from the Snap, everything was different. Tony had Morgan now. He had the kid he’d always needed. And now Peter was losing Tony, and he had no way of getting him back if that happened. That’s how it always worked, anyone he trusted and loved like a father was taken away from him. 

Ben. 

Oh god. Peter sobbed into his hands, hard, his whole body shaking. He missed him. The way Ben would hold him tight when he was sick, the way he always knew instantly when he wasn’t feeling well. Ben always knew what he needed, often before Peter himself even knew. Peter craved that feeling of love more than anything else right now, and all he could do was cry in its absence. 

In the midst of his panic attack, he hadn’t even heard the door open. 

“Peter?” A soft voice called from the door. Pepper was home from work. “Tony texted me the situation and—oh my god. Peter!” Peter only cried harder as he heard Pepper rushing into the hallway, her every step feeling like it was pounding straight into his skull. 

“Are you bleeding anywhere? Holy shit, Peter, what’s going on?” Pepper kneeled down beside him, hesitant to touch but hovering her hands nearby. 

“I want Ben,” he cried, beginning to feel detached from his body. His head felt fuzzy and he found himself struggling to stay conscious. Pepper made a soft noise.

“Come here, honey,” she said, opening her arms. Peter melted into her embrace, and Pepper gasped a little as his skin made contact. “How long have you had a fever?” 

But Peter was beyond words at this point. Being wrapped in her arms only made him cry harder. He didn’t deserve this; didn’t she know who’s fault it was that his daughter was in the hospital? His breathing picked up again, he was going through the motions but no air was entering his lungs.

“I need you to breathe with me, alright? Inhale for 4, hold for 7, let out for 8. Can you do that with me, sweetheart?” 

Peter managed to keep up with her as she counted, and his breathing slowly began to even out. but the tears didn’t stop falling. Nothing felt real at this point, he was floating and detached and void of all feeling but fear and hurt. 

He could vaguely make out Pepper’s voice talking to someone else, but he couldn’t focus on anything. 

“Rhodey, thank god. He’s burning.” There was another hand that moved against his forehead, this one rougher than Pepper’s soft touch, but none less gentle. 

“We need to get him into the tub. I’ll carry him there, can you go ahead and fill the bath? Less than halfway with lukewarm water.” Rhodey was talking seriously, and he sounded scared. Peter was losing a grip on his surroundings. 

“And call Tony. Ask him what symptoms Peter’s had since he’s been here.”

“I will.” A soft kiss was pressed to his hairline before footsteps retreated down the hall. 

That was the last thing he processed before everything went black.

[kansascityhappenings]

Joe’s Weather Blog: Winter storm now likely for KC with ice/sleet and snow (THU-1/9)

It’s Thursday and today will be the 22nd straight day with temperatures above average…and because of quirks in the timing of the colder air arrival into KC…tomorrow will be the 23rd straight day. Realistically though…tomorrow is the transition to winter heading into the night…and through the night.

This will be a  VERY dynamic storm…severe weather including tornadoes in areas of the south…colder air plunging into the Plains…a developing snowstorm with ice to start in the MO/KS region…and possibly flash flooding as well for areas especially SE of KC towards the I-44 corridor region and the Lakes area.

Everything is on the table with this storm…including near blizzard conditions IF we get stronger winds again on Saturday with the heavy snow combination. I talked about this with Alex and Karli yesterday…as you know on the air and here in the blog I’ve been banging the snowstorm potential for a few days now…and there is no reason to change that tune at this point.

Forecast:

Today: Variable clouds with more sunshine this afternoon. VEin /RY windy with gusts to over 40 MPH…and warm Highs in the mid>upper 60s. Record today is 64° set back in 1902. I thought last night we could tie that record…IF we get enough sunshine this afternoon we should break it!

Tonight: Mostly cloudy…a few showers are possible but most may remain dry. Winds start to fade a bit as well. Lows gradually dropping into the 40° range after daybreak tomorrow.

Friday: Rain develops later in the AM into the afternoon. Some thunderstorms are possible SE of KC. The front that comes through and slowly sends temperatures down will be somewhere close to KC. Areas SE of the Metro may still end up in the 60s! For KC we continue to slowly fall off into the low>mid 30s in the evening. I think the evening rush will be OK

Friday night: We transition to freezing rain and sleet. This will lay a layer of ice down. Temperatures tumble to around 20-25° be daybreak.

Saturday: Moderate to heavy snow develops…3-6″ is a 1st guess for snow totals which may be influenced by whether or not we have sleet cutting into the potential snow amounts…plus the winds will blow the snow around quite a bit. Temperatures 20-25°. Areas that have more ice may end up with less snow. That may be just SE of the Metro towards Sedalia and Clinton and westwards into KS.

Sunday: Partly cloudy and cold…single digit lows and highs only around 30° or so.

Discussion:

Buckle up…this storm has it all and there ARE going to be curve balls thrown at us that alter the outcome…some of these curve balls start tomorrow…the bulk of the curve balls come Friday night into Saturday. There is bust potential to some aspects of this forecast. It won’t be right for all areas…I just envision this outcome. There could be a shift of the storm track…that cuts or increases the snow amounts…there will be some snow jackpots and some snow disappointments from this.

This storm is more typical of what we used to get in the winter and what I mean by that is this, last year every snowstorm showed it’s game plan early and mostly followed it’s plan…hence the forecast accuracy. This storm hasn’t really revealed it game plan yet. I think there are surprises ahead and possible frustrations coming…that may require alterations to the forecast even later Friday night and Saturday. Consider yourself forewarned. I’m still NOT comfortable with this storm at all and the timing of all the transitions isn’t going to be pretty.

So with all that said…here goes…

Good thing the football game is on Sunday and not Saturday!

There is a lot happening and IF we can get this right…from a timing and ice/snow totals perspective this will be trick for sure.

1st the storm…

You can see it diving through CA this morning…

That is the storm…you have to look at it carefully to see it.

That storm will cut into the SW part of the country and then move into TX and come sharply NE into the Plains on Saturday. Let’s go up to about 18,000 feet and track the “U” shape…that is the storm.

Notice how a little circle develops…that means the storm is “closing off” and intensifying. When the circle “opens up” that means the storm is weakening to some degree. You can see how it goes through various phases here in the Plains especially.

That is what we try and track and talk about the storm track…because towards the north and northwest of that there is a comma head or wrap around part of the storm…and during this time of the year…moisture “wraps around” and into cold air. That creates snow…and potentially heavy snow at that.

Wobbles in that storm track takes heavy snow areas and shifts them NW or SE…also how well the comma head comes together is vital to getting heavy snow. We’ll be relying on this comma head to get the bulk of our accumulating snow. The timing on that is sometime Saturday into Saturday late afternoon.

Should there be a wobble southwards…the snow forecast is going to heavily bust. ALL data last night indicates that the storm is taking a favorable track for snow in the KC area. Again though…wobbles and a malformed comma-head means glitches in the snow potential/amounts.

I just don’t have the greatest feeling (confidence) about this storm yet in terms of 100% guaranteeing heavy snow in KC. Hopefully that comes tomorrow…but we need to prepare for at least 2″ to as much as 8″ of snow from this storm on top of ice.

As far as the ice impact goes. Temperatures tomorrow will gradually get colder as the day moves along. Whatever we are at 12AM tonight…mid 40s+ will be the high Friday I think. When you wake up tomorrow though we may still be in the 40-45° range! It should gradually drop to the mid 30s by the evening rush…so whatever falls here locally tomorrow will be liquid.

Tomorrow night as the lower part of the atmosphere here gets colder and falls below freezing…the rain will convert to freezing rain. In a sense the atmosphere will be getting colder from the ground upwards through about 7,000 feet. What I mean by that is there is going to be about 6-9 hours tomorrow night into early Saturday where there is a layer of above freezing air above us…this layer will likely prevent snow for reaching the ground…but that then means some sort of freezing rain/sleet scenario develops…after about 9PM Friday night and lingering to about daybreak Saturday. Below that layer the air is getting colder. When you wake up Saturday we should be near 25° with at least a glaze of ice out there from what has fallen and frozen on the surface. This will lead to icy roads to start the weekend.

So a layer of ice will be put down. This isn’t power outage ice amounts I don’t think.

The trick to the whole storm is the snow situation and how well the “comma head” part of the storm comes together. After daybreak the layer of above freezing air above us will be removed That means that what falls will now be snow.

IF the comma head is somewhat malformed we won’t get more than 3-4″…IF it come together the potential for over 4″ increases. Then you add in the wind especially early in the afternoon and you add the colder air developing which means a more fluffy snow…and that creates better snow ratios. When the air is colder…it allows the snow to pile up more…

Conventionally we look at 1/2″ of moisture equate to about 5-6″ of snow…when the air is colder…that same amount of moisture will mean 6-8″ of snow. When the air is very cold it could mean 10″ of snow.

So that is another thing that we watch for as everything comes together.

The morning NAM has indeed thrown a few curveballs out…including having that malformed comma head snow production part of the storm move through the KC Metro…it sort of becomes more formed east of the Metro. It has widespread 1-4″ of snow in the KC area with heavy amounts across northern MO in excess of 4-6″ towards the IA border and higher amounts to the east of KC towards central MO. Again…no need to commit to that outcome(s) either…it just throws up yellow flags to me. Then again the NAM model though today was going to be cloudy all day and around 55° so that isn’t going to work out too well. The new hi-res NAM model nails us with snow…3-8″ worth.

Other data overnight is still bullish on the snow potential. Again like yesterday…looking at an ensemble approach, which isn’t used as much as it should be used by others out there talking about the weather…this is where we stand…(see yesterday’s blog for what the “ensemble” approach is)

The potential of at least 2″ of snow…is showing up in 65% of all the models…that’s 96 model outputs that I looked at. The EURO especially is the most bullish with 35 of the 52 runs overnight showing at least 2″ worth. In terms of amounts the Canadian is the most bullish.

As far as today goes…and noteworthy in it’s own right I think…record high temperatures are possible>likely. at 9AM we’re in the mid 50s. There are clouds out there but there is also sunshine breaking through. We’ve seen high winds overnight…gusts to 50 MPH and as I type this we’re still getting 40 MPH winds…the record high is 64° set back in 1902. The key is getting enough breaks in the clouds…but as of 9AM we’re 6° away from tying the record and 7° away from breaking the record. This satellite picture should update through the day for you.

  Oh and to top things off a nasty severe weather outbreak is forecast down to the south of the region…for tomorrow into tomorrow night…

and Saturday into Saturday night…

There may be strong tornadoes with this outbreak(s) in the southern US over the next few days.

Like I said at the start of the blog…this storm is going to be nasty for many areas of the country east of the Rockies.

OK that’s about it for now…I may get a brief update out this afternoon time permitting but things start to get a bit hairy at work now that all this is coming together…so some long days are coming up.

Our feature photo is from Michael Legel‎ out in Lees Summit yesterday. Oh. My. Goodness.

Joe

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2020/01/09/joes-weather-blog-winter-storm-now-likely-for-kc-with-ice-sleet-and-snow-thu-1-9/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2020/01/09/joes-weather-blog-winter-storm-now-likely-for-kc-with-ice-sleet-and-snow-thu-1-9/

[imaginethis114]

Date Night

Fandom: Twilight

Word Count: 1291

Characters: Paul x reader

Warnings: None

Summary: A typical date night with Paul turns into an evening of a lifetime

 I rushed out of the house about an hour before sunset, down the driveway towards my old school white jeep, when I noticed the driver’s door was open. Eerily confused, I cautiously edged towards to the jeep to investigate further. Then I heard to radio softly playing a very familiar song and saw a pair of very large black Converse perched on my driver’s side dashboard. I knew immediately it was Paul.

 He heard the crunching of the rocky drive under my shoes and shot up. “I told you I would beat you! I finished patrol, showered, changed, and barely ran here, and I was still ready before you. I even had time to put our CD in and pick you some flowers!” He proudly declared this as he held up a bunch of delicate wildflowers. “ I will say the time waiting was worth it, don’t know how it is possible but you look more beautiful than usual.”

 I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and a sheepish smile spread across my face. “Alright,” I conceded, “you win. You get to drive.” I pretended sighed out of disappointment as he popped open the passenger door for me. I climbed in and pulled my hair into a ponytail in preparation of the wind from having the top off the jeep. “Well, what are we doing tonight?” I asked. “Well, I am sure glad you asked Y/N. Do I have a great night planned for us this evening. Ma'am, please buckle your seatbelt and place your tray in the upright position, as the Date Night Express takes off. Please also take note of all emergency exits at this time.” I laughed at his flight attendant impression and he winked at me as he pulled out of the driveway.

 As we listened to the CD he made me full of songs that reminded him of me, we sped down the windy road towards La Push. I moaned. He eyed me suspiciously but just kept driving. I secretly hoped we weren’t in for another evening of beach bonfire and wolf pack. Not that I didn’t love that and them, because I really did, I was just hoping for something different and more intimate. It seemed that I maybe getting my wish, we drove pass the turn for La Push. As we drove past it, Paul took my left hand and started absentmindedly bestowing soft warm kisses. Starting at the back of my hand moving to each one of my knuckles and then finger tips. He lightly kissed the palm of my hand and then placed it on his cheek. I paused there for a moment, and then worked my hand down to land where his rested on the gear shift. He smiled as he grasped onto my hand. I felt a rush of calm and warmth rush over me as his giant hand encompassed mine.

 We started to drive up biggest cliff set outside of town, up a winding and inclined path. I asked again “What are doing tonight?”, but this time much more excited. Clearly Paul had planned something. This was both shocking and thrilling. I was getting so excited I could hardly stand it.

 We drove for what seemed like a lifetime, but Paul assured me it was only about 20 more minutes. We finally leveled out some ontop of the cliff, and Paul put the car in park. He hopped out and came to get my door. He offered me his hand as I slid out of the jeep. “We walk from here, champ. You cool with that?”

 I shrugged and said “Try to keep up, yeah?”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You don’t even know where we are going. But by all means, try to find it. I would love to have you get us lost in the woods, so I then can heroicly save the day and then tell everyone what a terrible sense of direction you have and that you would literally be lost in more way than one without me. Your knight in shining armor.” I could see him puff out his already very large chest and strike what I assumed was a knightly pose.

 "FINE. Lead the way Sir Fluffy Tail.“

“IT ISN’T THAT FLUFFY Y/N. IT IS A NECESSARY ANATOMICAL TOOL. I NEED IT FOR BALANCE.”

“Awh, but it is so cute. My favorite thing about your wolf form. You are so fluffy and cute!”

“Stop talking. Like I cannot handle you.”

“Never! You will never silence me!" 

Suddenly I felt myself being lift from the ground and everything got turned upside down as he threw me over his shoulder, laughing hysterically at my pathetic yelp of protest. "Who is cute and fluffy now, hmm?” he said gloating. “Still you.” I said, as I hung from his shoulder, pounding my fists into his back.

 Just a few seconds later, he flipped me over, put me down, and said “Ok, ok. We have to get moving or this epic date is going to get ruined.” He grabbed my hand and started leading me through the woods. I walked for a few moments with Paul, enjoying the dusk sounds of the forest. “Not much further” he said.

 Finally, he lead me into a clearing that was the top of a cliff that overlooked a part of the ocean inlet that I had never seen before. Just a few feet in front of me, I noticed a blanket, a picnic basket, a CD player, and what seemed like hundreds of lit candles spread out through the clearing. He released my hands and walked to turn on the CD player and soft sweet music began to play. I honestly stood there for a moment, breathless at this scene before me. Paul really had put a lot of work into this. I walked towards where Paul was staring back at me with a hand extended. I took his hand and reached up as far as I could to kiss him. “I can’t believe you did this. This is amazing. Thank you Paul.”

 “Well actually, Y/N, there is more.“ His voice sounded anxious and excited all at the same time. I stared at his soft brown eyes, noticing that the orange glow of the sunset reflected perfectly into them. He grabbed both of my hands in his and cleared his throat.

 "Before I met you, I was on edge all the time. Angry at everything and everyone. Despite the brothers connected to me, I was isolated and alone. You have changed all of that. The day I met you, I found my missing piece. You complete me.”

 Truly confused at this point, I opened my mouth to agree and ask why he was gushing, but he shook his head and kept going. “You are my best friend. You are the gravity that holds me to this Earth. Everyday you bring a light into my life I didn’t know was possible. You are kind, smart, strong, courageous, adventurous, funny, and beyond beautiful. Y/N you are more than I ever knew possible. You make me the happiest man there is, truly you do. There is only one thing I would change about you.”

 Even more confused, I asked “What would that be?”

 Paul sunk to one knee and fished a box out of his pocket, as he did this my heart raced a million miles an hour and my eyes started to fill with tears. 

“Your last name.” he said as he answered my question. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He opened the velvet blue box to show a gorgeous oval shaped diamond ring. Too breathless to speak, I nodded yes. I bent down to kiss him as he slipped the ring on my finger.

[inadeepanddarkdecember]

･ﾟ: *✧ lost nights✧*:･ﾟ

[[ I highly recommend listening to this playlist while you read! Pasting it ugly-style too because my theme is fucking up the link for anyone trying to click through on my blog. ]]

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLMBzl7puwIYLutdI5atf5UWYVi0RAbq1F

Cyrus’s knee bounced as he waited, impatiently listening to the sounds outside his bedroom door. His curfew had passed hours ago, but he was still fully awake. Fully dressed. Waiting. His phone buzzed, and his hand lashed out like a whip to grab it.

[Thomas, 1:34 AM:] Is she gone yet?

[Sent, 1:35 AM] No not yet.

[Thomas, 1:35 AM:] I can go if you don’t think you can make it.

[Sent, 1:36 AM] Just give me a few more minutes. She cant be up much longer.

After a few minutes passed with no response, he set his phone back down. It was faint–if he wasn’t listening this closely, he would have missed it–but he could still hear the sounds of the tv coming from the living room. His mother had already showered; as best he could tell, she had already finished her nightly routines, but of course, it had to be tonight that she procrastinated on sleep. What was she even doing awake? It was a Thursday; she had work in the morning. He had school as well, but he had given up on sleeping for the night as a consequence of his plans. He could always nap.

He went through his mental checklist again: his backpack leaned on the wall across from him; he had removed anything unnecessary for tonight and replaced it with some snacks and, more importantly, his borrowed camera, instant camera, and a pack of film for the instant. It felt like so little, but Thomas had the blanket and Cyrus did always have the propensity to overpack and overprepare. His jackets hung by the door, and he was already wearing his spare pair of shoes so he could just grab his jackets and go. His keys were in his jacket pocket, and his phone was, of course, beside him. He had refilled his water bottle. That should be everything.

He froze when he realized the tv had stopped. Sometime during his mental review, his mother had shut off the television. He picked up his phone.

[Sent, 1:48 AM] Shes gone. Be right out.

He gave it another minute, listening hard, and when he didn’t hear anything, he stood at last, stretched, and threw on his backpack.

Thomas and his car idled a small distance from Cyrus’s apartment complex, and in short order, Cyrus himself appeared, climbing into the passenger seat. His escape had gone smoothly; he threw his backpack on the ground, buckled his seatbelt, and immediately started zipping himself into his two jackets.

“There you are,” said Thomas as he returned the car to life and pulled away from the curb. “Any later, and we might have missed the meteor shower.”

Cyrus looked over, eyes wide and alarmed, but before he could say anything, Thomas laughed and held up a hand. “Kidding, kidding. We’re gonna be fine.”

Cyrus’s shoulders slumped, and he shook his head with a wry little smile playing on his lips. “Asshole,” he murmured, good-natured. Comfortable and warming, he sunk into his seat and put his feet on the dash as Thomas continued talking.

“Do you mind if I put my tunes on today? I discovered this cool new band, Catfish and the Bottlemen, last week. Have you ever heard of them?”

“Go ahead. I don’t think I have.”

With his spare hand, Thomas pressed play on his phone, and the first song began to drift out through the car’s speakers. Through the car window, Cyrus watched the darkened houses fly by; they had left the urban areas, and now it was just endless suburbia, the same five homes in the same five shades of cream over and over and over and over again. After a minute or two, Cyrus asked, “So where are we going?”

“Oh, it’s this great place about an hour and a half outside the city–two hours from where we are now. It’s up on a bluff near the ocean–very windy there–off some rocky side roads. My dad took me there the first time I went, and I’ve been back a few times with some of my other friends. It’s great; you’ll love it.” He paused a moment to glance at Cyrus. “You might get cold though. You can borrow my windbreaker if you need it. My letterman should be enough for me. I have hotter blood than you, after all.”

“We’ve discussed this.” Cyrus’s tone was sharp, and Thomas’s teasing smile wavered into worry. Cyrus smirked. “I don’t have blood. I’m a vampire, remember?”

Thomas laughed, at once relieved and amused. “Yes, yes, of course. How can I forget?” His voice dipped into a dramatic tenor. “You’ve come to absorb my elven powers under the light of the new moon and the magic of the falling stars. Once you’ve sucked me dry, you’ll feed my body to the leviathan. I am naught but a witless pawn in your nefarious schemes, driving to my doom. Alas.”

He bowed his head for a moment, and Cyrus laughed. “It’s not your fault. None can resist my many, many, many charms. Even the most virtuous maiden falls before me.”

Thomas chuckled a little more as he shook his head, and his voice returned to a normal tone as he said, “I got you a coffee, by the way, in the cupholder. I know you usually prefer tea, but it’s going to be a long night; don’t want you falling asleep as soon as we get there.” He gestured toward the cup with a wiggle of his elbow.

“That might happen anyway.” Cyrus had taken a nice, long nap for most of the day to try to reduce any later sleepiness, but all-nighters had never been his strong suit. If no time else, he felt confident that he would end up asleep during the car ride back. Nevertheless, he picked up the indicated coffee cup and took a sip. Despite the wait from whenever Thomas had bought it to now, it was still warm–no longer hot, but still warm. It was soft, creamy, chocolatey, a little sweet: a mocha. While Cyrus could drink tea black, he much preferred milk and sugar to ease coffee’s intensity. He gave a small hum of approval as he took another sip. “Thanks.”

The pair lapsed into silence for a while, Cyrus sipping his coffee and both enjoying the music. Several songs passed, one Thomas identified as a Catfish and the Bottlemen song. When the music next changed, however, Cyrus raised and eyebrow and asked, “Is this All-American Rejects? It is, isn’t it?”

“What? They’re not that bad.”

“I’m judging you.” He took another sip of his coffee.

“You recognized them.”

“They were inescapable on the radio,” he said, making a show of a shudder.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can change it if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll survive.” Cyrus’s teasing tone returned, faintly.

A smile touched Thomas’s lips as he shook his head. “Whatever you say.”

Cyrus’s attention drifted back out the window. The yards of the homes grew ever larger as they passed, one by one, and fields started to sprout up between them. Trees came down from the hillsides and slowly began to press in around the winding roads. Everything was still dark, dark, dark, and Cyrus kept glancing toward the sky, hoping to catch sight of a wayward falling star. The Lyrids weren’t supposed to come in earnest until the wee hours before dawn, but that didn’t stop him from looking. They were lucky: the skies were crystal clear tonight, and the further they traveled, the more they could see.

Soon, Thomas started talking again and pulled Cyrus back into conversation. He told Cyrus of his latest ventures in the haunted dressing room, updated him on the drama of the runaway actor, complained bitterly about the injustice of some music company or another, and rambled about his newest favorite thing in history, the Ghost Army of WWII. Cyrus, in turn, listened more than anything, but also offered his thoughts on all these things and spoke of the book he’s been reading and complained about what, he swore, was the worst movie he’d seen in a very long time.

The miles and minutes passed unnoticed, rivers of asphalt stretching out behind them. Human habitation all but disappeared, and their car became the only source of warmth and light on the road. The dull roar of the ocean joined the background bass of all the music. The road decayed beneath them, from tar to gravel to packed dirt, and the trees closed out the sky. Eventually, they reached the end of the road.

“Alright. We have to walk the rest of the way. Don’t worry; it isn’t far,” said Thomas as he shifted the car into park. Both of them got up, gathered their various things, then set off down the trail. Cyrus had merely the jackets he wore and his backpack, whereas Thomas carried a large folded blanket in his arms and had thin duffel bag slung over his back. Cyrus thought about asking what was in the bag, but he decided he would learn soon enough and asked a different question: “How did your dad find this place?”

“You know, I never asked? This is private property, but I’ve never had any trouble from anyone. He was probably just exploring, but maybe he’s friends with the owner?” Thomas shrugged, and all Cyrus could do was shake his head.

It wasn’t much farther until the trees opened up, forestry giving way to grassland and raw cliff. Waves roared against the stone, and the scent of sea spray filled the air. The sky yawned far above them, swirls of stars and light visible that had been long masked by the urban glow, and Thomas jogged a little ahead to lay out the blanket. “This is it!”

“It’s beautiful,” Cyrus murmured, and when Thomas looked over at him, expression asking for repetition, he said more loudly, “I like it.”

“Knew it,” said Thomas, very proud of himself.

“Don’t sound so smug,” he said, smiling and shaking his head a little as he came over and sat down on the blanket. He began to unpack his backpack, but paused as he watched Thomas unzip the duffel bag. He recognized the object withdrawn immediately.

“A telescope? Where did you get that?”

“I borrowed it from Anthony. He has a test tomorrow, so he’s missing this. It won’t help us find the meteors, but since we’re already all the way out here…” He let his voice trail off as he set up the instrument.

Cyrus hummed approval and fussed with his instant camera a bit before somewhat suddenly bringing it up and snapping a quick picture of Thomas, who looked over at the bright flash, rubbed his eyes, and said, “If you had warned me, I could have posed for you.”

“Your poses are terrible.” Cyrus’s tone was matter of fact, but a smile tugged at his lips, and Thomas grinned. Cyrus had no short supply of photos of Thomas and his many, many absurd poses. If he wasn’t fast enough, sometimes he’d get a pose whether he wanted it or not. “This photo might also be terrible,” he added, as he shook the small square of film the camera spat out.

Thomas crawled over, and Cyrus held up the picture as it became clear. The photo was, in fact, terrible. He had caught Thomas mid motion; one of his arms was entirely blurred, and the flash had caught on his glasses and bathed the entire scene in a stark light that made him look more like a cryptid than anything else. After a moment, he put a hand on Cyrus’s shoulder and looked into his eyes, voice and expression full of exaggerated pity, as he said, “Oh, Cyrus. You poor, naive soul… I don’t know who got that for you, but didn’t you know instant cameras are outdated? You may as well throw that old hunk of junk away.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Cyrus stood up. “What was I thinking? It’s a good thing we’re next to this giant landfill. The guy who gave it to me was an asshole anyway. Did you know he collected records? Talk about behind on the times.” Shaking his head, he wound up for a throw, and Thomas could compose himself no longer.

Bursting out into laughter, he threw himself at Cyrus’s legs. “No!”

There was no resistance; Cyrus fell forward with a yelp, and Thomas was still giggling as he pulled himself up and readjusted his glasses. “Sorry… Are you okay?” When his question was only met with a groan, he scooted a little closer, and concern rose in his voice as he leaned in a little. “Cy? I’m sorry; I didn’t think that would be enough to knock you over. I really was trying to hold back. Are you okay?”

Still face down in the blanket, Cyrus reached up, slowly, and shoved Thomas’s face away from him. “You’re a dick.” He pulled himself back up into a sitting position. “But yeah, I’m okay.”

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

Panic flirted across Cyrus’s expression, however, when he remembered the camera; his gaze darted about the blanket, and he snatched it up to examine it closely.

“Shit, is it alright?”

“Yeah, I think so. Good, because if you broke it, you would need to buy me another one.”

“I know.” Thomas still sounded a little abashed.

“…I wasn’t going to actually throw it.”

“I know. I was just playing. Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey. Don’t worry about it.”

Thus certain he was forgiven, he perked back up, his easy smile returning. “Okay.” He moved back toward the telescope, looked through the lens, then started to fuss with the device as he said, “The radiant point for this shower is Lyra the harp, where Vega is. Do you think you could help me find it? You’re better at this than me.”

“Sure.” Cyrus flopped back onto the blanket. He had become intimately familiar with the shape of the sky in his youth, spending many hours in hospitals staring up at the twinkling lights, a book of legends and constellations in his lap. Vega was easy to find, relatively. It was a brilliant star that hung directly above the land below, and though Lyra was a small constellation, other, larger constellations bordered it. The Corona Borealis, Hercules, Draco, Cygnus… There were more stars visible here which muddied the sky, but nevertheless, one by one, he picked the constellations out from the mass.

Thomas threw himself down beside him. “Did you find it? Have you seen any meteors yet?”

“None yet. It’s there.” Cyrus pointed. “The bright one, with the four other stars beside it.”

“I think I see it.”

“When do the meteors come?”

“They’re falling now, actually. At the height of the shower, they fall at one or two a minute. They can appear anywhere in the sky, but most are supposed to come from Lyra.” He smiled, a wry touch of amusement coloring his voice. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised you brought your camera–one of them, anyway–but there’s no way you’ll be able to catch a picture of any meteors.”

“It would be a waste of film to try,” he agreed. “But I wanted to be prepared.”

“You only bring the instant out for special occasions.”

“My first meteor shower is a special occasion. Besides, these look nicer on my wall.”

Chuckling lightly, Thomas relented. “Alright.” After a moment, though, he gasped and nudged Cyrus’s arm. “I saw one! Did you see that? It was over there!”

“Yeah! I did.”

“Your first shooting star, hm..? Did you make a wish?”

“Of course.”

“Okay; don’t tell me.”

“I won’t.” Cyrus paused briefly, then said, “Thomas?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for taking me out here.”

“It’s my pleasure. Honest.”

[fandomgirl2170]

Rocky and Bullwinkle, Cow and Chicken

 Fandom: Supernatural

 Pairing(s): Castiel x OC x Dean (Undecided), Sam x OC, Gabriel x OC

 Rating: T

 Warnings: Threats, Ghost slaying, Pyromania, Cursing

Summary: Three sisters meet Team Free Will, plus Gabriel, and they team up together, to take down a house full of dangerous, angry, very pissed ghosts. One’s got a smart mouth, one’s resourceful, and one’s just on the edge of sanity at times. Just once, can things stay normal? Well... We’re about to see. 

“Listen here Rocky,” The girl steps forward, her blue eyes narrowed as she points a finger in the older Winchester’s face, causing Dean to pointedly stare down it with his eyes crossed. “I don’t have time to chase after you and Bullwinkle, and your pals Cow and Chicken, ” Dean gives her a thoroughly confused look, glancing over at Sam, who shrugs. “I actually have a job to do. As a hunter, you should know that jobs are an important source of KEEPING THE WORLD ALIVE!” She barks.

“I’m sorry, Cow and Chicken? Rocky and Bullwinkle? How old are you?” He’s sure she’s too young for these shows.

“It doesn’t matter how old I am, Squirrel. Stay out of mine and my sisters’ way, or I will slay your ass.” She answers, snatching up her shotgun and spare shells full of rock salt, racing out of the room of the rickety old house. ______________________________________________________________

“Damn it, Rocky, what did I say!?” I scream at the shorter, green eyed man as I lean over his injured arm, tying a bandage around the gushing wound. “My sisters were better at listening when they were six!”

“Hey princess, you’re the one who honed in on OUR hunt!” He snaps.

“Actually,” Ezra speaks up. “we were in town before you guys, according to Sam.”

“Ez, don’t go making friends. We’re on our own, you know that.” I bite my lip as I hear Holly cackling down the hall. Lifting my head, I peek at the quiet man in the corner of the barricaded room, he’s in a trench coat, his hands shoved deep into the pockets, his brunette locks are messy, and his bright blue eyes are focused on me, his head tilted. “Alright, you will live.” I state as I press my hands to my thighs, and push up into a standing position, leaving the man below to lean against the wall.

“Such a shame that you have a mouth on you, cause you’re really kinda cute.” He states causing me to grit my teeth, rolling my aquamarine eyes, kicking him in the knee as I step over him, dropping into a chair with my shotgun in hand, waiting.

“Well, that was fun!” Holly chirps, walking in with the stranger’s last companion following, he has blonde hair, and a smug face, she grins at him. “Too bad that isn’t the guy we were looking for. We’re still stuck here until sunrise.” She says as Ezra draws a ward in front of the door.

“So, there is more than one ghost in this freaky old, run down house?” Ezra states. “Yup.” Holly nods.

“Great, just fantastic.” I groan. “Good thing I don’t have a graveyard shift at the hospital tonig- oh wait! I do.” I scowl at Holly.

“Hey, I thought we had a system, why are you scowling at me?! Ezra finds the haunts, I just use my diplomatic relations to keep us out of jail, and you fix up the victims, aka us, Doc.” She quips.

“Wait, you guys have actual jobs?” Sam, aka Bullwinkle, asks in confusion.

“Well…” Ezra pauses.

“I’m a Doctor, Holly’s FBI, Ezra’s a Vet, she also twilight's as the town librarian.” I answer shortly, the man on the floor goes to speak, when a pounding on the door causes us to jump, I point my gun at the buckling door, it smashes in, and the wood splinters across the room. I flinch at the large, sharp, splinter that comes flying at me, the air suddenly rushes at me as something makes impact from my left, only to blink rapidly at the trench coat wearing man, who is suddenly above me, causing me to realize that he knocked me out of the pathway. “Uh, thanks.” I say, looking up into his bluer than the bluest blue to ever blue eyes, he flashes me a grin, jumping up as he yanks me to my feel- a seriously pissed off ghost is seething from his place behind the salt line, pulling the safety off, I line my shot, and blast the ghost through the head.

“Time to move.” Dean states.

“No, Rocky- time to fight!” I snap as I reload my gun with shells.

“Hey, Naomi?" I turn back to look at Ezra.

"Take it easy on the power level this time." My sisters say in unison.

"One time!" I bark back.

"Power level?" Dean and Sam ask in unison.

"Naomi's a witch." Holly supplies, as an explanation.

"Wicca! Witches as practitioners of DARK magic- Wicca's use light magic, they worship the God and Goddess, and nature around them- they use nature to amplify their spells." I argue, brushing a hand through my scarlet red locks, my aquamarine eyes on the others. “Now, we move!” I bark, cause the others to burst out of the room, I bring up the tail end as we race for the basement, whirling around as a scream comes behind me, I blast another ghost, turning to race down the stairs, pulling the door shut with my foot as Ezra steps up with a permanent marker, warding the door across the white paint, before we rush down the stairs once more.

“Anyone got any bright ideas?” Sam asks, causing me to bite my bottom lip in thought.

“Salt every floor, torch the entire place?” I offer, causing Holly to look at me, aghast.

“This place is a city treasure!” Holly protests.

“City treasure, saving the towns fucking lives?” I shift my hands like a balancing scale, before she sighs, rolling her eyes as I look at the boys. “Yo, Rocky and Bullwinkle, how much salt ya got?” I ask.

“Pounds.” Dean answers.

“Good, we’re gonna need it all.” I state, causing his eyes to widen.

“Come again?” He asks

“All of the salt.” I state, slowly as though talking to a preschooler. “Our’s too.” I turn to Ezra. “Why don’t you and Bullwinkle go out, and get the salt?” I ask, she nods, pulling a serrated knife out of her boot, drawing a modified pistol from her belt, it’s filled with salt rock shots. “Holly, you and Cow will pour the salt.” The blonde guy grimaces at me. “I’ll stay with Rocky and Chicken, we’ll draw the ghosts attention, keep them off you all.” I state.

“Call us by our names!” Dean barks.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I ask, giving a wide beam, before I toss Holly a book of matches from my back pocket. “As soon as you lay the salt, light it up, we’ll all meet on the lawn in ten minutes.”

“Who died and made you boss?” Dean demands.

“Dean, it would be wise to listen to her. The Kasakabe’s know what they are doing, more so than you and your brother.” The trench coat man speaks up.

“Man, shut up Castiel.” But Dean begrudgingly walks over to me, gun in hand, where we all split up, in less than five minutes, Holly, Ezra, and I are leaning against the side on my midnight blue 64 and a half, 3 speed on the floor, mustang, while Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Gabriel are by Dean’s impala, all of us watching the building burn down in flames.

“Think it’s beyond saving yet?” Ezra asks.

“Yeah.” I answer, shoving my hands into the pockets of my leather. “Holly, call it in, before it spreads. Rocky, you all better take off, but the fire department gets here.” I state, causing him to look at me, along side Castiel. “Don’t need you going to jail for that Skinwalker’s crimes, do we?” I state, causing his green eyes to widen. “Until next time.” I dismiss them, climbing into the driver’s side as I wait, leaning back in my seat as Ezra climbs into the passenger seat, Holly closes her phone, climbing into the back as I start the car, Journey pours out of the windows as we take off down the road, the sun is just finally starting to rise, as we leave the smoking house, and the other hunts and their friends behind.

This isn’t going to be goodbye, we’re definitely gonna be seeing them again.

[mrdonaldclark86]

Fast-Forward ROI from New Agents with Better Training

Buckle up, Rocky (Cue ‘Eye of the Tiger’). It’s time to talk training.

It may not be as glamorous as the fanfare that comes after it, but it’s essential for success nonetheless. The truth is, the top agents and teams in the US have one thing in common – they never stop training.

Good training will help your team…

Avoid costly errors

Increase productivity, motivation and morale

Build loyalty and self-efficacy

Require less supervision from leadership

Facilitate growth and out-of-box thinking

Show me the $

When an agent joins your team, there is an inherent learning curve that they need to conquer before they close their first deal and become a profitable addition to your business. It may be tempting to forgo time-intensive training so they can hit the ground running in the field, but if you skip those steps you may ultimately elongate that window.

It can take months for agents to close a deal once they’ve joined your team. With more intensive and strategic training from the get-go, you can hopefully shorten this time frame.

We’ll break training down into 2 main categories; Initial Onboarding and Continual Refinement. Both are critical, and we’ll tell you why.

Initial Onboarding

This phase of training is everything your agent will learn as soon as they join your team. From mastering the systems that you use to aligning with your business goals – initial onboarding will lay the foundation for their future performance.

Thorough Systems Training

This is the big one. Are you all ears? Whatever technology you are using within your business, whether it be a CRM, a piecemeal lead generation software, or transaction management tool, your agents need to know how to use it effectively. Technology is an investment, and a critical one in order to be competitive in real estate today. If you have low adoption from your agents, there is a problem. Don’t ignore it, because you’re losing potential ROI.

Capitalize on what your software company offers. At BoomTown, we offer deeply immersive onsite and offsite onboarding for agents and teams. After the initial onboarding, we have a team of experts dedicated to different areas of client success. Training is ongoing, because technology is always improving.

As a leader, part of the training liability falls on your shoulders. To speed-up your ROI from a new agent, you should:

1. Put them through every training opportunity that the technology company offers 2. Have an accountability system in place to make sure your agents are properly utilizing the technology 3. Hold regular team meetings/check-ins to discuss questions and concerns as well as any new features or updates from your technology

It may seem counterintuitive to allot this much time to training. We get it, time is money. Think of it like putting together Ikea furniture. You could skip the manual and spend 2 hours putting it together blind…or spend 10 minutes reading the manual and knock it out in half an hour.

Internal Operations

If you spend the proper amount of time training your new agent from the start on internal ops, you’ll avoid countless interruptions down the road. This means all things “day-to-day.” However you run your team, be clear about protocol, and give your new agent a thorough rundown of every detail. If your team is expanding and you think you’ll hire more agents in the future, it might be worthwhile to create a training manual.

Align with Business Goals and Mission Statement

Most of this should be taken care of through the interview process if your agent has been properly vetted, and you’ve selected high quality talent. It’s important to align your team with one another and with the business as a whole. Craft a mission statement and be clear about what your goals are as a team.

Continual Refinement

Having ongoing training practices in place will not only keep agent performance on par, it will also allow for a seamless transition for new agents. If training is a part of your company culture, when you add a new agent to the mix, they’ll fall into a rhythm much more quickly.

Stay Current

Like any industry, real estate is always in flux. Over the past decade we’ve seen a major shift in real estate with the boom of the team structure. With a market that is adjusting, growing, and trending in different ways, agents have to stay ahead of the curve in order to be successful.

Keep tabs on market trends and industry reports, sign up for newsletters and blogs, watch webinars, and attend seminars and conferences.

Update Your Marketing Strategy

If there is one thing technology is not, it’s static. Best practices for generating quality leads through digital sources are constantly shifting. Stay in the tech loop and keep up with your search engine marketing strategy. If you are using a CRM with a digital marketing team in place, communicate with them to make sure your strategy is getting you the ROI you want.

Refine Sales Skills

Agents need to keep their sales techniques current. Are you sensing a pattern here? Training will be valuable throughout your entire career. Whether you have brand new agents that need intensive basic sales training, or veteran agents that need some help adapting to new trends – sales training is crucial. Consider implementing a mentor system, hiring a coach, or requiring your agents to attend annual trainings and conferences.

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