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newtonsheffield · 3 years ago

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Does and twist Anthony play football professionally after school? I can just imagine Anthony running around the pitch with Kates scrunchy on his wrist, it becoming kind of a good luck charm for him and everyone knows he won’t play without it

If you don’t mind could we maybe get a snippet of this? ❤️❤️❤️

I think ...and twist Anthony does play professional football after school, probably had a few offers, and ends up at West Ham maybe.

Kate's at University at King's college in London and they get a flat together, and just start their life together, but the fact that the break out new striker for West Ham runs out onto the pitch every game with his long hair tied back in a neon coloured scrunchie doesn't escape notice for long

Kate had always been a little obsessed with Anthony's hair. Even when she'd first realised that the feelings she'd had for Anthony hadn't actually been annoyance. When they'd been fourteen and his hair had fallen wildly into his eyes, she'd wondered what it would be like to run her hands through it, in a largely innocent way. And then he'd come back from holidays before lower sixth form, and she'd had to bite back a fucking hell.

Anthony had shaved the sides of his head, close, so you could barely see the stubble, the top long, tied back in a neat little knot on the top of his head, he'd pierced the cartilage of his ear, a tiny gold ring glinting in the light, and she couldn't stop thinking about it. About the way his hair would tickle her face as he lay over her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as their hips would grind together and she hated herself. But by the time they came back for upper sixth, she'd given up hating herself and given in.

His hair was longer now than it had ever been, and his earring joined by a nose ring and a floral tattoo shone in the sun as he sprinted around the football field, the crowd cheering his name and she just... gave in. She liked him, and if he'd given her any indication that he liked her too, she would have let him tug on her hand and followed him anywhere, and finally he did.

They hadn't been dating long, just days, the first time she asked. He'd let his hair down from the topknot, just like he did every day as he slid into his car, his siblings squashed in the backseat so he could hold her hand in the front seat before he dropped them off, and he drove back to her house and they fell back on his mattress, his hair around him like a halo as he settled between her thighs, her name falling from his lips while she marked his skin with her teeth, her tongue trailing along, writing her name on his collarbone.

He always held her so close in the moments after, his body covering hers like a blanket, arm tight around her waist his hair curling against hers, his heartbeat thundering against her, his smile soft as he kissed her cheek, her hand tangled in his hair.

"You're so pretty." He hummed, nuzzling a bit closer, his smile dopey and satisfied, lips ghosting over her neck, his hips bucking lightly against her.

Kate chuckled, curling her fingers in the soft locks, "You're so cute when you're trying to ask me if you can finger me again. Yes by the way."

Anthony groaned, claiming her lips, tongue slipping over hers, his voice breathless when he pulled back. "In my defence, when you came, my hair fell in my eyes and I barely even got to see it."

Her laughter had bubbled in her chest her hands pushing against his, forcing him back from her, darting around him, so she was at his back, hands on his shoulders, her lips at his ear.

"I can fix that, baby."

He'd sat stiller than a statue, while she'd threaded her hands in his hair, the silky strands slipping through her fingers, braiding it back against his scalp, tying it off with a scrunchie, neon green, taken from her bedside table.

"Done." She kissed the top of his head, chuckling as his fingers explored it curiously, a gasp from his chest as he spun towards her mirror,

"I fucking love this! I look like a viking! Fuck! Yes!"

His lips finding hers as he tugged her onto his lap, his hand trailing up her thigh, his hips grinding, letting her feel him, feel the way she'd stripped him down to his boxers, so she could feel as close as possible.

And this time, when she fell apart for him, Anthony's eyes burned into hers, grinning in triumph.

The next time, Anthony asked for it.

"Hey um, Kate, honey, sweetheart, babe?" Anthony dropped into the seat beside her at lunch, nudging her textbook away from her, dropping a tray overflowing with food there instead. "Eat."

Kate rolled her eyes, kissing his cheek softly, ignored the slightly smug grin on his face. "Yes Anthony, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You aren't eating." he nudged the tray closer towards her, "Mary will think I'm not looking after you."

"Mary packed me a sandwich, which I already ate." She hummed, picking at his fries as she nudged the tray back towards him.

He scowled, "You're um, you're coming to my game later right? After school?"

Kate had nodded, "Course I am."

A slightly relieved smile had crossed his face, "Cool. Um, you know that thing you did for me the other day? Do you think you could do that like... before the game?"

Laughter had burst free from her again, "You're cute but I'm not giving you a hand job on the sidelines."

His entire body had gone beetroot red his mouth falling open, "I wanted you to braid my hair!"

So there she'd sat, on the sidelines of his game, slowly threading his hair into braids, the curious stares of his teammates and the other team on them as she pulled the pink scrunchie from her wrist, knotting it around his hair.

Anthony's smile proud as he stood, leaning down to kiss her soundly.

"Bridgerton, what the fuck have you done to your hair?" Johnstone had called out, more than a little disgusted.

"Chris mate, it's not my fault your girl doesn't give a fuck about you, my girl's the best though!" Anthony had crowed, kissing Kate's cheek again, and it had burned in her chest for weeks.

And he'd worn her scrunchie the day he trialled for West Ham.

And he was wearing it the day he signed his contract. And the day of his very first match, she sat on their sofa, in their flat in London, and hummed while she braided the strands of his hair together, while his leg jiggled nervously.

"You're gonna be great, Anthony." She'd hummed, his hands tight on her legs, kissing the top of his head just like always when she finished . tying her scrunchie in his hair. "And I'll be with you the whole time."

She touched the tiny gold K, hanging around his neck on a chain the memory flashing through her mind of the first time she'd seen it, dangling just centimetres from her as he moved over her his grin lopsided when She'd said Wait, What's that?!

"Well I belong to you don't I?"

And she couldn't help but grin as she sat in the stands, Anthony's parents on either side of her watching him dart around the field, his very first goal scored, with a neon pink scrunchie glaringly obvious all the way in the stands.

_________________

"And Bridgerton's just hit the pitch, He's wearing bright blue today folks, not a favourite colour of his, he most have lost the pink one." The commentators hummed over the loud speaker making Kate chuckle, the new ring on her left hand burning against her skin.

"For those of you new to supporting West Ham, Or if you've been living under a rock, and you don't know who Bridgerton is, He's the man running around with his hair braided, held back by a scrunchie. His girlfriend Kate- Yeah there she is!-" - they said as the camera focused on her in the player's box. "-does it for him every game. Aren't they sweet?"

The crowd cheered, catching Anthony's attention, turning his face up towards her, grinning,

"High School sweethearts, AND! Bridgerton announced about 30 minutes ago via instagram; They're getting married folks!"

And Kate's heart thundered in her chest for the millionth time as Anthony blew her a kiss from the crowd.

#and twist #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly's asks and answers

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souichioneshots · 3 years ago

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Souichi x Reader 【Gloves】

Started the date one shot collection thingy

Here is the first addition to the collection

Thought of and wrote it in an hour, so I apologize if it feels OOC or boring or whatever

I especially apologize for any misspells

But other than that, please enjoy!!

The summer heat of Fukazawa could really be killer sometimes. People would line up for hours to buy shaved ice, and the public pools would be filled to the brim with people from all over town. It was days as hot as today that Souichi wished he could just make everything freeze over. But, then again, it was thanks to days like these that Souichi could experience a different kind of fun.

A small bell chimed as you opened the large heavy-looking door, allowing Souichi to walk into the building first. As you walked up to the ticket counter, an elderly lady greeted you.

“2 for public skating, please.” You said in a voice loud enough for her to hear. “That’ll be 4,000 yen.”

Just before Souichi could take out his wallet to pay for his half, you waved your hand at him and insisted that he didn’t need to pay. “You can pay for the hot chocolate instead.” You assured him with a smile.

After receiving your tickets, the door to the area buzzed loudly, finally allowing the two of you to enter the ice skating arena.

Souichi let out a small hum as cold air engulfed him. It was like you two had stepped into a completely different part of the world.

The inside area was separated into 3 sections. The food court, the private rink, and the public rink. The food court was empty, except for a couple of kids playing on some old-styled claw-machine games set up on the side. The private rink was extremely well lit and filled with a couple of pro-looking skaters twirling and jumping around in the air. As for the public rink…

“Looks like we got here at a good time!” You said in an excited voice. Even though it was the weekend, there were barely any people. What sounded like pop music played at a moderate volume, and the lights had been dimmed quite a bit. Souichi wasn’t exactly expecting to be alone with you on the ice, but he was sure there would be way more people than there were now. A feeling of nervousness arose within him as he realized that he couldn’t use the excuse of there being too many people to explain why he wouldn’t be able to skate so smoothly.

Turning the corner, you made your way to the skate-rental area. ]

“Shoe size?” The staff member asked looking at Souichi. “２✖cm.” “And you miss?” “２✖ and a half, please.”

After receiving your skates, you made your way to the benches that were set up nearby.

Souichi kicked off his shoes and placed his feet inside the hard-plastic skates. The shoes let out a loud clicking sound as he adjusted their tightness. When you both finished, you wobble-walked to the lockers nearby and put your stuff inside. Wrapping the key-band around his wrist, Souichi made his way to the ice with you.

“Gloves?” A large man standing near the only visible entrance put his foot out and blocked you both from walking any further.

After stating that you had none, he explained that it was arena policy to wear them while skating. Pointing you to the nearest gift shop, he asked you both to buy a pair and then come back.

You let out a sigh of annoyance as you walked back to the locker area. Unlocking the locker, Souichi got some money from his locker. “We should have just sliced his leg off.” Kicking your foot in the air, you spoke. “I bet we could have done it if we kick hard enough. Hehehe.” Souichi laughed through his nose. He loved when you made dark jokes like that.

Walking into the skate gift shop, his eyes scanned the area, ignoring the dozens of sparkly outfits that hung from the ceiling. When he found the glove section, he carefully walked towards it and searched for a color and design that he might like. However, there weren’t many options for him to choose from. It was either sparkly pink, neon green, or 2000 yen professional gloves. Shifting through the different gloves, he finally found a pair of his liking all the way in the back. Carefully taking it off the rack, he slipped one glove over his hand to make sure it was the right size.

“Oh~ Those are nice.” You said, admiring the grey glove on Souichi’s hand. “But how about these? They’d really make you stand out on the ice.” You said with a smile as you held out a pair of neon green gloves for Souichi to wear. “No way. Those are disgusting.” Souichi immediately responded. “Ah…Yeah. Haha. True…Mmm...” You said, trying to make what you had previously said seem like a joke.

It wasn’t until Souichi finished paying for the cheap gloves that he realized what you had been trying to do. Walking back towards the rink, he watched you put the neon gloves on your own hands. You rubbed your thumb over them, an expression of embarrassment plastered across your face.

Before Souichi could say anything, you looked up at him with a new smile. “Ready to skate?” Souichi nodded his head as he rushed to put his own gloves on. He’ll fix this little problem later…

The man who guarded the entrance to the rink gave you both a smile as you waved your hands in the air, showing off your new gloves.

Putting his foot on the ice, Souichi immediately held onto the barrier of the rink. This was nothing like roller-skating. The ice was way too slick, and the blades under his feet wouldn’t stop sliding to the slides. Souichi bit down on the nails in his mouth as he struggled to keep his balance.

“Everything okay?” You asked as you casually glided next to him. “Yeah. Just uhh… Familiarizing myself with the rink.” He said, leaning against the barrier. “Hmm~” You hummed as you stopped and stood close next to the raven-haired boy.

Feeling nervous by the sudden change in atmosphere, Souichi pushed off and tried to skate forward. He kept one hand on the barrier as you two skated side by side. He was slow. He could tell by the way you would skate slightly further than him and then slow down to be by his side again, that he was holding you back.

He wanted to tell you to go skate freely. That he wouldn’t mind just watching you skate from afar. God knows that would have been easier for him. But, you had other plans.

Suddenly, you stopped, forcing Souichi grip onto the barrier tightly to stop as well.

Turning to look at him, you put your neon gloved hand out for him to grab. Souichi looked up at you with nervous eyes, unsure what you were planning. Taking a deep breath, he let go of the barrier and took your hand.

Souichi let out a sound of surprise as you pulled him towards you, your other hand reaching to take his free one into yours. His eyes moved from the floor, to you, to the moving surroundings as you skated backward, tugging him along the entire time. He never knew you could skate backward.

When you finally stopped, he realized where you were.

“The middle of the rink…” He whispered to himself, getting a small laugh out of you. It was much more spacious than the sidelines, and the ice beneath his skates felt somewhat different. Smoother and untouched by other blades. Although it was cool, it was also quite terrifying at the same time. The middle of the rink was known to be territory only experienced skaters and staff members could use. Yet, there you two were.

“What would you do if I just left you here?” You said with a wicked laugh. “Eh?” Souichi looked up at you with shocked eyes. You wouldn’t. “I mean, it’s not like you can chase after me. Perhaps you can crawl after me though~” You teased, letting your grip on his hand go weak. “Don’t even think about it.” Souichi said in a stern voice, tightening his grip around your hands.

You smiled at the raven-haired boy’s panicked expression. “I’m just kidding. I won’t let you go.” You extended your arms and started to skate backward again, pulling Souichi towards you. You laughed as the pale boy took actual footsteps on the ice.

“Careful!” A staff member who had been skating exclaimed as he glided right behind you. Souichi let out a small yelp as you suddenly stopped.

“You okay?” You asked, helping Souichi regain his balance. Souichi shook his head yes, looking down at his wobbly feet once before looking back at you.

His cheeks burned red as he realized how close he was to you. The grip he had on your hands tightened.

“Can…” He whispered, making you lean a bit more forward to hear him better. “Can we trade gloves?…” Your cheeks burned red at his sudden utterance. “I thought you didn’t like these gloves?” You asked with a nervous laugh. Souichi didn’t respond. He did think it was an ugly color, but it was the color you had chosen for him.

Slightly pulling him closer, you guided Souichi’s hands to hold onto your shoulders. “How about we trade one glove?” You suggested, taking the glove off your dominant hand. When you finished, you put your hands on his shoulders, allowing him to do the same. Souichi smiled as he looked down at his now mismatched gloves.

Holding tightly onto each other’s hands again, you started to skate. Souichi listened with a smile as you gave him advice on how he could skate a bit better. But ultimately, he just wanted to keep holding onto you, even if it meant making a fool of himself.

Finally making it to the other end of the rink, you slowed your pace down and guided Souichi to take ahold of the barrier.

Souichi leaned on one arm as he tried to keep his balance.

“So…Do you want to get some hot chocolate now?” You asked.

Looking down at his free hand, Souichi saw that you two had yet to let go of one another completely.

Pushing himself off the barrier once more, he quickly moved to grab your other hand. “How about we skate in the middle one more time first?”

#souichi x reader #souichi tsujii #souichi tsujii self insert #souichi tsujii x reader #fluff

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apr1cots · 3 years ago

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bookshop babies

MY VERY LATE FIC for the most lovely @orange-peony

idek what happened here but i miss going to bookshops and i miss my boys.

ty to my loves @moonstruckwytch @phoebedelia and @starlitsilvereyes for helping me always and listening to me whine you complete me

ok what gives here we go....

it was a tuesday when harry realized he was in love. he was sitting in a coffee shop he’d never been to before. he could only assume that the wallpaper had been cheery once, but it peeled a bit at the edges, and a tear poorly hidden behind a photograph of john lennon revealed the greying drywall beneath. he was six chapters into some fantasy novel draco had given him the day before when a bookmark fell out from page 217. with a sigh edging too close to overdramatic, he set down the sipping caramel that the barista had chosen for him when he’d asked for something extra sweet, and reached for the floor without looking. consequently, he bumped his temple directly against the corner of the table and swore out loud.

one side of the neon green bookmark advertised an upcoming book exchange in the east village. the back had a note written in draco’s signature scrawl underlined three times.

potter, if you spill even a drop of coffee or whatever concoction you force one of those damned baristas to create on a single page of this book i will make absolutely certain that you never read another word again!

harry laughed and then blushed and realized he was done for.

he took his time walking to the bookshop, relishing in the anonymity of muggle london and staring into the windows of cafes he had yet to visit. the bell above the weathered blue door jingled when harry stepped inside and draco looked up from where he was reading at the counter. he’d just cut his hair, (merlin, harry, muggles have to do this so often i’m in the shop every two weeks, i never knew!) and the sides were shaved close to his head, the top all long and soft and begging harry to run a hand through it.

their eyes met. draco fought a smile but harry laughed before either of them could say anything.

“you like this one then?”

“yeah, it’s wicked.”

he didn’t say anything else, instead settling into an armchair in his favorite corner, valiantly trying not to look up from his book to where he knew draco was sitting. a few customers came in and harry used draco’s distraction to watch unnoticed until draco caught his eye as the pretty girl in the sweater ducked her head to dig through her bag.

harry hoped draco couldn't see his blush from across the room and stared intently at the same paragraph for at least three minutes.

later, when the afternoon sun was just moments away from casting blinding, golden light in through the window near the door, draco asked harry to fetch him a spare copy of the latest gaiman novel from a high shelf. harry summoned it wandlessly without looking.

“potter! what’s wrong with you?” draco hissed, eyes ablaze with a malice harry hated inciting.

“draco, relax. we are the only people in here. no one is hiding ‘round the cookbooks, i checked,” harry smirked cheekily, but it didn’t have the desired effect.

“you are NOT to do magic here, i mean it. i… i really don’t want that to be part of my life here.”

he read between the lines of draco’s pleas and heard the desperation. draco wanted his place here, in this shop, on this street, in muggle london, to be apart. he wanted it to mean something even if it wasn’t what he had always imagined. harry longed to reach out and touch the worry pinching draco’s face.

instead, harry handed him the book.

“would you like to come ‘round for dinner?”

hermione and ron came as the sun set and after they had eaten, they all sat around the fire. harry watched the easy way that hermione sat on the floor in front of ron’s armchair, leaning into his legs while mouthing the words to the book she was reading. she tucked her hair behind her ears repeatedly as it fell onto the pages filled with tiny print and harry noticed that draco had sat all the way at the other end of the sofa. hermione said ron’s name and he passed her his drink without asking, hand hovering near her head to take it back after just a sip. draco watched the fire when harry caught his eye.

when they all said goodnight, hermione and ron stepped through the floo, and draco left out the front door just giving harry a little wave. harry went to bed alone.

a week later, draco sat in the park on a soft blue blanket that he had produced from a wicker basket, clinking the wine glasses against the bottle.

harry joined him, settling a bit awkwardly on the ground, hands full with two oily packets of steaming fish and chips and draco rolled his eyes.

“you live like a normal person, you can eat like one too,” harry quipped, bumping their shoulders together. it was an unusually warm day for the fall and draco had called harry on his mobile, insisting that they take advantage. harry told him no one else had been available to come, but truthfully, he hadn’t really asked.

draco wore black trousers and a crisp white shirt under a dark grey sweater that looked so soft it might just melt right off. harry wore jeans and a navy sweater that molly had knit him, the paw prints climbing from his right hip to his left shoulder charmed not to trace wandering paths across his torso.

the breeze played in the grass and the trees groaned with the anticipation of coming storms, but the sun cut through the clouds, warming harry’s face and tickling the white blond tips of draco’s hair. when harry rested his head by draco’s hip, close, but not touching, he noticed the subtlest of dark grey pinstripes on draco’s trousers. he smelled intoxicating and harry wanted to press his nose into draco’s thigh, but he picked up his book instead.

“i’m not interesting enough for you, is that it?”

“you’ve been staring at the clouds in silence for at least five minutes. i think you’ll survive. i’ve only got a chapter left. then i’m all yours.”

draco looked at him sharply, then away again.

three paragraphs later, draco’s hand brushed a curl off of his forehead, then began to play with his hair.

harry froze. he had to read the word “dichotomy” thirteen times before it registered in his brain. then he sped to finish the page he had been stuck on for far too long in an effort to avoid suspicion. draco was still looking ahead, not at harry, but now his perfect, pale, aristocratic wrist was right there and harry knew that that was where draco sprayed his cologne and he still smelled so absolutely divine that harry couldn’t be expected to function platonically, like a normal human being. he floundered for a moment, knowing that draco would ask him questions about the ending, so he couldn’t very well fake finishing, but deciding that it was too strange to just set down his book moments after defending his right to read.

before he could come to any sort of conclusion, draco looked down to find harry’s eyes on him and smiled so softly that harry had to sit up. draco's hand fell away then and harry kissed him without a word.

there, on that pretty blue blanket, on that sunny fall day, harry’s heart pounded harder than it had in the forest on the most fateful of days. and when draco pulled away to blink his long eyelashes right against harry’s neck, harry grinned, not caring who was watching.

the following tuesday harry carefully avoided familiar cracks in the sidewalk, walking to the bookshop. he’d finished yet another book, though he didn’t really need an excuse to see draco anymore.

draco was busy at the counter. harry fell back against the door as he closed it, watching without hiding. he moved out of the way when draco was finished, walking behind the counter and hopping up to sit in front of draco.

“hi.”

“hello.”

they just stared at one another for a moment, the softest of silences buzzing between them. then draco touched harry’s thigh, still marveling just a bit that he was allowed and they kissed.

“do you have a new recommendation for me?”

“what?”

“i finished my book.”

“oh. oh, yes i actually- here,” he pulled out a book he’d placed under the counter and blushed.

“you set this aside?”

draco shrugged, smiled, and ducked his head. “for you, yes.”

a year later on a saturday in september, draco promised never to run out of recommendations and harry promised to read every single one. harry admitted that the first time he’d entered the bookshop had been an accident and draco laughed and told him he’d known. everyone left with a book in hand and when harry and draco got home they added a new book to the table beside their bed- their story.

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #books books books #im so sorry this is so late #i just want my babies to fall in love and get married over and over again

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parjiljehavey · 4 years ago

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this isn’t where we intended to be

A/N: Because we don’t know the details of how Boba survived the Sarlacc, I hand waved it. Am I shamelessly blending Legends into this? Yep. Don’t stop me now, I’m having a good time!

I also forgot to mentioned that the titles are lyrics from You Must Love Me. Madonna or Lana Del Rey, both are valid and full of feels.

Tagging: @escapedthesarlacc, @silverfish-kingdom, @shadowfoxey, @fresa-luna

Rating: T for Teen

Content Warnings: Angst, Bad Spy/Military jargon and descriptions, Boba Is Pining, We got some Surprise Appearances at the end.

PREVIOUS // NEXT

ix.

The first thing the Imperials did after setting up their garrison was confiscate any weapons. They searched house by house, apartment by apartment. The only things they didn’t take were the kitchen knives. You were lucky enough that the panic room Boba built was hidden from almost every scanner imaginable, leaving the armory Boba had on this world unseized.

Jekiah had chosen then to wail his little heart out from the bedroom, announcing his anger that his noon meal was being delayed to all who could hear. It took everything in you to not laugh when the stormtroopers and the scrawny little officer with them flinched.

There was a diner around the corner from the apartment that you had started frequenting because you had became obsessed with their milkshakes during your pregnancy. The twi’lek that owned it was an older woman with long lekku she draped around her neck who carried herself in a way that you recognized.

It was Sinya’s diner that the locals gathered in afterhours to discuss the Imperial occupation a month after the weapons has been taken. The blinds were shut, casting the room in near darkness except for the dim green glow of the menu signs.

Jekiah was strapped to your chest, content to sleep against your breast while voices rose when someone in the diner proposed fighting back against the Empire. A raucous arose as all attending agreed.

Sinya spoke up, “We’ll need to run reconnaissance to get a better idea of their numbers and the heat they’re packing.”

You should have kept your mouth shut and your head down, if only for Jekiah’s sake. It’s what Boba would have wanted you to do; with few exceptions, when did you ever do what Boba wanted?

“I can take care of that.” Heads turned and the crowd parted to stare at you, a woman with her baby. Sinya looked at you, and you looked at her. A tattooed brow was raised.

“You sure?” She gestured to Jekiah.

You looked down at your son, rubbing your thumb over his dark downy hair. He nestled his face further against your breast, seeking out your heartbeat.

“Yes. I am.”

He had woken up with the gritty taste of sand in his mouth, his skin burning and itching, and his armor missing. Shab’la Jawas.

It was the Sand People, who had ultimately rescued him and tended to the wounds he’d gained from the Sarlacc. He wasn’t able to translate what they were saying without his buy’ce, but he was able to communicate enough with them with the sign language that any hunter worth their spit learned when they spent enough time chasing targets through the sands of Tatooine.

He was given clothing and weapons once he was well enough to leave, and went on his way to begin the long trek back to Jabba’s palace. He had no doubt that anything that wasn’t nailed down had already been taken after news of the Hutt’s death had spread. Boba was confident that the Slave I was still where he had left it when he arrived.

Sure enough, the Firespray-31 was still there. Usually, he’d lower the ramp through his HUD, however, lacking his armor, Boba had to use the security code. It hadn’t changed in decades; he had it memorized. Accessing the security logs, Boba cursed.

It’d been five months since he left you heavily pregnant in his safehouse.

Fierfek.

xi.

A week after the meeting, you left Jekiah with your neighbor, two older women who had cooed over Jekiah ever since you’d come back from the medical center. Jekiah had learned how to cling to your shirt and had refused to let go, right up until a brightly colored nexu plush entered his field of vision. He’d been entranced with the neon pink toy and had let go easily after that.

The Zabrak grinned, “One of our nephew’s old toys. He won’t miss it.”

Returning to the apartment, you opened the panic room. Weapons lined the wall, far out of reach of a child and a case held your gear. The armorweave long coat and pants you had once worn regularly were a little too tight across your belly and hips, but thankfully, you still had mobility. You could handle this small discomfort; it was nothing compared to the later stages of your pregnancy and Jekiah’s birth.

You attached the stealth generator to your belt, making double sure it’d stay there with tape. Next went on your boots, and then your visor, followed by your gloves and gauntlets.

The gloves had been a gift from Boba; “They’d been outlawed in the Mandalore system for centuries,” he had said, “but I figured you’d appreciate these in your arsenal.”

Another gift had been the heavy, matte black gauntlets. The wristblade had utterly delighted you. You’d asked Boba what they were made of that made them so heavy. His answer had been beskar. It had taken you some time to learn how to fight with them on, something Boba had helped you with. You had ended up with more bruises than he had, some more pleasurable than others.

An ache in your chest came up and a lump formed in your throat. You swallowed around it and pushed on. You had a job to do.

You ran a systems’ check twice, ensuring that your vitals read correctly and the targeting system was accurately linked to your rifle. Happy with the results, you activated the stealth generator, and made your way out of the apartment building entirely. You kept to the shadows of alleyways and near cover.

Following a returning patrol, you infiltrated the Imperial garrison.

xii.

He’d elected to shave off the rest of his hair; most of it was already gone, the Sarlacc’s digestive acid killed the hair follicles. He inspected his wounds; no matter how primitive the Tuskens may be, they’d done a good job at patching him up. The wounds that were still healing he covered with a bacta-patch.

It had been a difficult decision, but, Boba had chosen to pursue his missing armor. He knew you’d understand why he didn’t immediately return; it was his father’s armor. You’d be furious with him, more than likely banish him from bed, but you’d understand.

It didn’t stop the guilt gnawing at his gut.

It didn’t stop him from waking up expecting to feel his arm asleep from you laying on it to curl against his chest or feel your cold feet pressed against his legs.

xiii.

Over the next two weeks, you infiltrated the garrison several more times gathering information on troop movements and supply routes. There was more than one garrison on the planet; as soon as news spread to the others, they’d be swarming like flies on a carcass. This was going to be a hard and dirty fight.

You said as much at the next meeting in Sinya’s.

“If we are going to do this, we're going to need more numbers than what we have.”

A large Nikto stepped forward. “Mercenaries? Lady, we ain’t got the money for that!”

Sinya was watching you from behind the counter. She nodded at you.

“Let me worry about the money. As soon as the mercenaries are planetside, start bringing the people from smaller towns and the farms inside.”

xiv.

Finding Sandcrawlers was easier from the air; it’d take months to traverse Tatooine on foot. He stopped in Mos Eisley, Mos Espa, and Anchorhead intermittently as he needed supplies and fuel. He picked up scrap metals to barter with the Jawas for information. This routine continued until a priority alert came across.

Liberation from Imperial Garrison. Boba’s stomach sunk.

There was no thinking as he plotted a course back to the planet. No other thought as the Slave I gained altitude.

Just you.

xv.

Sinya had had her pegged as a hunter as soon as she had first walked in months ago. She always looked around, noting exits and entries. Standard merc behavior, Sinya remembers doing that before she retired; Goddess, she still did it.

The bump on her belly made Sinya decide she wasn’t a threat. The delight she took in the milkshakes was endearing. Sinya had made sure that every time she saw her on the way in, a milkshake was already being blended. Especially when she started coming in with her baby boy strapped to her chest. That baby was the grumpiest little thing Sinya had ever seen.

It was nice, Sinya decided, once everyone had left after the woman had reported back on her findings and it was decided that they did need mercenaries, to talk shop with someone who knew their stuff. Sinya missed the merc life somedays.

Sinya listed off every large mercenary company that she knew was still in existence. Even Black Sun.

“No,” She shook her head. “If the Imperials offer more, they’d switch sides. Even if they didn’t, it’d be another battle to get them off. We’d be trading one for the other. That’s a risk we can’t afford. We need people who hate the Imperials just as much, if not more then we do.”

Sinya's tattooed brows furrowed. “Who are you thinking of?”

The woman smiled.

bonus

xvi.

He heard a low whistle from somewhere in the Oyu’baat when a priority alert popped up on the bounty board. The bartender fiddled with a control panel, enlarging the alert so it overtook other listings. It got Shysa’s attention, the Mand’alor dropping his feet off his table as he stood up. Noise died down until the only sound was the boloball game.

100,000 credits for every Mandalorian that signed up for the liberation of a small world out in the Outer Rim from the Empire. A 10,000 credit bonus was being offered for every piece of artillery that was brought in. Payment would be given from stocks, proprieties, or cold hard cash, per the contractor’s preference.

Osik. That was a lot of credits for a small world to be offering. He wondered where they were getting that kind of money. And it was specifically requesting Mandalorians.

Shysa clapped his hands together, drawing attention away from the board and to himself. He climbed up on top of his table looking out over the crowd of Mando’ade.

“Well, vode. Who wants to go kick the Imperials shebs again?”

Cheers of Oya rang out and Mird’ika howled as he pulled on his fine, gray gloves.

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x y/n #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #should i should the surprise?#SHOULD I #yeah i will #jaing skirata #fenn shysa #lord mirdalan #mird #mird'ika #republic commando #series: you must love me

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purplelurkinghini · 4 years ago

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Switching Gears

I promise I never planned on writing 3k+ words of Arkham Knight Riddler X AFAB!Reader fanfiction. He’s not even my favorite version of The Riddler, but he is the one that inspired this tall order of hurt/comfort, fluff and smut.

If you’re an adult and enjoy the idea of Edward Nigma being a switch as much as I do, check out what’s been collecting dust in my Notes for the past month under the cut!

"Boys, could you give us a moment?"

"Sure thing, boss," the hired knucklehead nodded towards you before even addressing his actual employer. "Hey, boss, think you can stand?"

"What are you implying, you meathead?"

The fact remains that it was these meatheads who caught him when he fell off the malfunctioning assembly line. He’d been a sleepwalker’s step away from being dismembered and reassembled into one of his riddlebots. It stung like salt sprinkled in his wounded pride, but he could ignore the sting.

What he couldn't ignore were his own men (he doesn't employ boys, thank you very much) taking orders from you. Who do you think you are talking over him? Nobody talks over Edward Nigma!

"I can stand just fine, thank you," he sneered even as he struggled to straighten himself. He was on his own two feet again and he'd be damned if he'd depend on anybody to walk on them. "Some privacy, please." It was him they should be following, not you. When they exited the restroom, it was his order they were following, not yours.

"When's the last time you ate?"

The man with all the answers was perplexed by your question. He knitted his brows closer, one of them even twitching as his eyes (more bloodshot red than brilliant blue) watched you approach him with no regard for the rage that was boiling just underneath his frown.

"Or slept? Or took a goddamn break?"

You bellowed and it bounced off of the tile walls to beat against his eardrums. Each step you took closer made each word ring louder. And, as if the volume of your voice alone knocked the wind out of him, he sunk back against the sink, holding himself up with one hand while the other rubbed at his temples.

"Could you talk any louder?" He grunted out, gathering his thoughts. Eating? Resting? Sleeping? None of those are on his schedule and they haven't been for a while now. Halloween was only weeks away. Everyone was expected to make sacrifices, but was he really ready to lay down his own life? He almost did just that tonight. He was at a loss for words, but he found enough of them to speak a full sentence: "I can’t hear myself think."

"Edward," he hardly heard you huff out his name. And, once he removed his grimy glove from over his eyes, he barely saw your face and how it contorted with concern. "You're tired."

A warm hand of yours on a cold cheek of his had him slumping his head forward in defeat. You were right, of course. He was tired. Beat. Drained. Bone-deep.

"I finally got the boiler running." You needed both hands to hold up his head, so you cupped his scruffy chin. "You're not getting into bed with me while smelling like an abandoned auto repair shop."

That should've stung like the dash of salt that it was. It was soothing instead, much like the circular motion of your thumbs against his sunken, unshaven cheeks. He could do little more than scoff. "I already bathed."

"Yeah, but that was before you took a tour of the sewer system," you smiled and he mirrored you, just as broken as the actual mirror behind him. You took his gloved hands into yours and he held onto them like his life depended on you. Given his sorry state, it was highly probable that it did. "Everything’s set up in the locker room. I bought new towels and everything."

"Green?" Edward learned to walk again as he followed you.

"How did you know?" You gladly guided him, never letting go of his hands.

"Just a guess."

•••

"Boss, the food's here! Where should I-"

The boss cut him off while almost cutting into the other boss' cheek: "In the office, please."

You were in the middle of shaving him and Edward must have been exhausted to trust anybody wielding a sharp object that close to his throat. And he was exhausted. Beat. Drained. Bone-deep. It was a good thing he had your bare legs wrapped around his waist (about as snug as the towel covering it) keeping him up on his feet.

He couldn't see through the walls, but his employee sounded embarrassed from behind the one he was hiding. "Sorry, boss and...boss. I didn't mean to-"

"Wallace, is that takeout?"

"Thank you, Wally! In the office, okay?" You shouted from atop the sink, running the straight razor under the tap."It's sushi from that place you like. There should be some orange juice and waffles in those bags, too."

"You sent him grocery shopping and he...went shopping for groceries?" He wrecked through the wrinkles in his brain for another answer, a less obvious one. "Why?" Playing the fool never put anyone in a flattering light and it sure didn't make The Riddler seem any smarter.

"They need to eat and so do we."

For once, he'd been asking the wrong questions. He had to work on rephrasing it as you worked some aftershave into his sore skin. "Why did you send my men to do your bidding?"

Not even your hands could massage the wrinkles out of his morose face. "Who else was I supposed to send?" You combed back his damp hair (you had to get under the makeshift shower to shampoo it yourself) with your blunt nails and looked down into his eyes. "There! Handsome again!"

Vanity and curiosity made up the cocktail that sloshed around in his stomach as he looked over your damp shoulder and into the steamed mirror. With one hand clearing it for view and the other still secured on your thigh, he scrutinized his sour expression. His eyes were encircled by dark rings where they laid inside his sunken sockets and his hair, slicked back and shiny, was turning grey just above his ears. He'd never admit it, not even to himself, but Edward Nigma has seen better days.

"I told you, didn't I?" You tore his attention away from himself by bringing the two of you that much closer together, your towel-covered chest pressed against his bare one. "The scruff had to go." You threw your arms around his neck, prompting his hand to return on your thigh. You breathed the words so close to his lips, it felt like you were feeding him air.

"You didn't cut me twice," he moved his lips against yours, but his own didn't catch. He moved his mouth again, this time to stretch it into a grin."I'm sure to recover from the one time that you did."

"Asshole," you huffed, as if you'd been holding your breath for a kiss. "Stop playing."

"You forget who you're talking to, boss," Edward enunciated the last word by squeezing your side. "You forget who's in charge."

"Wasn't it you?"

His smug smile was all but slapped off his face when you tightened your thighs around him. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as he was faced with a challenge: you. You were always a challenge.

There was more merriment than malice in his words, yet he still snarled them: "You shouldn't talk while on your high horse," There was more pride than playfulness in the act, yet he still slid both of his hands under your thighs and snatched you up. "You never know when it's going to throw you off."

"Edward," you shrieked, startled. "Put me down!" Securing your arms around his neck and squeezing your legs around his middle, you braced yourself to be bucked off your high horse. "You're gonna drop me! Put me down!"

There was something almost soothing to be found in your screams. The sound of your sudden surrender was better than the pity party you'd been throwing him. "When have I ever let you down?" It was a rhetorical question. He had been literally leaning on you just a shower ago. He was tired of feeling helpless, control slipping from his fidgeting fingers. He was tired of being held like some invalid, thoughts slipping his mind.

Yes, he was tired, so it was about time he retired. And, since his office was as good as any bedroom and the cot he'd build in the back could accommodate two, you were joining him.

"I think it was just an hour ago that you let yourself down."

"But not you." Edward was elated by the return of the roaring fire in your belly, and by the lingering looks of his men (yes, they were his) as he passed them. You had towels (and each other) to cover yourselves with, but that was enough to give them ideas. Ideas only he alone was allowed put into practice.

•••

The computer screen displayed the time in neon green. 4 AM was mere minutes away when he tossed you onto the cot's cold covers and collapsed on top. His head wanted nothing more than to be laid on a pillow, but his other head was restless. You ended up rolling a sleep-humping Edward off of you.

"And you called me a tease." He didn't have time to whine or wrestle you into submission. His stomach was doing both of those things to him.

"You're literally starving and so am I," you had to leave him and his makeshift bed in order to grab the takeout Wally had dropped off on the desk.

By the time you fed him his first sushi roll, it was 4 AM.

"This might just be the best meal I've had in weeks." He sucked the tips of each of your fingers clean after inhaling his last roll. "Remind me to talk to Crane about sparing the old and his business."

"The doctor owes you one." You returned the favor by licking the length of the two fingers offering the last spring roll to you. "He owes me one, too. If I hadn’t fished him out of the harbor-"

“He never would've gotten his first."

"It was mouth-to-mouth, Edward."

"It was the closest he ever got to being kissed," he laughed, but the bitter taste of it lingered for longer than he would've liked. He let his fingers linger against your sweet mouth, just to balance out the flavor. "He wanted to get closer still."

"What are you talking about?"

"He'd asked about you as soon as he could use his jaw again."

You grinned behind the digits you'd drooled all over. "Jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous-"

The digital watch on his wrist started beeping at 4:30 AM.

"What's that?"

"It's time to wake up."

"Wrong. It's bedtime." Then, like the tease that you are, you wrapped your hand around his wrist to turn off the alarm just as your lips wrapped around his middle finger. You sucked him into your mouth, all the way down your throat and up to his knuckle.

Once his hunger had been satiated, he could tame his tiredness. Edward felt like he had enough energy to play. And he wanted to play with you

"Your mouth is saying one thing," he tipped your chin up with his wet fingers for a closer look at your salacious smile. "And acting out another. Double-meanings and double-entendres. Is that a riddle of your own? You're adorable!"

He was pleased with the pout he made you put on. He even chuckled as he chased your mouth with his own. You were being quite childish by moving your head from side to side, but he's sure you'd say the same thing about him and his games.

"Don't patronize me," you spit fire at him, but he didn't even flinch. He was feeling up your scorching skin under his shirt's (he was wearing the matching pants) collar. The grip he had on your throat was weak, yet it knocked the air out of your lungs.

He'd finally caught your lips with his and you tasted as sweet as the victory you surrendered to him and as intoxicating as the sake you shared.

"Patronize you? I wouldn't dare," he followed you down once the back of your head hit the pillows. "Why, you'd swallow me whole before I opened my mouth."

"Maybe I will," you held onto his hand that lay resting instead of flexing around your neck.

So confident he was in his coercion of you, he took his hand along with your own off of your throat. He pushed the both of them against his clothed crotch and the burgeoning bulge it covered.

"Oh, I know you will, little sphinx."

Edward enjoyed the sound of surprise that almost slipped out if you, even as he suppressed it with a kiss. He enjoyed the feeling of your fingers on his erection even more. He should've expected his watch going off for the second time and you immediately taking advantage of the distraction it provided. He didn't anticipate either.

He huffed as he was pushed off of you and back into the pillows "Did you press the snooze instead on the off button on purpose?"

It was your turn to tease again, so you didn't hold back. Pressing your palms against his bare and breathless chest, you picked at the scabs of his wounded pride. "You're the Riddler. You figure it out." You didn't give him enough time to figure it out, however. You went straight to straddling his hips and squeezing your thighs around them.

His old pajama pants weren't enough to protect his crotch from being set on fire. With no bottoms getting in its way (you were wearing nothing but his top), the searing heat sipping through your slit had soaked all the way through the flimsy fabric.

"Well, aren't you clever?" His voice was strained as he spoke. He was straining himself trying to stand still. How long would that last?

There was nothing logical about that little cunt of yours collapsing the colossus that was his reason. And that was just it, wasn't it? This had nothing to do with logic - it was all about instinct.

When he bared his teeth and sunk his claws into your sides like some animal, it was all about instinct.

"Enough games," Edward erupted. He didn't even sound like himself anymore, but rather a snarling beast. "Because of you," his growl was low as he pushed his pants down his pelvis. "I can't even think straight."

His cock sprung up and slapped your pussy. Oh, it stung so sweet!

The sooner he emptied his balls, the faster the blood would come rushing back to his brain where it belonged.

"I'm not done playing," you hissed as Edward's erection hit you. And, before he could grab it himself, you flattened it against his stomach by slotting it in between your slit. "I don't think you are either."

"Why, you little-" He gasped like a dying man. Your labia moving up and down his length had him gulping on all the air he lost. "I knew you'd be the death of me." His hands weren't his own after being cuffed by your own on either side of his face. "I knew you'd...you'd swallow me whole."

"Only if you ask nicely," your moaning was marred with mockery.

He'd give you a piece of his mind, if he had anything left to give. He'd lost it between your legs, between your second pair of lips and that inebriating liquor you were drooling all over his dick.

"Ask me to fuck you, Edward."

"You. Ask. Me." His hips couldn't stop moving, snapping against his will, like he was trying to buck you off. "Nicely."

"Eh-Edward," you warbled your words above him, your hold on his hands weakening. "Ed-OH!"

And, when he thought all his brains had already been blown away, you made them explode (and his other head almost do the same) all over again.

It all happened in a blink of a neon light. Your thighs tightened around him and your spine arched all the way back, taking your torso with it. You whipped your hair back as you fell on your hunches. Finally, your chest expanded and contracted, your skin shining with sweat (he had a peak of your puckered nipple once his shirt slipped off your shoulder) in the green glow of the monitors.

He'd only halted his hips out of fear of disrupting the dreamlike image. He might've stopped breathing altogether.

"Edward," you sighed, slumping your head forward.

He hissed your name, sucking some much-needed air through his clenched teeth.

With your knees now up and your hands spreading them further apart, he got a front-row view of your red slit, his purple hard-on, and the slick that spread out between the two like spiderwebs. "Do you want to come?"

"Trick question," he growled as he gathered himself. "A valiant effort." Yet, he still fell. He was on his hunches and threatening to overthrow you when you pushed him back into his place.

"An honest question." You had a hold on him, one hand pressing down on one pectoral as the other squeezed his shaft.

"N-naturally," he inhaled through his nose, eyes blown into two black holes and his lips chewed red.

"Ask me to fuck you," you grinned, the grip on his cock loosening to move up and down the length of it.

How many times did he have to remind you who is in charge? At least one more time? So be it! Wrapping his hand around your smaller one, he started stroking in a hurry. Oh, but you couldn't let him, could you? You just had to smack his hand away and secure your own around his wet and spongy head.

"What are you-"

"You said I could swallow you whole if I wanted to," you licked your lips as you slid down his body, slowly stroking him again. "Don't you want me to?" When you were eye level with it, you spit in your other hand before wrapping it around the base.

"Rhetorical question," he swallowed, tasting the last of your saliva on his tongue. Your last kiss was just a memory on his lips. Your next one would be tainted with his own taste, he'll make sure of it. "Of course I do."

"Say it," you demanded, his entire dick and life in your hands. "Say 'please'."

"Let me come," he ordered, your entire head of hair in his hands.

"You didn't use the magic word." You held him still, stroking no more. And, with your cool and calculating tone, you spoke searing words against his shaft. "Please let me come."

"Puh-please," Edward endured the sound of his own submission, that pathetic plea of his. He could no longer endure his own erection. "Please swallow me whole."

"Good boy," you praised him, finally (oh, finally) pressing your pursed lips against his penis. "Such a good boy." You peppered him with kisses as you climbed all the way up to his painful, purple cockhead.

"Please," he pulled your hair with one hand and pushed it away from your face with the other. "Please let me come."

Edward Nigma himself couldn't tell you what did the trick. If he were to guess, he'd say it wasn't just one thing. Your loving praise, your talented mouth, and your playful teasing were all contributing factors. Therefore, when he came down your throat as you finally (oh, finally) swallowed him whole, it was you in your entirety that had made him come.

"Edward," you whispered into his ear. "Are you asleep?"

"What is the only question you can't answer yes to?" With his weary eyes closed, he used his trembling fingertips to locate your lips. He kissed them, suckled them, tasting the tang of his own come on them. "I'm not, but I will be soon."

"Fucking finally," you sighed into the side of his neck.

You must've been tired yourself after all the trouble you went through cleaning his cock. He'd almost fallen asleep to the feeling of your kitten licks. Now, with a leg and an arm swung over his side, you started snoring against his spine.

It was 5 AM when his alarm went off for the third time.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's bedtime," he ripped the watch off of his wrist and buried it under the pillow.

"Good night," you kissed him between his wing bones and he felt like he might fly away with the Sandman, if only for one tonight.

"Good night."

#Edward Nigma #Edward Nygma #Riddler #Riddler X Reader #I was proofreading this at #*looks at the time*#fuck o' clock #when I noticed the SIMPcrow in me jumping out #If you encounter typos or other errors #I apologize

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liw-the-melancholic-apple · 4 years ago

Text

The First One - Bonus scenes in traditional written word

This is a smau and a zukoXreader, although i haven't decided how this ends yet.

Y/n has recently transferred to Ba Sing Se from Omashu university and meets the gaang through a schoolproject they do with sokka and suki.

Bonus 2: Nerves

Ooooookay. It wasn't all this exciting. You'd been to parties before. You'd met new people before. Why did choosing a pair of jeans feel like you were deciding your fate? You usually only noticed people's jeans when they didn't fit, were neon colours or torn to shreds.

Your jeans all fit you, they were all in the neutral colour scheme and those that were distressed were still more fabric than hole.

So, by your own logic you could choose any pair and be fine. Yet still five pairs were laying on your bed. 2 grey, 2 black, one midnight blue. You didn't seem to be able to pick one.

The pile of t-shirts and jumpers on the ground hadn't gotten any of your attention but promised to be a similar drama...

You sighed in annoyance and texted both, Jin and Fai. The latter had a lot of encouragement and suggestions while the former mostly mocked you. He did however offer some really good advise: treat it like a gig with the band. In a pub. Wear those clothes.

"And stop being such a nervous wreck! It doesn't suit you. You're great. You're fun. They'll like you."

He didn't let you thank him, though. "Next time you're here, you're buying at least two rounds. I'm not your fucking therapist."

Classic Jin. But his idea worked. To a gig you'd wear the ripped black jeans, white t-shirt and the vintage leather jacket.

Those where the clothes you wore when you left your appartment. Those were the clothes you wore when Suki texted that she was held up at Aang's place. She would be late. Sokka was gonna join later anyways. Ty Lee wasn't coming at all.

Yeah, meeting new people who were presumably forced to be nice to you!! On your own. Without the safety blanket that were Suki and Sokka. Great...

You stood in front of the Jasmin Dragon, studying the green and gold of the big logo on the window and the small one on the door.

You could just wait here for Suki. No, you weren't a child and Suki wasn't your mum. Besides, she would show up with Aang -why did that name seem so familiar? - and you already told her that you would be about 15 minutes earlier than her. Waiting was no option.

You shifted your weight from your left leg to the right and texted the group chat:" So, I'm here."

Katara answered, telling you to come inside to the counter. The scent of oriental spices and caramel syrup filled the air in the shop. The perfect mix of old-timey, traditional tea house and modern way too sweet coffeshop combined into one smell. The essence of the Jasmin Dragon.

You had discovered it during your first week in Ba Sing Se and instantly fell in love with it. Was it that smell? Maybe. Was it the excellent sencha-ginger-tea? Partially. Was it the supercharging, black as your soul giant mugs of coffee? Partially. Was it the delicious muffins in every flavour imagineable? Yes. Was it the breakfast items that all looked mouthwatering? Absolutely.

But mainly it was the general atmosphere here. The furniture was a collection of armchairs, benches, sofas and tables that all looked like they came from a 50's or 60's living room. All colours of the Rainbow, nothing actually fit together. It was so cosy and inviting.

And then there was the old man who usually was behind the black marble counter. You'd found that he would start around 11 am, as he was never there when you got your coffee before early lectures and classes. But he would take orders, prepare drinks, clean tables and give his thoughts on students' problems when you popped in for a midmorning pick-me-up.

And also now, close to closing time, the rotonde older man with the long grey hair stood behind the counter checking on a couple of teapots that gently bubbled behind him. While doing so, he talked to a short black-haired girl that giggled a lot. She held on to an annoyed looking tall guy, that you thought might work here, and stood next to a girl that warmly smiled at you and waved you over.

"Y/n?"

"Yes, that would be me. You're Katara?" She nodded.

"And that's Toph and Zuko", she answered while indicating the girl and the guy. Suki had warned you about both of them. Toph was blind and often subjected to people wanting to help her, which she hated. "Don't offer her help. She'll let you know when she needs you", Suki had said.

The girl extended a hand into your general direction. "Pleasure meeting you."

"All mine", you answered taking her hand. Zuko also shook your hand, mumbleing "Hi."

He had a rather large scar on the left side of his face. His hair covered it some. According to Suki you shouldn't stare and shouldn't mention it. She had known Zuko for years and still didn't know how he got it. You quickly averted your eyes.

"Okay, so I'm sure Suki already told you but she only just left Aang's. His roommate is a bit mad because he can't go to the party and delayed them."

You were about to answer when the man behind the counter cleared his throat. "Sencha-ginger", he handed you cup. Surprised but greateful you took it and looked for your wallet.

"Oh, no need. You've been a valued customer. And i finally learned your name. You know, you're one of the most quiet People ever to come into the shop." He gave you another smile.

"Not really quiet", you answer laughing. " But i usually come in alone and i don't like talking to myself in public. People stare." The man crinkled his forehead but Toph punched your shoulder and laughed. "Sokka said you were funny!"

"Well, why do you always come in on your own?", counterman inquired, his forehead smoother.

"Uhm...", should you tell the sad truth?

"You don't have to answer that", Zuko intervened. "Since he opened the dragon he's become quite enamored with gossip, haven't you uncle? No need to satisfy his curiosity."

"My nephew thinks me impolite. But I reckon there is a reason for your solitude. If it is your choice to enjoy our tea alone you can tell me that and no harm is done. But if unfortunate circumstances force you to drink your tea by yourself i would like to give you the oppertunity to speak about it. Let go of dark thoughts."

Wow. Some teamaker he was. And Zuko's uncle? Interesting.

"Thank you...Mr..."

"Iroh. Just Iroh will be fine."

"Well then, thank you Iroh. It's not too much of a story, though. I moved to Ba Sing Se six weeks ago and haven't yet found a group of people who'd put up with me for extended periods of time", you chuckled, hoping you didn't seem too desparate.

Katara seemed like she wanted to say something really nice but Iroh spoke quicker:" Oh, i don't think that's true. You don't give me the impression that anybody would have to put up with you. But if you want company while drinking your beverage i can always chat.

We could talk about your love for green tea and ginger. You know we also have black tea varieties that feature ginger and i think you might enjoy the herbal infusions.

The fruitier teas go great with the muffins! And if you're into croissants and pudding pretzels you should try the vanilla chai latte.

But if you don't want to talk about tea we could also gossip and play pai sho. You know how to play pai show, right?"

You absolutely didn't.

"I'm familiar with the most basic of basic rules." Wrong answer. The sweet little man grabbed a pai sho board out of nowhere and started explaining the game. Zuko offered an apologetic gesture, while Katara and Toph intently listened. You sipped your tea, nodded your head and enjoyed just being part of something. It had been a minute. But you would never play pai show of your own volition. The game was complicated and boring at the same time.

"Maybe you would like to learn about the ancient art of teamaking?", Iroh continued his suggestions of things to talk about when at the dragon.

Was there an art to it? Hot water and a teabag, no? You tried a vague expression and he kept talking.

"I always wanted to found a club or class, you know. Likeminded tea enthusiasts who want to deepen their knowledge and appreciation. Would you be interested?"

No, you weren't. But he was so endearing. So caring. So genuinely into this idea.

"I... have yet to find out how much time and effort my classes will demand. I wouldn't wanna make promises i can't keep."

That was fair, right? And not even an actual lie.

"We're here!!!!!"

Suki burst through the door, followed by a gangly guy with a shaved head. Aang!! That's why the name sounded familiar! He was Instagram verified. Half the campus followed him for his inspirational quotes and vegan recipes.

Suki hugged you hello, introduced you to the insta-famous and then Katara ushered you out and to the metrostation.

You waved at Iroh as you left. He had only talked about things that hardly interested you but he'd managed to make you feel like a member of the group that was now discussing pai sho rules, teamaking and being on time.

MASTERLIST

Part 1

@fanficflaneuse @eddiesemoass

#atla fanfic #atla zuko #smau #avatar: tla #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader

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world-of-horrors-au · 5 years ago

Text

Horrors au - Horrors appearance headcanons

Jeff:

Same general coloration as expected - black hair, pale skin, etc. He was born with brown hair and dark blue eyes, but when he was born as a Horror, his body transformed. It had nothing to do with bleach, fire, or bullies.

He did give himself a 'smile' when he was born as a Horror, however it got horribly infected, and was eventually sewn up once he was picked up off the streets. There are scars where the cuts once were, along with one at the deepest part of the infection site.

Can't grow a beard, rip

Actually, he's completely hairless other than his head.

6'2 feet tall

Eyes look either gray or pale blue depending on the light

Clothing wise, the white bloody hoodie is how he's mostly pictured in the media. And he does wear white sweatshirts or hoodies when he wants to make an impact.

Around the others, though? Soft pajama bottoms in solid, dark colors, thin t shirts or sleeveless shirts, no shoes, even in the depths of the Forest. Will wear a dark hooded overcoat over his clothes in the rain.

Eyeless Jack:

Gray skin

Small, pointed ears

Traditional empty sockets full of black ooze. Despite the lack of eyes, he can see in his own way.

Brown hair, and lots of it. His hair grows very fast and thick. He doesn't bother to cut his hair until it's at his waist but does shave. He has semi permanent stubble on his face.

6'4

His mask is blue, of course, and stained from his mask. There's a faded smile painted over the mouth, just a thin, happy line, and a jagged cut on one eye hole where Briar attacked him during his first meeting.

He has wings. Draconic in style, they seem to shrink and grow as needed. They are the same color as his skin, with a blue tinted membrane and black stud like bumps on the top ridge and back.

His fingers and toes turn into claws at his command, turning black and sharp. Otherwise they are human like, with normal, blunt nails. His feet can transform into talons, five claws in front and one in back.

He doesn't have many different types of clothes. His black pants, dark shirt and hoodie are something of a uniform to him. He has multiple copies of each item.

No shoes. They get in the way and can be painful to try and transform his feet through.

Ben:

Blonde, fair skinned, freckles. Eyes are there but entirely black with a red pupil that grows and shrinks with his emotions.

Being a digital being, however, he can and does change his appearance with ease, and completely without warning.

One day, blonde hair just touching his next. The next, long blonde hair streaked red and in a spiked, sky high ponytail. The next, he's covered with tattoos, and his hair is a mohawk the color of the trans flag. The only thing that he doesn't change while being himself is his eyes.

Can be any height. Today he's 5'3. Tomorrow, 6'9. Doesn't like being too tall, he has trouble holding his form together.

He can transform himself into any person he has personally interacted with, or has a good amount of footage/photos of. When disguising himself, he does change the look of his eyes, but he dislikes it.

Yes he is trans, more info on that when his hc post comes out. He passes completely as male, looking next to nothing like he did while alive. He can transform into a woman if needed but he hates doing it as it gives him bad dysphoria and he'll need to abandon having a form at all to recover for a while.

Clothing is whatever the fuck he wants, it's all digital just like him. Catch him walking around in a crop top and a floor long neon green fur coat, or a graphic tee with two middle fingers over the boob area, or black pleather tights and a red sleeveless turtleneck. Whatever it is, it's probably not subtle.

He sometimes goes around naked to try and embarrass Briar. It almost always works.

Laughing Jack:

Doesn't look much different from how he's normally viewed. Tall monochrome clown man with ragged black hair, a pointy striped nose, and sharp teeth. His fingers are similar to Eyeless Jack's in that he can turn them into claws, only his claws are much bigger, and even when normal, the ends of his fingers are pointed, with sharp nails.

Is a living doll, whether that's obvious on the surface or not, so when you hug him he is soft and warm and a bit fuzzy under his clothes. Considering he's the cruelest of all the Horrors, it's very... weird.

His nose looks deadly sharp but in reality, when you press against it, it crinkles like foil, springing back into shape as if nothing happened when released. Press it in all the way and you will hear a honk. But don't. He hates that.

Anything he puts on magically becomes black and white, and regains its color when he takes it off. Similarly, anything he puts on magically becomes his size, which is good because this mofo is 7'3.

You will only see one color on this guy, and that's red - blood from his victims, or red from blushing. The guy doesn't have blood so there's no reason for him to blush but he does and it's probably better not to think about it too hard. (There's no reason for him to be able to eat either. Don't think on that either.)

Being a toy, he doesn't sweat. Blood tends to fade away off his body naturally. He hates water but will tolerate showers so long as he's not alone.

He likes patterns, textures, and anything fitting his antique/clown aesthetic. He will sometimes wear skirts and dresses for no reason other than he wants to. But all the patterns have to clash and everything must be extra as hell.

Briar:

Long black hair, down to her shoulder blades, gray eyes, fair skin with freckles on her cheeks, running down her neck to the rest of her body.

She keeps her hair in a ponytail most days, preferring a high placement, but if she just doesn't care she'll put it near her neck.

While she bears a passing resemblance to Jeff coloration wise I swear to God that's not intentional, I promise they're not related.

Fit. Despite loving her sweets, she eats as healthily as she can and goes on morning and evening runs, along with a quick body weight workout before work every day.

Her ears are pierced, though she never wears anything more remarkable than colored studs. Sometimes she'll wear silver roses.

Stretch marks. She was overweight as a child and teen and while the weight is gone, the stretch marks are still there. They're mostly on her sides, thighs and back. She's very sensitive about them due to years of bullying and comments from family members but tries not to let on about that.

Has many scars from early encounters with the early Horrors. While they are almost unnoticeable among humans, the intentionally caused scars, like the one on her shoulder where Eyeless bit her, become darker in their presence.

Sometimes paints her nails but prefers to not spend the effort unless something important is coming up.

She hated shaving her legs and never did it unless she had to. But like with Jeff, her body hair is falling out and not growing back in. Briar wears pants or leggings while out in public, just in case people catch on.

Her clothing preferences are casual but feminine. Mostly pants, short sleeved or three-quarter sleeved shirts. Mostly they're for warm weather as she lives and works in coastal South Carolina, but she's building up a collection of warmer jackets for the Forest, which is very, very different than the beach life her human coworkers love.

She loves roses and vine designs but in subtle amounts, she's not a fan of big patterns. Likes purples and blues and yellows with black and white. And lace, again in small amounts. But really she wears whatever she thinks is pretty.

Has army boots where she laced them up with lacy fabric trimmings from a work friend's sewing project. She never wears them anywhere because she'd hate to see them ruined.

Her work scrubs are either covered with cats, plants, or just solid colors. She thinks wearing cats on clothing can be tacky if it's too cartoony but she's working at a vet office, she may as well wear the colors proudly.

Secretly she thinks you're never fully dressed unless you've got some cat hair on you. She hasn't owned a cat since moving to South Carolina after college.

#horrors au #creepypasta #creepypasta au #jeff the killer #laughing jack #eyeless jack #creepypasta ben drowned #creepypasta ben #ben drowned #creepypasta original character #creepypasta oc #creepypasta hc #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta jtk #creepypasta jeff the killer #creepypasta ej #creepypasta laughing jack

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hydrangeasimagination · 5 years ago

Note

Au where Kugo or Aizawa is Garnet and mochi is Stevonnie. I think this would be super cute and its to do with their training

oH MY GODS - I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT FUSIONS AND STUFF -

Lemme just ramble about fusing for a bit??

TBT + Mochi Fusions are as follows:

Kamo (there's a river in Japan named after this)

Stable

You two trust each other truly and wholly, he lets himself be vulnerable enough to attach to you and share the same mind space. The two of you are perfectly in sync, body, mind, and soul even if your relationship is platonic.

Together, Kamo is the most balanced fusion. They're succinct, a bit foul mouthed but intelligent. Very cheeky and their bluntness can often be considered rude. They get along with people so well that it's hard to believe Katsuki was apart of such a well-rounded fusion. Confident and very sure in their skills, knows what they're good at. A little short fused and quick to just jump right into fights, they can be hard to handle.

A true powerhouse in their own right. Their explosions are amplified, often enough almost kamikaze-like. Strategies are air tight, even though they seem to leave the enemy a little beaten more than what was originally planned. Although it's unclear whether that was intentional or not.

Katsu's spiky hair play a huge factor in design. They're on the bottom when it comes to short to medium hair cuts, a ponytail or braids of your hair color is there if your hair is especially long. If you got an afro or dreadlocks, it makes Kamo's roots ash blond and it seems to cause your hair to pull back and poke out. If you got an undercut than it's likely his hair color is where it's been shaved, if you have no hair than Kamo's just got Katsuki's hair in an undercut.

Oh! And his red eyes give Kamo a tint of it, often seen when they're incredibly angry or excited for a good fight.

Mozuku (yes, like the food)

Mostly Stable

You both do love each other, you love each other a whole lot. But often times, Izuku's anxiety affects you in negative ways if the both of you are fused. That means you're not always in sync all of the time and strong emotions can cause you both to unfuse if you couldn't calm him down.

Overall though, Mozuku is a good fusion. They're very quick thinking and work well in stressful situations due to their analytical nature. Openly, they're very positive and polite, although perhaps a little shy around new people. Bustling with energy all the time, they're well versed in catching and keeping attention which makes them a good leader in certain respects. Even if they seem unsure of their abilities sometimes.

Like Kamo, they're also quite powerful. Their intense strength and almost cat-like reflexes makes it hard for people to know what they're planning. Their ability to come up with strategies on the spot also helps in tight situations. It seems they've quickly mastered over their quirks as well, often using them in tandem.

Izuku's incredibly messy, curly hair makes an appearance no matter what. The distinct green either dyes the tips or roots or just leaves a tint.

Freckles are really only seen in the sun! It seems Mozuku's eyes turn a near neon green when OFA is in use.

Shōchi (this literally means 'consent')

Slightly Unstable

Two abused people sharing the same mind sounds a bit unhealthy, especially if you're flooded with a barrage of the thoughts that were just tucked away. It leaves you both exhausted after unfusing but it also leaves you wanting to hold one another. You still love each other but it's hard to keep a fusion together with so much emotional turmoil. On top of that, if you both were to become to become distress, all three quirks would be going haywire.

Shōchi is a calm, polite, and kind individual, despite being quite dense and often unable to read social cues and thinks of that nature. They're very open to telling people how they feel and how they see things. Gives sage advice and is very wise, an overall very logical person that don't really let their emotions rule their thinking. Not unless it involves their family anyhow. Articulate, sophisticated, and incredibly intelligent.

They're the second strongest of the fusions having to do with Mochi, as having three that can quirks all be used together. They have not only large scale attacks that rip away at the foundations of buildings and tear down large enemies, but also incredibly attacks that always hit their mark with pinpoint accuracy. Despite their elegance, their hand to hand combat strikes hard and heavy.

They are... Incredibly attractive. As I've made it clear on your own, you're very pretty and Shouto is good looking as well. So it's no question that Shōchi is absolutely gorgeous. Silvery streaks of white and red intersperse through your's no matter the hair type. Curling and twisting around each other similar to candy canes, twisted through out long hair and even used to tie everything back.

Shouto's burn remains around the left eye. The heterochromia is still there, although gray flecks decorated the blue of Shouto's left side and your eye color.

Back to the Ask:

I can imagine “Here Comes a Thought” with one of Mochi’s fusions along with EraserMic or EraserMight where they’re trying to just settle their thoughts. It’s nice as any of them could be plagued with all these thoughts and it can be dispelled when they make peace with them

Kamo’s near reverent protectiveness, their fear in losing their loved ones is soothed when they’re reminded that they’re strong. Reminded that they can take care of themselves and Kamo doesn’t always have to protect them or carry all of it on their shoulders.

Mozuku’s rather passive nature and doubt in their abilities stem from Izuku and when he finally understands that it’s his thoughts holding them back from being stronger than you already are. Guilt started to fill him but you assure him that you were there for him and would support him if he ever felt like he had again.

Shōchi’s childhood trauma couldn’t be solved in similar manner but it’s just the matter of accepting that it had happened. That you and Shouto are no longer in those situations, that you’re safe and overcame it all. Fighting your demons and fears are made just a bit easier when you have him to fight with you. It makes you more stable, hence making you more powerful.

~ Dari

#dari drawls #response asks #headcanons #brothers three chatter #platonic #fusion au #bakugo katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #mochi

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xoxodropletsscenarios · 6 years ago

Text

Everexas

This ship is Everett x Rex x Lukas who we have so kindly nicknamed the disaster trio. I wrote this last night in the discord and the prompt is, bad hair dying with Lukas. Also, to all of you that have sent in asks, I’m sorry that I’ve been so absent. School and band have thrown me for a loop but I’m back for a little while longer.

Everett stared at his boyfriend as he pushed the cart up and down the aisles. He bit his Starbucks straw between his lip as he sipped on his caramel frappuccino. Lukas paced up and down the aisles, picking up boxes of hair color and then shaking his head silently and putting them back down again. He’d been doing that for almost 10 minutes and frankly, Everett was starting to get bored and annoyed. The only reason Everett hadn’t told him to just hurry up was because he like staring at his boyfriend’s ass too much to let it bother him. However, Rex had left him 5 minutes ago to go look for something to eat and Everett was trying not to rip Lukas’s head off at his indecisiveness.

“Just pick a color,” Everett said, his annoyance coming through his voice loud and clear. Lukas looked over at Everett and blushed in embarrassment as he apologized.

“It’s just, I kind of want to go with a color other than orange this time. To spice things up a little bit,” he explained. Everett could see that the color on the box in his left hand was a deep midnight blue and in the right was neon green. Wrinkling his nose, Everett came over to Lukas and starting grabbing colors off of the shelf. When he successfully had collected no less than ten colors in varying shades of the rainbow, Everett went back to the cart and said, “Let's go.”

They went to the register and found Rex paying for their food, three club wraps. Everett took his and opened it, taking a bite as he waited for Lukas to check out.

“Are you sure you need that much hair dye?” Rex asked, watching Lukas check out the different colors. In total, 13 colors went into 3 different bags and Lukas just shrugged and said, “I suppose I can just return what I don’t use.”

Nodding slightly, Rex followed next to Everett and slightly behind Lukas as they headed back to Mrs. Kaiser’s car. She smiled at the boys as they approached, her black hair pulled up into the most perfect messy bun Everett had ever seen on anyone (yes, even Rex). “Welcome back, boys. What color did you get, Luke?” she asked, peering over her shoulder as she backed out.

“Oh, um, I just got a couple and then what I don’t use I can return later,” he explained. She nodded and they ate their wraps and talked on the way back, Lukas showing Everett and Rex something interesting on his phone. When they got back to the house, Lukas set down his bags from the store and went downstairs to get a bowl. He winked at Everett and Rex on his way into the bathroom, holding the glass bowl carefully so as not to drop it and invoke his mother’s wrath. Once he was safely inside the privacy of his bathroom, he grabbed his hair dye brush with a smirk and readied himself, stripping out of his clean shirt and into his dye shirt, which is permanently stained orange.

Carefully, he put colors wherever his artistic side let him, the hair dye being the paint and his hair being the canvas. Lukas made sure not to leave any hair unmarked and by the time he was done, he felt rather proud of himself. Having used about 10 different colors of hair dye, Lukasrecapped the tubes and put them back into the box. He had aborted his original plan to mix all the colors together as he remembered his art teacher telling him when he was in 3rd grade that if he mixed all of the colors of the rainbow he’d get black or brown. When he was done cleaning, he spent the last 15 of the required 30 minutes talking to Everett and Rex through the door before announcing that he was getting in the shower to rinsing out the dye. He could see the pigment swirl in the water, a deep murky color rushing down the drain.

Sticking a towel onto his head, Lukas talked to Everett through the door. “It’s going great,” he reassured, “Don’t worry about it!” Grinning, Lukas rubbed the towel vigorously on the top of his head before removing it and nearly shrieking, though he was almost certain he let out a pitiful whimper. His hair looked like someone had dumped paint on it, splotches of green, blue and red intermixed with hot pink, bright purple, and highlighter orange. There were patches of awful mixed colors where he had overlapped the dye on accident and Lukas checked himself over in the mirror.

“There is no way to save this,” he whispered quietly, deciding that it was for the best if he just, cut it all off. Plugging up the electric razor that he normally only used to shave the sides of his head, Lukas looked over his hair and was suddenly glad that his roots were coming in, it meant that he didn’t have to go bald. With a deep breath and a prayer to God, he cut away at his hair until only the black roots remained. The clippers were put away when he was done, looking over his impromptu buzz cut. It wasn't too bad and as he surveyed it in the mirror amongst the remnants of his failed dye job, he could feel it start to grow on him.

Lukas cleaned up his bathroom, tossed on a clean shirt, and left the bathroom, a proud smile on his face.

“What the FUCK did you do to your hair?!” Everett asked in shock, getting up to quickly run his hands over the new haircut. Lukas chuckled nervously, bending his head down for Everett to get a better look at it. Rex came over to look at the haircut, running gentle fingers over the black hair before a soft smile crossed his face.

“I like it,” Rex said simply and Lukas looked up hopefully at him. “Though, what did happen to your hair?” And with that, Lukas launched into the entire hair debacle, complete with his first idea of combining all of the colors at once, his rainbow spots, and finally shaving it off. Everett and Rex gave him matching deadpan looks and Lukas tilted his head in confusion, “What?”

“You could have just fucking dyed it black again, dumbass,” Everett said angrily. He was personally upset by the fact that he would no longer have Lukas’s soft hair to run his fingers through. “Or you could have just gone back to the store and gotten dye remover,” Rex said, arching an eyebrow at Lukas. Lukas, who hadn’t taken the time to consider these two options at first, reddened considerably and opened his mouth to defend himself before shutting it again.(edited)Everett sighed and stretched up, pressing his lips to Lukas’s to help make his boyfriend feel better. “You can’t shave away stupid, unfortunately,” Everett whispered with a chuckle as he pulled away. Lukas frowned before saying, “It was a good idea in my head.”

“Yeah? And so was trying to backflip off of the large communal garbage bin in the back. We had to help you back to the apartment so that you could get cleaned up. You were just lucky not to have broken anything in the fall,” Rex said. Lukas opened his mouth to protest before remembering that, of course, that was exactly what had happened and shut it again. Rex gave a soft laugh before kissing Lukas too, first on the lips, the on point of his newly exposed widow's peak. Eyes lighting up, Lukas said, “Fine, alright. But it’s not that bad and in a month it’ll be long enough so that I can dye it again. And this time, I’m sticking with orange.”

“That’s the best thing you’ve said all day, Jack-o-lantern,” Everett teased, kissing Lukas cheek before dragging both Rex and Lukas to the bed for some quality cuddles.

#fanfic #this was longer than intended #everexas #everett gray #rex eld #lukas kaiser #xoxo droplets #gb patch #gb patch games

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dresupi · 6 years ago

Text

misguided mojito

Darcy Lewis Crack Challenge 2019 | Day 10: Mistaken Flirtation |

Ship: Darcy Lewis/Logan | Prompt: Day 10: Mistaken Flirtation | Other Tags: Alternating POV, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Wingman Remy LeBeau, Misunderstandings, comedy of errors, Flirting, Bad Flirting, Alcohol | Word Count: 1399 | Rated: T |

Summary:

Mistaken flirtation. Mistaken everything. There are seriously so many mistaken interchanges that they have to start canceling each other out, right?

AKA: some of the lyrics to ‘Mr. Jones’ by Counting Crows.

Logan

This wasn’t his scene. He definitely shouldn’t be here. This club was full of neon lights and cushy seats. Women who wouldn’t give him a second glance. Men too. Everything and everyone was so polished and shiny.

And here he was, rough and dirty. Messing up the ambiance.

He should go.

Logan took another sip from his drink and started to leave, but Remy’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Where do you think you’re going, big guy?”

“Home. To be alone. Like it should be. I’m ruining the mood here.”

“Bullshit. You aren’t ruining anything,” Remy seemed so sure of that.

“These aren’t my kind of people,” Logan insisted.

“You fit right in. You’re dressed like me.” Remy gestured between their black t-shirts. Logan’s a crew cut while Remy’s deep V left little to the imagination.

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I’m leaving.”

“Just give it a chance to work, Logan. This place always works.”

“Maybe I don’t need it to work, Remy. You ever think about that?” Logan jerked his arm away. “Maybe I’m fine being on my own.”

“No just… wait. Look. That girl? That cute one with the curly hair?”

Logan frowned, glancing around. “Where?”

“There. Between six and seven o’clock. Don’t look directly, just… slowly slide your gaze over that way. You can’t miss her.”

Logan did as Remy directed, his gaze centering on a very attractive woman. Dark curly hair. Big eyes. One of which she was winking at him. She was sipping on a drink with mint sprigs and limes. Probably a mojito, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Should I buy her a drink, do you think?” Logan asked, leaning over towards Remy.

“No. I think you should stare creepily at her until she either calls the cops or maces you. Yes. Buy her a drink. If she declines, she declines, and I promise you can go home. Just... give it a shot.” Remy was no longer looking at him, but at a rather tall fellow across the room. He towered above the entire crowd with muscles to match. In other words, just Remy’s type. Of course, everyone was Remy’s type, so that wasn’t much of a distinction.

Logan turned around to face the bartender. “Hey, can you send another one of whatever she’s drinking?” he pointed to the woman in question. “The one in the green shirt? With the curls? Put it on my tab.”

“Okay, full disclosure, I didn’t make her first drink, but I’ll call it a mojito,” the bartender said as he reached for the white rum. “If it’s wrong, it’s on me.”

Darcy

Let it be known that Jane and Pepper were idiots when it came to holding their drinks. And lemon drops besides. What was this? Sophomore year in the sorority house?

She sipped at her limey-mint water. It wasn’t a mojito, but apparently, the bartender made a mean virgin-version for the designated drivers. It was fine. It wasn’t rum, but Darcy figured that Pep and Janey could use all the help she could provide in schlepping their drunk asses home. She’d have to go get another one soon. She turned back to the bar, frowning because there was a new bartender on staff. What if his virgin cocktails weren’t any good?

She reached up to absently wipe her eye but stopped halfway there. If she did that, she’d have mascara and eyeliner smudged down her cheek. Not only had Pepper and Jane dragged her away from a comfy couch and Netflix, but they’d also made her get all made up. Fake eyelashes and everything.

And now that she was paying attention, her left one was itching. Irritating her.

She blinked a couple of times and reached up to ensure the glue was still adhered.

And now it was tugging. She felt her eye twitch on its own.

She sighed and started scanning the bar for Pepper and Jane. She really needed to get out of here and soon. Otherwise, she’d have to go to the bathroom and pull off the eyelash.

A few minutes of scanning turned up both of them across the room at the second bar, where the previous bartender had gone.

They must switch sides on the hour or something, she thought to herself before taking a step in that direction.

She didn’t get far, though. The second she stood up from her chair, a server stopped her and pushed a drink in her hand. “From the guy at the bar… the hot one in the black t-shirt…” the woman said before hightailing it off to parts of the bar unknown.

Darcy turned towards the bar, bringing the glass up to her face to sniff.

Just as she suspected. White Rum. The new drink slinger didn’t know she was sober for the night. And since the server was gone, she had no choice but to walk up there and give it back.

Sighing, she started towards the bar.

Logan

The cute girl was approaching with her untouched drink. Logan watched as she moved right past him and onto Remy, handing the drink back to him. “Sorry, dude. I’m the designated driver.”

Twenty layers of embarrassment wrapped themselves around Logan like a cocoon. An itchy, irritating cocoon.

First off, she just assumed the drink was from Remy. Never even gave him a second thought. Which was exactly how he told Remy it would be. He wasn’t shiny enough for this place.

“Oh, whoa. Sorry about that…” Remy took the drink and slid it onto the bar. “We can get that fixed for you, but first off, that’s not from me. It’s from my friend.”

He slipped his arm around Logan’s shoulders and tugged him close in a side-hug. “ My friend. Logan. This is Logan. Logan, meet…” Remy paused, waiting for the woman to share her name.

“Darcy,” she said, blinking as she extended her hand towards Logan.

Darcy

She felt dazed. Dazed because she never saw anyone as stacked or built as this guy was. Well. Not in the same way. She saw lots of dudes with muscles for show.

This guy had muscles for work.

Barely bulging biceps pushed against his t-shirt sleeves. A thick vein ran down his arm and through his forearms. He wasn’t flexing. Wasn’t trying to show off. Geez, he could probably lift her with one arm.

He smelled like beer and Old Spice. No overwhelming cologne that made her nose burn. Logan looked like he hadn’t shaved in two days at least.

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down to get control of herself before attempting to speak again. “Hi. I’m Darcy.”

Muscles grinned slightly. “You said that already. Not that I don’t like hearing it.”

She leaned down to take a sip of her already empty drink, missed the straw and got the lime instead. It was bitter and icy cold. She coughed loudly.

Logan

Even as she spit the lime out onto the ground, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted her number. Just as soon as she stopped coughing.

It didn’t take him long to realize that her cough wasn’t ending. And it wasn’t the normal kind either. “Goddamn, you’re choking!” He reached out to pat her back.

Darcy

Goddamn, I’m choking.

Logan

“Do you need the Heimlich?” he asked, his hand still rubbing small circles on her back.

Darcy shook her head. “Water. WATER.”

Logan took her cup and held it out to the bartender. “Water.”

He waffled for a minute but filled up the glass with the sprayer in his hand and Logan handed it back to Darcy.

She drank it, coughed twice more and thanked him, holding her hand out to squeeze his forearm. She squeezed it three times before he could think to say anything.

“You wanna go someplace quieter?”

Darcy

She couldn’t believe he still wanted anything to do with her when she nearly ralphed on his shoes.

“I wish, but I’m kind of looking after my friends. You know. When I’m not choking to death on my drink…” She laughed nervously, and he was still peering at her.

“You got a number?”

“Um… yeah. Yeah. I do.”

“We can set something up another night?” he offered, as she pulled out her phone.

“You’d want to?” she asked, still not believing her luck.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

#Clawshock #Darcy Lewis #Logan #darcy/Logan #dlaf2019 #Darcyland Crack Challenge

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missilekidding · 6 years ago

Note

☄ / 🔮 / 🌐 :)

Gah I had so much fun with these! Again, so sorry I didn’t get around to them sooner, but I hope they were worth waiting for!

☄ - NewsAGoGo

To begin with I need to say that my headcanons for this wonderful lesbian are HEAVILY influenced by @neon-rat‘s NewsAGoGo tag cause that shit is SO GOOD.

- So we got our lesbian scene queen here. She’s had about four thousand different hair cuts and colours and not a single one has ever looked good, but that’s sort of the point. She is CONSTANTLY shaving bits off her head and has most of her scalp tattooed. Frequently seen in a variety of extremely ugly green, yellow or orange trench coats and totally impractical knee length boots, and manages to pull off the ‘I literally wouldn’t recognise good fashion if it punched me in the face’ look brilliantly. This is mostly because of her charisma and confidence in personally loving her own look, and besides, she is a TERRIFYING motherfucker so most runners wouldn’t have the guts to tell her they don’t like her look anyway.

- When I say shes tattooed I mean she is TATTOOED. Most of her body is covered. They aren’t generally big pieces either - a large piece on her upper arm, chest and one thigh, but otherwise covered in tons of smaller pieces, individual from each other and symbolic of vastly different things. Her favourite is probably any of the pieces her girlfriend, DJ Hot Chimp, has given her, and even if Hot Chimp wasn’t genuinely one of the best tattoo artists in the zones she would adore the fact that it’s her girl’s iconic ocean patterns that rest across her rib cage.

- She can be pretty blunt, and it often comes across as rude - she will always speak her mind and totally tends to miss the changes in conversations when people are hurt. She can also get a little heated too when she’s passionate, but also very short when she doesn’t care, so she can be a little intense for many joys to deal with. That’s not, however, to say that she is unkind. If NewsAGoGo is anything, its a good fucking friend. She is fiercely loyal to Doctor Death Defying and her friends at the radio station, and to Hot Chimp, and she easily makes up for anything mean that she may accidentally say in the passion she shows to the people she trusts.

- Before they settled either with or near Doctor D in the radio station, News, Hot Chimp, Cherri and Pony all ran together - it only lasted for about six months once they escaped the City, but it was probably the most fun any of them had. They were some of the earliest killjoys to get out, so the rules of the Zones were much less defined, meaning that setting fire to buildings for the sake of it and driving fast enough to crash every single car they found was fine - the precious nature of these things really weren’t set out or apparent, and the desire for chaos which plagues any runner fresh out of the City went uncontrolled in them.

🔮 - The Phoenix Witch

AH! My absolutely favourite character in the universe! Resident Goth Deity!

- She isn’t called the Phoenix Witch for no reason. The woman has mad power. Raising the dead and making random shit vanish type power. Mostly she takes this very seriously - a nasty side effect of prophetic visions is that she can see the role she, and others, need to play in the big picture, and so her somewhat controversial choices to raise, or not raise joys from the dead plays on her conscience a lot. It’s not clear where she got her power from other than the fact that it took her years of practise to gain it, and that the more powerful she becomes the less she seems to actually be seen.

- This then means that very few living runners have actually seen her. In the earlier days it was more common - she seemed to actually conform to the idea that having a physical form means that you had to exist somewhere at all times, so seeing her around the zones was rare, but possible. Many of those ‘joys who did see her wandering across the land however were ghosted, and those who do claim to have seen her in the later years tend to say that she can just appear at will, and so this lack of knowledge and sightings of her, paired with the frequent stories of the impossible things she can just do really gained her her status as big fucking mythical cryptid across the zones.

- Know I included this in my last Phoenix Witch headcanon post but it’s a headcanon I am willing to Die for - She is Doctor Death Defying’s twin. They were raised together and although they don’t see each other very often cause like. crazy zone happenings. they are still incredibly close and look out for each other. They also fuck around and indirectly make each other’s lives extremely difficult on purpose to piss the other one off because even if your sister is essentially a deity you can still make sure that she wakes up to her least favourite song playing on the radio once every week, and even if your brother is the most revered killjoy in the zones you can give him weird fucking intense dreams that fully convince him that yes, he is in fact a large marsupial, at two in the morning.

- Her ability to shape shift was something that kind of just happened. very suddenly. She was kind of just sitting there one day, thinking about how inconvenient it was to be a human person with like arms and legs and a torso, when suddenly she just wasn’t anymore. It was pretty surprising to say the least, to no longer have to exist in corporeal form, but both personally and practically it was pretty awesome, and after some practise she worked out how to change into a raven, which while also looking totally rad allowed her to go and sit outside Doctor D’s radio station at ungodly hours of the morning and shriek really loud before making a quick get away.

🌐 - One of my OCs

Okay lets talk Grenade. My fucking weird dumbass bitch oc. Love her.

- She has never lived in the Battery - she’s originally from around London, but when shit Went Down in the UK her family moved as far as they could - into the area that later became the zones. Her mother moved into the City in the early days but Grenade’s apprehension to follow proved pretty fucking lucky after Better Living started dropping bombs on the zones and their true nature was revealed. During this time she spent a while running with this group of aggressive dudes and trying to convince herself that she was totally straight™, but she quickly realised that this group were actually pretty awful morally, and left, later realising that girls exist and reassessing her entire world view.

- She is pretty covered in tattoos (notice the running theme in my headcanons for most female killjoys, I’m gay sue me), with her favourite being either the snake around her forearm or the large floral pieces over her hips and thighs. Her time being a general nuisance to Dracs has proved a little detrimental to the larger pieces on her body - a particularly violent run in left most of her chest piece totally unrecognisable, but the scarring itself still has meaning to her so it doesn’t bother her too much.

- She is often seen running around under the full moon, titties out, praising the Goddess. Just cause you live in the desert doesn’t mean you can’t still do your crazy witch shit and Grenade is definitely extremely spiritual. Due to this she also makes charms for runners she meets - getting her hands on actual supplies for spell bags is hard, but she makes do with what she can find and invests a lot of time into sigil magic to make up for it.

- Her and Lithium (@neon-rat’s OC) were the first members of their group, and met shortly after Better Living stopped dropping pig bombs when the two of them ended up trying to kill the same annoying SCARECROW agent together. They got on amazingly mostly because they are both fucking batshit crazy, so the idea of spending three weeks hiding in the City and just repetitively stealing all the fruit from the previously mentioned SCARECROW agent’s house before setting it on fire was one that made perfect sense to them both. They were originally gonna call their group Dykes! but realised that DOGS, or ‘Damn, Occult Girls are Sexy’ is funnier, and sounds like it should stand for something way cooler than it does.

#skkjdkjfd #the rest of these asks should be out by the end of the day #once again: i am a dumb bitch and should not casually queue ask posts months in advance and assume i'll have time for them #headcanons #mcr #killjoys #danger days #my chemical romance #my writing #phoenix witch #newsagogo #grenade #asks #long post #d slur /

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veryangryhedgehog · 6 years ago

Video

youtube

“Pancakes and the Art of Badassery”, an Ede Valley story by Hedgehog.

(Yes I know this is long overdue please forgive me)

Sept. 3rd, 11:59PM –

“You call this a safe house?” Niko Borozov somehow managed to look down his nose at the dingy apartment from his 5’ 3” of height. Said apartment was dark, and grey, but most of all small, with a tiny kitchen in the back corner and one, singular window opposite it. “Get a look at this, Lila.”

His body guard appeared behind his shoulder, standing a full four inches taller than him. “Beggars can’t be choosers, young master,” she intoned as she walked over to the window and pulled the shade down. At first glance Lila Finn didn’t appear entirely intimidating, her adolescent figure and wild, orange hair making her seem more like an Irish barmaid than bodyguard to the heir of the affluent Borozov family. But anyone who knew Lila knew that she would sooner cut you down with the katana she kept in the case on her back than say hello.

Of the two men that followed them inside, each built like a wall of bricks, Vincent was not familiar with her, while Ivan was. You could tell by the way he maintained a good few feet between them at all times.

“Yeah, keep the guilt train coming.” Niko rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Really though, is this the best the ‘mighty Borozov family’ can do? I mean, come on, the TV’s a box for god’s sake.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Ivan apologized through his thick Russian accent. “But it was best we could do given circumstances.”

“Ugh, don’t call me sir,” Niko pleaded, looking horrified. “That’s my father.”

Vincent chimed in, taking a step into the apartment. “And until he can make some kind of deal with the Mirelli’s, we have to keep you out of the city. They want your head.”

“Haven’t they always? I’m the family heir of their biggest rival.” Niko let out a puff of air as he plopped down on the faded couch. Its springs creaked even under his slight weight. He ran a hand through his spiky, blond hair and rubbed absently along the pattern shaved out of one side of his head.

Lila approached from behind. “But now they have a reason to take it. You enjoy making my job difficult, don’t you?” She placed her hands on the couch cushions, squeezing hard. Most people wouldn’t have noticed a little thing like that, but Niko had known her for a long time. Something was on her mind.

“You’ve got to report to my father, right?” Niko asked Ivan and Vincent pointedly.

“Yes, of course.” Ivan nodded, and he and Vincent made their way to the door. But Ivan turned back towards the two kids. “You know rules, da? No opening shades, no going outside.”

Niko raised a hand to wave him out. “You act like this is my first rodeo. I got it.”

Still Ivan paused, a worried expression painted on his face. But then he shook his head and closed the door behind him.

Neither Lila nor Niko moved for a minute as they listened to the men’s footsteps fading down the hallway. Then Niko placed his hand on top of Lila’s. “And you’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She pulled away, moving back towards the window. “You could have gotten yourself killed.” Peeking through the shade, she blinked from the light of the neon sign below. From her angle above she couldn’t quite make out the exact words on the sign, but from the image of the goat holding a cold pint she assumed it must have been pointing out a drinking establishment of some sort.

“That’s what I have you for.” Niko grinned. “To make sure the heir of the Borozov family keeps breathing.” His tone was light, but she could hear the biting undertone all too well.

She sighed. “But what if I wasn’t there? I’m not the... immortal warrior you seem to think I am.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you are,” Niko laughed. “My father would never have trusted you with my sorry ass otherwise.”

“It’s that attitude that’s going to get you in trouble.” Lila shook her head as she stood over him.

Niko glanced up at her, his golden eyes meeting her green ones. “Maybe that’s what I’m looking for.”

Sept. 4th, 4:00AM –

The couch was hard, and Lila was not asleep. Niko was in the singular bedroom just through the small door beside the refrigerator, and Lila watched it intently. That was her job, after all, to protect her young master at all times. But it was also her job to be able when it counted, and it wouldn’t do if she was running on no sleep. She turned away from the door. Worrying wasn’t going to do her any good.

And yet, she did worry. Niko was headstrong, and reckless. It was like he didn’t care if he lived or died. He’d always been a little like that, but the trait had become especially pronounced now that they were no longer children. He’d have to grow up sooner or later, because Lila wouldn’t always be around to protect him. She was under no false pretenses; she knew that Niko would outlive her. In her line of work, it was a rare soul who lived to see retirement. But she worried about what he would do when she was gone.

It seemed like such a long time ago when Niko’s father had called her into his office and told her to protect his son at all costs. “With your life, if need be.” He’d said. “Can you do that? That boy is future of Borozov line.” He intoned.

Nodding instantly, Lila didn’t even have to consider the question. She didn’t care about ‘preserving the Borozov line,’ or anything like that, though they were her adoptive family. But she would do anything for Niko. He had saved her life, after all. This was the least she could do to repay him.

The floor creaked suddenly, a few feet from her, and in a split second Lila had snatched her sword from its case and pushed it against the intruder’s throat. She had expected the Mirellis to find them, of course, but not this soon.

“You gonna kill me, Lila?” the intruder asked, and Lila immediately lowered the sword as she saw that it was only Niko, empty glass in hand.

“Young master, my apologies.” She bowed slightly, lowering her head.

He smiled blearily, heading over to the sink. “You watch too many samurai movies, you know that?” After filling his glass with water, Niko sat at the small, round table.

“Can’t sleep?” Lila asked, sitting opposite him.

“Nah,” he rubbed his eyes. “You?”

She shook her head. They sat for a long minute, each finally able to process the events of the previous day. Lila blinked, trying not to think about how close they’d been to not sitting here right now.

Apparently, Niko was thinking along the same lines, for he sighed and shook his head. “We are way too young for this PTSD crap.”

“You’re probably right,” Lila replied. “I hadn’t really noticed.”

“Look at it this way,” Niko leaned his elbows on the slightly greasy table. “We’re both only seventeen and between the two of us are more hang-ups than the US government.”

Lila snorted.

“Well?” He chuckled too. “I mean, most kids our age are worried about college or what Michelle said about Becci, and we almost died yesterday.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Lila shrugged.

“Have you ever wondered what it’d be like to be normal? You know, play video games, walk home with friends and not have to worry about hit-squads intercepting you on the way?”

“Occasionally,” she admitted thoughtfully. “But never for long. I’d get bored, being normal.”

Niko laughed out loud, a great sound that almost shook the room. “That is one good thing, I guess. There is never dull moment in Russian Mafiya!” He dropped into an accent and raised his glass like they’d seen his father and uncles do so many times.

In that moment—increasingly so over the last few years, for that matter—Lila was struck by how much Niko resembled his father. It only happened occasionally, when he was stressed or not paying attention, and when he wasn’t actively obscuring it behind a wall of self-deprecation and apathy, but Niko had a darkness about him that scared people, just the same as the senior Borozov.

But Lila would never tell him that.

Sept. 4th, 9:00AM –

In one hand, Niko held a toothpick, which he idly clenched between his teeth as he flipped pancakes with the other. It made Lila chuckle, though she didn’t quite know why. Perhaps it was his rumpled dress shirt, suspenders hanging from his pants, and intense concentration juxtaposed with the sweet smell drifting over to the table. Pancakes were just about the only thing Niko knew how to make, but that was one more than Lila, so who was she to say anything?

“Dick biscuits.” He swore as he flipped one of the fluffy cakes over, only to discover that he’d burned it black. “Got the stove too hot. Stupid, cheap electric...”

“Dick biscuits? That’s a new one,” Lila said, smiling a little. This was a somewhat rare occurrence for her, and Niko almost looked surprised as he turned towards her.

“Well yeah,” the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “When one has mastered the art of foul language, one needs to get creative, lest the act of profanity become stale.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Master of Swearing,” Lila replied, “your pancakes are still burning.”

He swore again, and they ended up eating burnt pancakes. Lila didn’t mind, she had learned never to take a meal for granted. Niko, on the other hand, was currently attempting to drown out the burnt flavor with Aunt Marma’s Totally Genuine Maple Syrup™.

Lila chuckled, under her breath, and Niko glanced up. “What’s so funny?” He asked.

“Nothing,” Lila shook her head. “I was just thinking about the first time we had pancakes.”

Leaning back in his chair, Niko looked up at the ceiling, nodding. “Yeah. That was right after we took you in.” He broke into a grin. “The cook brought them out and you just started bawling.”

“I’d been living on the streets for years. I hadn’t seen anything so beautiful since my mother died.” Lila scratched her cheek, embarrassed.

“And I thought that you hated pancakes. But as soon as you pulled yourself together you just started chowing down.”

“The cook even forgot to add sugar, not that it really mattered at that point.” Lila shook her head.

“Do you miss her?” Niko asked suddenly. “Your mother, I mean.”

Lila stared at him for a second. “Do you miss yours?”

“Well yeah.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Sometimes. But I hardly knew her, you know? I can’t really mourn for someone I didn’t know.”

“So, there’s your answer.”

He shook his head. “And somehow you’ve brought it back to me again.”

“That’s my job.” She shrugged. “To be a shadow, not a person. I am merely an extension of you, a reflection.”

“Oh, is that why I like you so much?” He smirked. Covering up his feelings again.

Best for Lila to change the subject. “Shut up and eat your pancakes. They’re getting cold."

Sept. 6th, 3:00PM –

“But there’s more!” The overenthusiastic spokesman shouted through the tiny box in the corner. “Buy the Super Hydro Pumper™ now and we’ll throw in a toaster for free. Yes, that’s right. Absolutely free!”

“I know!” Niko shouted at the screen. “I heard you the first five times.” He flopped back listlessly on the couch. “I’m pretty sure I know your shtick better than you do at this point!”

Lila, who was only half-pretending to be half-asleep in the little corner of the couch that she had been gradually shoved into, nodded. They had been camping out in this small, dull room for three days now, and the boredom was beginning to wear on them both. Worst of all, there had been no contact from Ivan in that time. But there was really nothing they could do about it now. So they waited.

Meanwhile, the infomercial had continued onto its next segment. “Oh, go on!” Niko raised his arms in the air. “What else could the Super Hydro Pumper™ possibly be able to do? Cure cancer maybe? Solve world hunger? Tell me now, oh gods of consumerism!”

“This whole thing is rather trite,” Lila admitted. “It’s hard to believe that anyone really buys into this thing.”

“And yet they do!” Niko said, exasperated. “Forget the guns and drugs, we need to get into cheap, plastic crap instead!”

“It is utterly fascinating just how much this commercial makes me not care.”

“What is it that you really care about, Lila?” Niko asked, sitting up and turning to her. “I can never tell.”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “What is it that you care about?”

“Oh no,” he shook a finger at her, “we are not doing this again. Answer the question.”

Shrugging, Lila stared straight at him. “You. I thought that was obvious.”

“Well, this is certainly an unexpected time to confess your undying love to me,” Niko grinned. Cheeky bastard.

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do,” he shook his head, mock surprised. “You’d better kiss me now before you break my heart.” He leaned forward, making a stupid face. “Kiss me, kiss me!”

“Oh my god stop.” She pushed him backwards, chuckling. “I’ve answered your question,” she held him back easily with one hand. “So what is it that you care about? I’m genuinely curious.”

The smile fell off his face, and Niko sat back, thinking. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I don’t really care about my family, or what we do. I just kind of do it because that’s what’s expected of me.”

“I understand that feeling, young master.”

“And there you go with the samurai movies again.” Niko broke out into a smile once more.

“I like samurai movies,” she said. “I relate to them a lot more than most people. It makes me... happy, I suppose, to imagine myself as a warrior honorably protecting my master.”

“You know you could just leave if you wanted to, right?” Niko asked. “You’re not a Borozov. You could just walk away.”

Lila shook her head. “I wouldn’t even consider it. Your ‘sorry ass’ would get killed if I wasn’t around.”

“So you do really care about me.” Niko wiggled his eyebrows.

Lila smiled. “I never said I didn’t.”

Sept. 7th, 1:00AM –

There was a knock at the door. Lila listened, and heard the specific combination that meant it was safe to open it. “Niko,” she hissed, nudging him. He’d fallen asleep on the couch an hour earlier, and Lila had decided not to wake him. “Niko!” Now she lightly punched him on the arm.

“Wha...?” He mumbled.

“The door.”

Immediately, he was awake. The two of them stood and slunk closer, listening. The knock came again, in the same, agreed pattern. Niko glanced at Lila, who nodded, and he opened the door.

A large man stumbled in, looking harried. At first, Lila thought that it must be Ivan, but as she looked again, it couldn’t be. Ivan was large, but most of that was due to his broad, muscular shoulders. This man was large in an entirely different way.

“Vincent?” Niko asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to move you to a new safe house,” he said, his tone urgent. “This one’s been compromised. It’s the Mirellis. They know you’re here.”

“Shit,” Niko swore. “Alright then, let’s—”

Lila’s eyes narrowed. “Wait.” She held an arm in front of him. “Where is Ivan? He was supposed to be our contact.”

“He got caught up with the Mirellis so he sent me instead,” Vincent replied calmly, but his eyes darted back and forth between the two nervously. “What’s the holdup? Let’s go.”

“No, she’s right.” Niko shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like Ivan at all. He’s always been a sucker for doing things properly. He’d never send someone else to do his job.”

Vincent seemed to deflate a little as he sighed. “I was hopin’ you two would make this nice and easy, but I guess we have to do it the hard way, huh?” He whipped out a gun with one hand and grappled Niko into a headlock with the other. “I’ve got orders to take you to Don Mirelli, and you’d better come too.” He waved the gun briefly in Lila’s direction before placing it against Niko’s head.

“So you were a Mirelli this whole time?” Niko asked, his lip curling upwards in disgust.

“Born and raised.”

“I should’ve known. You always smelled too much like a filthy mutt to be one of us.”

“Say that again, runt bastard.” Vincent renewed his grip on the gun.

Heart pounding, Lila almost couldn’t look away from the cold metal pressed against her master’s head. No, she had to focus. Where was her sword? In reach, lying on its open case behind the couch. But if she moved, Niko would die. So she waited.

“Both of you come nice and slow now. There’s a car waiting downstairs, and we’re all gonna take a little ride”, Vincent’s voice wavered.

“Young master?” Lila asked, awaiting the order to act.

Niko’s lips tightened as he closed his eyes. “Kill him.”

As Lila nodded, Vincent’s hand began to shake. “Don’t move, or I’ll blow your boyfriend’s brains out.”

But Lila didn’t have to. She grabbed the knife strapped to her thigh and threw it across the room. It cut a deep gash into Vincent’s hand, causing him to drop the gun as he cursed, while Niko, a mere two inches away, didn’t even flinch. In one swift movement, Lila had swiped her katana from its case and pinned the man to the door that was just behind him. Through his chest.

After a minute, Lila withdrew her sword, and the body fell to the ground with a sickening thump as blood smeared down the white door. There was a moment of silence. Niko and Lila stared down at the mess.

She nudged the body, just to make sure he was really dead. A small stream of blood trickled from the man’s lips. No coughing or gagging. Undeniably passed.

But just as Lila opened her mouth to confer with Niko, she heard a noise. A car horn. Lila froze. That’s right. He had a car outside, with backup no doubt. “The car,” she whispered.

Niko nodded, and held up a finger. He reached down for Vincent’s gun, then moved over to the couch as Lila slid on her boots, reaching between the couch cushions to grab a second pistol, which he stuck in his coat. “I’ll back you up. Let’s go.”

Stepping over the body, Lila and Niko crept through the white door, now thoroughly stained with a long red streak down the middle. The hallway seemed clear. Lila held her katana at the ready, its light blade catching the glow of the neon sign through the window ahead of them. Niko motioned the all-clear, and they both tip-toed quietly towards the stairs, Lila cringing as Niko stepped on a creaky spot.

Lila reached the small, grimy window, and glanced down to the street below, past the smiling goat constructed with glowing lines. One story below was a black sedan with tinted windows, though by the light of the sign through the sun roof Lila could see one person sitting in the driver’s seat. A Mirelli clearly; she could tell by the greased-back hair and the cologne so strong that she could smell it all the way up here. She opened the window, and kicked in the bug screen.

Niko shook his head, knowing exactly what she was about to do. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But it’s our best chance to take him by surprise.”

“I’ll meet you down there.”

“You’ve got thirty seconds.” Lila began to count under her breath as Niko ran. Ten, she heard Niko reach the bottom of the stairs and get into position. Twenty, Lila planned her trajectory accordingly to the height of the car and the position of the man in it. Twenty-five, the man the man shuffled in the driver’s seat awkwardly, trying to get a glimpse over his shoulder. Twenty-eight, he turned on the radio, twenty-nine, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

Thirty. Lila braced herself against the window, and jumped. She stuck her feet out straight below like she was leaping into water, and a second later, crashed directly into the sunroof. It shattered into tiny pieces, most too small to actually hurt her as she fell. She muttered thanks for safety features under her breath as she wrapped her legs around the driver to catch her fall.

“What the—” was all the driver could get out before she held her katana against his throat.

From the left, there came a tapping on the car window. The driver turned. Niko was just outside, smiling as he pointed the gun at his head. The driver rolled down the window. “Hi,” was all Niko said before he placed the gun against his head and fired.

The silencer caught most of the sound, but Lila still winced anyway.

“Damn.” Niko muttered, looking at the remains of the man’s brains splattered all over the passenger’s window. “I was hoping that would go better.”

Lila climbed back through the sunroof. “Start walking. Quickly.”

They did, down the road and didn’t look back. Lila jumped at a dog barking in the distance. She was sure someone must have heard that. But as they waited, the night remained quiet. They didn’t talk for several minutes, not until they were well out of the way.

“What do you think really happened to Ivan?” Lila broke the silence finally.

“Best guess?” Niko looked away. “He’s probably dead.”

Lila glanced down at the pavement, a silent prayer for him, wherever he was. “So what do we do now? No doubt Vincent told the Mirellis our location.”

“Well, we could go back to the city,” Niko suggested, pausing under a street lamp. “Try to get back to my father before they kill us, or...”

“Or what?” Lila raised an eyebrow.

Shrugging, Niko glanced up at her. “Or we could just disappear for a while. What suburb is this?”

“Ede Valley, I think.”

“That’s as good a place as any.” Niko smiled, though his eyes remained dull. “Sounds like fun, right? You and me, fugitives on the run?”

She nodded. “Oddly enough, yes.”

“Better not get too used to it. When all’s said and done, we might not want to go back.”

“Perhaps not, young master,” Lila chuckled. They were silent again for a moment, the weight of the night slowly landing on their shoulders as they thought of what transpired. But they couldn’t just stand there forever, could they. And so they started walking. Just where, they didn’t really know, and Lila really didn’t care. Right now, all she wanted was to just disappear into the cold, quiet night.

#Ede Valley #writing #Niko Borozov #Lila Finn

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forestwater87 · 7 years ago

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if you draw basic refs of the punk kids then i’ll draw them bc i don’t want to mess them up rip

Wait are you serious?! I’m gonna cry that’s amazing.

As for refs . . . I meant it when I said I can’t draw (there is evidence. It ain’t pretty), but uhhhhhh I can describe them and you can pick your favorite? Since the descriptions in the fic are intentionally pretty sparse. (under the cut because I know me and I will ramble)

Honestly, you can’t possibly get it wrong. If you actually went to the trouble of drawing a 2-second doodle I would actually cry real human tears. I tried to include a “one thing that matters” so you’d feel like as long as you had that one little element you nailed it and can go nuts with the rest, but . . . seriously. There is no wrong here.

Sooooooo this is gonna be kinda . . . vague? I’m sooooo not a visual person, and “don’t spend paragraphs describing your character’s appearance” has been so hammered into my brain that everything about this feels wrong, but . . . here ya go:

David:

What you get in the fic: “David with the short red mohawk and the little rings marching up the shell of his ear and the spiked leather jackets and the tight black jeans and the giant, grass-stained, door-kicking-in boots that must weigh half as much as he does.”

“shaking up the sleeve of his jacket, which hangs from his skinny frame”

“There’s a greyscale rose on his hand, beautiful and intricate. ‘Is this real?’ she asks, twisting his hand to watch the thorny stem snake around his wrist.“

What I was picturing: Literally that one guy from that one photo. You know the one.

What else is there to go on? Well . . . Jasper draws lots of fake tattoos all over him since he can’t afford to get real tats. (And yes, they’re dating, so . . . all sorts of places. Just saying I’m sorry please don’t throw tomatoes) Some are black n white, some have color; if David picks the colors, they’re mostly earthy palettes, lots of green and brown and blue; if Jasper picks the colors, they will be loud and heavily feature pink and yellow. He’s a very . . . twinky sort of punk, as you’d expect. Doesn’t bother trying to look like he didn’t spend 2 hours looking like this, because he did and he’s honest! But he likes shiny things and nature things and doesn’t really care that those don’t go together all that well.

The one thing that matters: Oversized black leather jacket. Or mohawk. Fuck, both of those.

Jasper:

What you get in the fic: “dressed in and pierced with and dyed so many colors he’s almost hard to look at”

“blue-tipped blond waves”

“Jasper’s shoes (the pink one. The other is a completely different style, Converse instead of a black knee-high heeled boot (how does he walk?) with bright orange laces).”

What I was picturing: Honestly, I’m not sure. I mean . . . we’ve all seen Counselor Jasper. And we’ve all seen Vaporwave Jasper. That, but . . . more spikes, I guess?

What else is there to go on? I may have also googled “neon punk” to figure out what on earth this boy could possibly look like and then fallen in love with a bunch of different style ideas. Anything flashy and weird will make Jasp happy.

The one thing that matters: Heels. At least one heel. Also he’s a bit of a beefy boy and I love that about him. (Shit, that’s two as well. I’m bad at this.)

Bonquisha:

What you get in the fic: “Bonquisha’s hair — the side that isn’t shaved, that is, and falls in long dark dreads interwoven with red sparkling tinsel”

What I was picturing: You know how hard it is to find dark-skinned female punks? There aren’t a lot.

What else is there to go on? Bright dramatic makeup and heavy jewelry, mostly. That oughta do it. Oooh and more spikes! Spikes everywhere! (I’m a sucker for a couple facial piercings, too; on all of them, but especially my girl Bon.)

The one thing that matters: Seriously, as long as half her head is shaved (or cornrowed; just real close to her head) and she’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her, you’ll be just fine.

Dirty Kevin:

What you get in the fic: red hoodie, “with green-rimmed eyes and artful stubble”

What I was picturing: Honestly? Half the original Dirty Kevin from the show and half @doritofalls’ high school AU version.

What else is there to go on? Um . . . Dirty Kevin. I don’t know how exactly to punk-ify this boy, so please go fucking nuts with this wild child. He just always struck me as a little too lazy to go full punk, but . . . there’s gotta be a laid-back, less-effort-filled version of punk, right?

The one thing that matters: Hoodie! Give the boy a hoodie! And sass!

Gwen:

What you get in the fic: Nothing, basically. She has a camera around her neck and that’s about it.

What I was picturing: Gwen? Seriously I put so little effort into the characters the less punk they got, I am so sorry.

What else is there to go on? Okay, no, let me think . . . I imagine high-school Gwen’s style was a mix of wannabe-artsy and “my mom picked this out for me” (literally; Gwen’s mom is rather controlling). So a nice miniskirt and an oversized man’s button-down with the sleeves rolled up; a cute preppy blouse with shitty overalls on top; flirty sundresses with heavy boots. That kinda thing.

You know those art challenges where you choose a letter and a number for the artist to draw? Basically anything on any of those, toned down for a high-schooler’s budget and fear of social rejection.

The one thing that matters: Seriously, do whatever and she’ll be adorable. This is Gwen we’re talking about here. There is no way to do Gwen wrong.

Also please please please don’t feel pressured to draw anything! I had a lot of fun writing all this out, so it was a good time all-around regardless of if anything comes from it. :)

#campcamp punk au #cc david #cc gwen #cc jasper #cc bonquisha #cc dirty kevin #cc kevin #ask forest #hufflepunk #Anonymous

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myrcury · 7 years ago

Text

Meme

Lifted from @trelobita

rules: answer these 85 questions and tag 20 people

— what was your last…

1. drink: Water

2. phone call: Called for movie ticket info for Isle of Dogs

3. text message: from the boyfriend: “I’m glad I managed to make you feel even a little bit happier today. :D”

4. song you listened to: Score from Passengers, specifically “Spacewalk.” It’s so beautiful. <3

5. time you cried: A few nights ago. Just feeling lonely and blah. :/

— have you ever…

6. dated someone twice: Not... really? Technically. I guess. We dated and then became FWB for a long time, so. :/

7. kissed someone and regretted it: Nah, not really regretted. Thought I probably shouldn’t have, but easily let it go lol.

8. been cheated on: Yup.

9. lost someone special: Yes.

10. been depressed: Yes. For a long time. Doing a lot better these days though.

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Threw up the morning after, not during the actual drinking uh... event.

— fave colours

12. All shades of pink

13. Rainbow

14. Black and white together

— in the last year have you…

15. made new friends: Yes

16. fallen out of love: No

17. laughed until you cried: Yesss so much XD

18. found out someone was talking about you: Yes. :P

19. met someone who changed you: I’m a bit more self-conscious and less stingy with my time because of the bf. It’s a good thing, really.

20. found out who your friends are: Sorta?

21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list: Nope

— general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl: A good number of them.

23. do you have any pets: Two dogs live here but I’m not particularly fond of either of them. They’re my sister’s Shih-Tzu and my mom’s Pug. They’re okay. I miss -my- dog though. :(

24. do you want to change your name: Not officially but I do prefer to go by my nickname. (Steph vs. Stephanie)

25. what did you do for your last birthday: Had a weekend of birthday since my birthday fell on a craft show day. Had dinner at Golden Corral and spent time with the family at home.

26. what time did you wake up today: at noonish.

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Drawing and listening to music in my room.

28. what is something you can’t wait for: Convention weekends with out-of-state friends that I don’t get to see very often.

30. what are you listening to right now: Closing credits for Thor: Ragnarok. What a weird movie. Hulk was adorable though. <3

31. have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I went to school with two boys named Michael and Thomas. Their dad went by Tom, as I recall. So yes.

32. something that’s getting on your nerves: Blissfully not this exact moment, because they’re both asleep, but I can’t stand the sound of these two dogs licking. They do it almost constantly. .-.

33. most visited website: Facebook, Tumblr... Mostly use the apps though.

34. hair colour: Dark purple, lighter purple, blue, faded pink, and neon green. At the moment. XD

35. long or short hair: Short hair on the left side which is taking an annoying amount of time to grow out... longer on the right. Thinking about shaving it back down again.

36. do you have a crush on someone: Only on my adorable boyfriend. :)

37. what do you like about yourself: My eyes, my glasses, my creativity, and how far I’ve come in accepting myself warts and all.

38. want any piercings: Not really anymore. Used to want an eyebrow piercing.

39. blood type: I have no idea.

40. nicknames: Steph, Rexy

41. relationship status: Dating someone. “Taken” I guess? Hate that word though. Haz a boyfriend. XD

42. sign: Virgo

43. pronouns: she/her I suppose, though I do identify as genderfluid.

44. fave tv show: I’m most recently in love with Shameless. Gallavich is going to break me, I just know it. ;_; At least it’s canon. Anyway I also love watching Jeopardy.

45. tattoos: I have one just above my right ankle. Little winking star with devil horns and tail and angel wings and halo. Little thing I drew when I was 15, and got it inked when I turned 25. I want more though.

46. right or left handed: I’m a righty. 47. ever had surgery: Yep. Several.

48. piercings: Are cool? Meh. I only have my ears done twice.

49. sport: Not my jam.

50. vacation: All my life is one big vacation. >_> *shrug* I’ll probably never get to travel anywhere awesome. Would love to go just about anywhere though.

51. trainers: Are we talking about shoes or people? ... Yeah leaving with Trel said cuz. Eh?

— more general

52. eating: Nothing at the moment but I broke my “no bread” rule for only like the 3rd time so far this year, earlier. *shrug* I was hungry and a PB sammich sounded good.

53. drinking: Water

54. i’m about to watch: The rest of Shameless without my family who are all also hooked on it as well but who knows when we’ll all be able to sit and watch together again GRRNNNGHineedit. >_>

55. waiting for: This list of questions to reach it’s end so I can go to bed XD

56. want: To ... do a lot of things... To know why my brain is so foggy these days, for one.

57. get married: I think it might be nice. I saw a thing the other day that said marriage is like a neverending sleepover party with your best friend, or something like that. I’d love to think that’s true.

58. career: Art for life.

— which is better

59. hugs or kisses: Depends on the person and the situation...

60. lips or eyes: Again, depends on the person and situation.

61. shorter or taller: Taller than me, ideally. But the bf is an inch shorter and we make it work.

62. older or younger: I wish I was younger. :(

63. nice arms or stomach: Armssss... I have such a fetish D:

64. hookup or relationships: Relationships. Hookups and me don’t mix. I’m demisexual.

65. troublemaker or hesitant: Always so hesitant. Inner Steph is an upstart though for sure. XD

— have you ever

66. kissed a stranger: Yep. See #7 lol

67. drank hard liquor: Yes

68. turned someone down: Yes

69. sex on first date: Newp.

70: broken someone’s heart: I don’t think so.

71. had your heart broken: Yes, and it hurts like no other pain in the world, let me tell you.

72. been arrested: Nope.

73. cried when someone died: Yes.

74. fallen for a friend: Yes

— do you believe in

75. yourself: I do, after all this time and a lot of struggle to get to a place where I do. It’s hard and it’s being tested real bad lately but... Hanging in there.

76. miracles: I do.

77. love at first sight: In terms of romantic love, I only believe in attraction and infatuation at first sight. However, the feeling you have when you hold your baby for the first time or your new puppy gives you a kiss for the first time…. both of those qualify as very real love at first sight. <3 ... Trel. That’s such a great answer I’m just gonna leave it. XD <3

78. Santa Claus: I do sort of still believe, in a way. I think we all become Santa Claus when we do generous or helpful things for one another at holiday time. And the rest of the year if we’re good people like that, then we’re just good people without seasonal connotation lol.

79. angels: I do believe, yes.

— misc

80. eye colour: Very dark brown

81. best friend’s name: I’ve got 3 best friends and they know who they are.

82. favourite movie: I can’t name only one. I’ll name the most recent ones. The Shape of Water, Passengers, Chappie, TMNT lol

83. favourite actor: Doug Jones. He’s amazing and such a wonderful man. :)

84. favourite cartoon: “Rick and Morty” at the moment lol

85. favourite teacher’s name: LIFE the greatest teacher of all

if you’re reading this, consider yourself tagged <3

#steph irl #meme #survey #getting to know you #getting to know all about you

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