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tokkiwrites · 9 months ago

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ㅤ𔓕ㅤㅤꪆৎㅤ𓈒ㅤ THREE'S A CROWD ＼ ㅤ♰ ㅤ⊹ㅤ ︵

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x f!reader x Francisco 'Catfish' Morales

summary: your dad befriended some nice customers from his bar. fast-forward a year, they're all you can think about.

tags: pwp honestly, threesome mfm (YEEPPEEE) dbf! Santiago & Frankie, afab!reader w she/her pronouns, age gap, pet names (lots!!), Santiago has a thing with you being 'pure', virginity loss, reader is literally horny 24/7, doms! santi and frankie, sub! reader, rougher santi and softer frankie ig, dirty talk, slapping, spit (for like a sentence), choking, hair pulling, double penetration (in the same hole), head m receiving, voyeurism, unprotected p in v (wrap your dingaling!!), masturbating in the mirror for like a bit, lmk if i missed anything!!

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ ive been on an oscar isaac rush for the past few weeks, and i had to. first time writing ab a threesome...sooo. im trying to write in different ways, so if it all seems jittery, apologies!!! this has like 3.6k words. its not proofread!! I TRIED MY BEST :( enjoy !!

'i need it.' was becoming like a mantra for you now. every day, needy for touches and attention, those dirty reflections that never left your mind.

of course, you've done things with boys. well, one boy, your boyfriend, and those things being your average makeout sessions and hand jobs, nothing more. you knew what sex was, of course, but the urge to experience the rougher side of it was overflowing by the day. and you know these wishes started appearing and consuming as soon as your dad befriended two customers from the bar you help him run, Santiago and Frankie. One year ago, you saw them only three times, maybe four in the span of 3 months, but their visits were more and more frequent and well, that's how their friendship started.

At first you were skeptical, unsure of their means, but you missed seeing your dad so happy and when you got to know them you realized they were good. What mattered was your dad being less lonely.

all though, that kind of changed eight months ago when, in the dead of july, you witnessed them helping your dad building a small summerhouse in your backyard. There's nothing wrong with that. Just seeing them both sweaty, with muscles bulging and hands dirty, woke something inside of you. and the fact that you broke up with your first boyfriend ever, that you were together with since 17, didn’t quite help.

So yeah, you were happy for your dad, but hated that you had to see them almost everyday and in turn sit hours on end with soaked panties on and, like a broken record, playing fantasies in your mind of these older men doing as they please with you. and you don't know why these thoughts plagued your mind just now, at the age of 21, but it was getting in the way of every aspect of your life, these wild things making you want to live inside your fantasy world and never wake up.

Today was no different: another late night at the bar. your dad went home early to catch some sleep since tomorrow he'll have to leave for three days to help his brother, your uncle, move into his new home. That's fine. What's getting you is him assigning his friends to 'keep an eye on you' like you're some sort of child. but, somehow, you can get over that. What you can't get over is how are you going to survive three whole days being just in their presence? when your dad's here, it's different. You don't need to spend that much time in their proximity, but this? you'll have to lock yourself in your room to keep those thoughts at bay.

you we're getting lost within your mind again.

what if you were to tell them about these thoughts? not that they're about them, just... you know, boy advice?

that's insane. and stupid.

would they accept should you propose you three entangled in some...activities? they'd for sure disagree- you were their friend's daughter, and whilst they didn't know you for that long it for sure didn't sound right.

what if they agree, though? one night. one night for all of your dreams to become reality..but you couldn't live after that knowing what you'd be missing forever. they'd leave after. what if you'd beg for them to stay, to have them do things even more carnal to you? if you begged maybe and gave your freedom to them.

These kinds of thoughts cloud your mind every day, and now, they are making you forget about the real world, where you were supposed to serve Santiago a glass of whiskey. as the sound of a low chuckle pulls you out of your trance, you feel liquid pooling around your palm that was settled on the bar. and when it finally awakes you, your eyes meet him again. your heart jolts, and it gets you lightheaded again.

"Oh, I'm- god, I'm so sorry Mr.Garcia...I don't know what happenedㅡ" You panic, wiping hurriedly the bar, prompting yet another laugh from the man. " 's fine, doll, don't worry. all though... your dad might turn into the reincarnation of Lucifer if he sees how much whiskey you wasted." he leans over for some tissues, wanting to help you.

"No, it's fine, I'll do it-" you smile shyly, placing your hand on top of his to stop him from moving, this in turn made him tilt his head up only a little, which awarded him with a quick glance at your barely exposed cleavage.

'untouched.' he thought to himself.

"I won't say anything if you don't." your ears pick up his voice, and for a moment, you forgot about what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah, I'm not gonna...say anything." Your lips curl into a shy smile. " Hurry and clean this up. I'm gonna take you home since you gotta close anyway."

oh, lord.

"no, that's fine. I can walk-"

"said I'll take you home." you breathe out a quiet 'oh, my god' because you're sure you've just had an orgasm from his voice only.

"See, I know you have manners ‘cause your dad taught you to listen to your elders, seems I just gotta get a little stern with you, huh?" you shake your head, not sure what to make of what he just said, but you finish up cleaning as the door opens to reveal Frankie. "why're you still here, man?" he inquired as he took off his baseball cap to arrange his perfectly curly hair better.

you can't possibly be serious.

"on duty." he laughs and points towards you. "Ah."

"You know... my dad hasn't left yet, so you're not 'on duty' as far as I know. Also, he said to keep an eye on me. Not be my bodyguards!" You try to scold them in a way. At the end of the day, you are an adult, right? "Easy miss." Frankie puts his hands up."I just arrived.”

"Yeah, well I am leaving. Alone! So please-" you move your hands as a signal for them to leave. "Excuse us for ever bothering you, miss. May we at least stay here until you close?” Santiago sarcastically banters. "I guess.." You shrug, finishing washing your hands and putting the glasses away.

you hate how much you like them. and how much you want them to ravage you. if possible, you'd let them both take you right there on the bar counter, whilst potential passers-by saw you get fucked into oblivion.

9AM, your dad left, and you can't seem to fall back asleep. the bar will be closed for these these days, so you have nothing to do except steep into your own boredom. You decide to make yourself a cup of coffee and grab a book from the shelf. With your coffee in hand, you head out to the backyard, where you settle into a comfortable chair. As you sip your coffee and immerse yourself in the pages of the book, you find solace in the gentle breeze and the sounds of nature around you, embracing the quiet moments of the morning.

this works for a while, but there's an inexplicable itch you want to scratch. with a loud whine that scares some little birds away, you head back inside to find other things to do. "Please, i can't keep on thinking about them. What is wrong with me?" You scream whisper at yourself whilst looking in the mirror places in your hallway, "like..genuinely!"

as you stare a bit more into the mirror, your hands make their way up your torso and to your breasts, nipping at your lower lip as you can't seem to ignore the warmth from between your thighs. you start imagining both of them having their way with you, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror as they pumped your holes full of their come. touching yourself more, light fingers make their way under the shorts you were wearing, finally catching a feel of how wet you are. you moan, knees buckling as you picture both men marking you as theirs in all ways. "p-please.. Santi, Frankieㅡ"

"my, what do we have here, huh?" your eyes open wide, and still in your pants and palm still over your sensitive nipple, as two other reflections in the mirror stare back at you. "Mr.Garcia, Mr.Moralesㅡ"

"Cut the shit, doll. I think we're way past that." he motions loosely towards the indecent position you were in. "You're lucky it was us and not your dad. '' Frankie states. "I'm so sorry, I don't even..I can'tㅡ" you stutter and turn around slowly to face them, arms now falling to your sides.

"You want us?" Frankie asks you in the most serious tone you've heard him. "I- what? Huh?" you're left speechless by this sudden interrogation.

"Do you want us to fuck you, doll?" Santiago reiterated. But you stayed quiet, head low, too embarrassed to admit your true intentions. was it wrong? certainly. but was it the only thing you've dreamed about since you first saw them? Of course.

"Why don't you answer? You act like a little slut and yetㅡ" He steps closer and Frankie soon follows. "You're too shy all of a sudden? We were the ones who walked in on you, you know? touching yourself in front of the mirror like a dirty whore, huh? what would your dad say, baby?" he taunts you whilst Frankie reaches his strong grip and tilts your head up to look them in the eyes. "You didn't answer the question, sweet girl."

it takes a few seconds, but you muster up a hushed 'yes', causing them to smirk. "Show us, baby. C'mon, tell us how bad you want it." Dizzy and drunk on arousal, you succumbed to their touch, kneeling at their feet and looking up, pleading with tearful eyes in a silent entreaty to do as they please with you. but they don't budge. They wait patiently for you to show them how desperate you can get. it all overflows you, the cold floor in contact with your knees, their scent, your rugged breaths. "Please, I want- need it. I need you...so bad. need you toㅡ use me" you rub your thighs together. "Please..?"

"for how long, baby, hm? since we first met? 'cause i know I've wanted to bend you over from the first moment I laid my eyes on the pretty thing you are." Frankie admits. " knew you had nothing else in this pretty head of yours, sweetheart. " Santiago laughs as he shoves your head lightly with his finger, causing you to whimper. "just wanna be fucked stupid, right? be our stupid, little fuck doll? that what you want?" and you nod in response, it takes you all of your power to not cry from how bad you want to feel them right now. "Ever done something like this?" and you shake your head no. "Shit. You poor little thing." he was right about you. He can feel his dick twitching at the thought of having you all splayed out, so innocent and untouched.

"We'll take care of you. But...we can't promise to be too gentle. All though I don't think “gentle” is what you want." Your eyes glimmer, and your head spins. Did you hear that right? Is this really happening, or are you having the most beautiful dream, and when you wake up, you'll be sorrowful for days?

They instruct you to get undressed, clothes falling to the floor as they force you to crawl onto the couch all whilst they watch, fully clothed. getting closer to you, their calloused hands explore each part of your warm body as trails of kisses leave you hanging onto them. "gonna ruin you, baby, you know that, yeah?" of course you know. you've been yearning for this moment for almost a year.

they proceed to get naked, Santiago positioning himself in front of you and Frankie a little to your side. You couldn't believe it. This was so much more than you imagined; they were both long and girthy, with Frankie being a little more veiny than Santiagoㅡ a sight that made you drool. this will forever be imprinted into your brain.

"You look like a dumb puppy staring like that." Frankie snorts. "Haven't seen a cock before?" he's getting cockier with his remarks, as he urges you to respond. "Yes, but.. n-ot soㅡ big.." your cheeks grow red as you see Santiago's dick jump from your words. "Stroking my ego like that baby... how 'bout you stroke my cock instead, hm? can you do that for me?" anything. you were willing to do it all for them, make them so proud, they'd never want to leave.

your shaky hands wrap, barely, around both their lengths, as you stare up at them whilst standing straight so your boobs are on full display for them to eat up with their hungry eyes. you do it slow, unsure if you're doing it good, licking some of the precum from their slits from time to time, swirling your tongue around eachㅡ putting on a show. "You've done your homework, huh? Do it a little too well for a virgin."

"c'mon, hands and knees, I wanna fuck this pretty mouth of yours." Santiago pushes you back as Frankie strokes himself. "Pretty thing" he says as two digits trail down your back and help you position yourself better onto the couch. Frankie finally places himself behind you, teasingly playing with your folds, letting out a soft 'fuck' whilst feeling how wet you were. "Stretched yourself out for use before we came, right, sweet girl? You want me to help you out a little moreㅡ?"

"Noㅡ! Please.." you eagerly interrupt. "You cockslut. Haven't had an eager little thing like you since I was in college." He laughs as he positions his length in line with your hot entrance, leaving kisses down your back he slips inside slowly, and you choke out a cry, eyes brimming with tears as a sting pangs through your whole body. "sh, sh..I know, baby. I know." Whispering gently, Santiago pulls himself down and cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. As your lips finally met, time stood still, the world faded away, and all that remained was the electrifying sensation of something within you igniting. It was a moment painted with the hues of passion and longing, a symphony of emotions echoing through your soul.

He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you as the pain slowly fades away and is replaced by pure pleasure. pulling away, he levels himself and taps on your chin for you to open your mouth. Santiago hisses, tugging harder at your hair as a response to your warm tongue enveloping the tip of his dick. "shit, baby, open up for meㅡ thaat's it. good girl."

shuddering in anticipation, you part your lips further, allowing him to push deeper inside. you were already a mess- drool dripping down your chin as he fucked your mouth like there was no tomorrow, tears that stained your cheeks as he pushed your head lower; muffled moans, how you were gagging around his length, pure music for both of them to listen to.

"look so pretty, baby, mouth stuffed with cock.." you stare up at him through wet lashes as he lands a slap to your right cheek.

At your other end, Frankie was cautiously moving back and forth, not wanting to succumb to the tightness of your wet cunt that almost sent him over the edge just as he put the tip in. "so fuckin' tight, baby. fuuck-" he groans as he hits a few hard strokes, your back arching against him and fingers digging into Santiago's hips. "you hear that?" Frankie asks, moving himself deep into your hot core, letting you catch the lewd and wet noises your cunt made wrapped around him. "she's so wet for us, isn't she? poor pussy.." you pathetically whine, as Santiago pulls your head back by your hair, making you stare straight into his darkened eyes. "don't go shy on us now, doll." he laughs, delivering another sharp slap to your already heated cheek. "you wanted to be a little slut and we're gonna treat you like one, soㅡ" he tuts, thrusting into your throat before he continues, "so, really, you should thank us." Santiago pulls away, leaving your needy mouth wide open, as if asking for his shaft in a desperate plea. Frankie firmly places his rough palms onto your ass before taking his length out and you cry at the sudden lack of them inside of you. "Go ahead," he adds. "Thank us, baby, c'mon."

you lick your lips, feeling yourself dripping down onto the mattress under you, too cock drunk and embarrassed to say anything. Santiago sighs, giving your cheek a few light slaps as his other palm slides down to wrap around your throat. you gasp, the feeling so new yet it felt like something you'd been missing for so long. "i didn't take you as the ungrateful type, little angel." he coos, as Frankie reaches under to cup your breasts into his hands. "are you an ungrateful little whore?" taunting you. " 'm n-ot.." you gasp, the lack of blood flow to your brain keeping you on the edge. "you're sure acting like one." the one at the forefront proceeds, running the tip of his leaking length along your puffy lips. "and here we were..-" he stops to slap it onto your left cheek "ready to reward you, hm?" they look at each other and chuckle, as if they weren't mocking you and the pitiful mess you were. "please, I'm-" you swallow. "I'm sorry, please. Thank you so muchㅡ ! just- please, please..."

"you sweet thing." Santiago intoned "sweet filthy thing."

"I say we fuck her like she wants us to." Frankie hums from behind you, his cock rubbing against your leaking entrance. "that's what you want, right baby? want us both inside your little pussy. stretch her out and ruin you for others.." and you whimper as your cunt pulses around nothing. "Yeah, she likes that. dirty fucking girl." It was raw and intense— how their command over you ignited an unyielding desire to please them, to make them proud.

they both pull away, and in no time, your body is squished between theirs, strong arms holding you down as if you're to run away. Santiago harshly cups your face, forcing your mouth open; He gathers some spit into his mouth, for him to promptly spit it down onto your tongue. He watches proudly as you swallow it all, his thumb running across your bottom lip. Frankie was biting your shoulder, sucking at your sensitive skin as he held you by your throat in a way that's sure to leave marks.

"lift your hips for us." Santiago commands, and you do as you're told. He tangles his hand around in your hair as his other one reaches down to his cock, aligning it with your entrance. He eases in, making you throw your head back onto Frankie, his fingers now massaging your sensitive clit. "Fuckingㅡ look at her, swallowing me in one go. pretty girl.." he coos, pulling your head back by the hair to face him. From behind you, Frankie slowly lifts you up with his knees and slips inside of you, both men moaning into your ears. Tears slip past your eyes again and you cry from the pain and pleasure as your mouth falls open, unsure if you're still conscious or not. "feels good, baby? us splitting you open right here where anyone from the street can see... you like that?" Frankie was right, all it took was for a taller person to stare a bit over the fence and they'd have front row seats at this show.

" 'course she does. little whores like her get off to that. bet she'd let us fuck her in front of her dad. let him see the slut his daughter actually is." With that, Santiago finally starts to move, his eyes rolling back as Frankie pushes down onto your lower belly, as he moves his hips. "So fucking deep, shitㅡ feel that?" he laughs "want us to come this deep, huh? have you all filled up till you can't hold anything inside of you.."

"p-pleaseㅡ"

"i could fuck this tight cunt forever, god." the other in front of you grunts, the hand from your hair now focused on your nipples and one placed firmly onto your hips. Frankie had one hand on your stomach and one onto your face, two of his fingers stretching your mouth open. You let yourself be taken over by them. it felt like you were flying so high and intoxicated by them, you weren't sure how you'd recover.

"thank you, thank youㅡ" you babble incoherently.

Santiago quickened his pace, causing Frankie to do the same, and with a few more strokes, they both bury themselves deep inside your core, white warm ropes painting your velvety walls. The sudden warmth and full feeling sends you completely over the edge, having you shake and pulse around them as you reach your orgasm.

you all sit there, them deep inside of you, you between them, breathing heavily as they planted kisses upon your skin. After you came down, you realized what happened, and worse, that it was over, a thought which made you let out a pathetic sob and clench around them out of desperation. "easy girl, we still have two days left." Frankie breaks the silence. "It was you who said you wanted us to use you, no? you who wanted to be our cum doll forever.." Santiago follows.

You're right where you want to be.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

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chronicallyonline101 · 3 days ago

Note

PLS I NEED A RIZ FULL DETAILED BACKSTORY 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

To tell the truth, i WAS going to say no ONLY CUZ Risotto's backstory will eventually be in my fic BUTTTT i realised his BG is in chapter 22, and thats... a long while away... SO i'm being nice and i'm gonna give you a sneak peek of chpt 22 :3 - WARNING THIS IS A FIRST DRAFT, so it has a lot of mistakes in it; it'll probably be different once it's put in DK

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, Character death, References to Self-harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Stalking.

Until it Sleeps:

Moonlight splays in through an open window. It brings with it rays of silence. Eyelids, heavy as leather, fall to a close, and envelop with them a warm cloud of comfort. But the soft glow of the night did little to soothe the cry of a child, torn fresh from the womb; swaddled in blankets, with the warming love of a mother and father. Yet that warmth would soon turn sour - the sky had been a dark crimson the night he was born.

Continued under the cut!

When a baby opens their eyes for the first time, they should see smiles and kisses. What he saw; stares of horror and gasps of upset, were the opposite of that. For when he had pried his eyelids apart for the first time, he revealed to his family the eyes of Baphomet; blood red, enveloped in a black cloak. He appeared to them a bad omen, a punishment for whatever sins they'd committed. They held no love for their problem child, and so, begged anyone they knew to rid themselves of him:

Despite being so young, Risotto could remember those first few years well. His name hadn't been Risotto Nero back then.

No amount of tossing or turning could ease the pressure in his head, where fatigued thoughts linger; rocky amongst a mind that crashed and rolled like the ocean during a mid-summer storm. He grew up obedient, polite, yet sleepless; his Aunt and Uncle were kind enough, but he feared their rejection more than anything. If his parents could throw him out without so much of a glance, what was stopping them?

As if he were on probation, he spent all his time offering the world a façade of himself. Eleven years he spent inside this shell, hidden inside himself - nobody knew who he truly was, nobody, aside from ---

"What are you thinking about?"

His cousin. His hair was the same white as that of an angels wings, and his eyes the same holy gold that lined the gates of Heaven. His cousin opposed everything he stood for, and yet younger than him by a year, lacked the awareness that adults held - his cousin wasn't afraid of him.

"My parents," He had mumbled, almost ashamed at having been caught so lost in his own thoughts. His gaze turned to look at the houses lining the streets they walked - Sicily was pretty during this time of the year, he had always appreciated the greenery in which the warm weather brought with, but his mind was elsewhere; his parents lived on this street. Just around the corner from where he was staying with his relatives.

Distracted, he didn't see the confused, disgruntled grimace that settled across his cousins face. "Why?"

He had asked. As far as he was aware, there was no need for the older boy to worry over people who would never bother involve themselves in his life. He didn't understand the pain his cousin felt.

Risotto remained quiet as the two passed the aforementioned abode. He kept his silence as the two rounded the corner, and when his cousin realised that he had nothing to say on the matter, changed the subject:

"I found my dad's record collection yesterday, after school," An evil, childish giggle passed his lips. His cousins words caught his curiosity: "Do you want to look at them with me?"

In the doorway of his relatives house, Risotto came to a halt. His silver brow furrowed, unsure.

"Are we allowed to do that?" He murmured. He didn't want to step out of line - those records belonged to his Uncle, he had no right to snoop around where he didn't belong. He'd never be able to forgive himself if he broke one, even accidentally; it would solidify his status as a bad omen to the family.

His cousin could only laugh at his hesitance, grabbing him by the sleeve so that he could forcibly drag him inside the house. "Of course it's allowed, if he wanted to hide them from us he would have put them somewhere other than his office!"

At the time, Risotto had wanted to argue against his cousins insistence; mentally, he had countered with the fact that the two probably shouldn't have been in his Uncle's office altogether. However, looking back on it, he was glad he had let his cousin take charge - it was that day, the cage he had built around himself slowly began to unlock.

The feel of thin plastic between his soft fingertips; scarlet and black, a name ringing through his head. It was so familiar, and yet, this had been the first time he had ever heard of the band. His eyes traced over the album, decorated as if it had been covered in blood, hardly appropriate for an eleven year old to be looking at - while he and his cousin had been busy moseying about the room, they'd hardly taken note of a third person slipping into the room.

"Kill 'Em All," The voice of his Uncle called out; Risotto near jumped out of his skin at the intrusion, scampering to put the album back in its place on the shelf. A grin graced the lips of his Uncle, eyes crinkling upward in joy. "It's Metallica's first album, you've got a good taste."

Upset that he had been caught where he shouldn't be, Risotto hardly registered his Uncle's amusement. He found his head tipping down to the floor in shame, apologies spewing from his mouth: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, this won't happen again---"

But his apologies were cut off by his Uncle's laughter. He brushed off Risotto's concern, instead, moving to grab at the album from the shelf.

"If you two wanted to listen to music, you could have just told me. No need to sneak around like little criminals!" He moved over to ruffle the white hair of his son; envy tugged at Risotto's heart at the sight, but was quickly settled when his Uncle played the music for them - he treated Risotto with kindness, he always did. But, this time it felt different.

Risotto had been disobedient - a menial crime, sure, but his parents would have taken dire offense to this kind of behaviour. All of a sudden, it was as if the crimson night had cleared; welcoming a warm sky, his turmoil soothed over and he found himself settling amongst the family of his Aunt and Uncle. They regarded him as if he were their own child, and he looked to them like a mother and a father.

No longer fearful for how he was perceived; he took an acute interest in music. Metallica was his favourite, he liked the guitar. On his twelfth birthday, he was gifted a small, acoustic guitar. His Aunt had saved up for him to have a years worth of lessons for it. Though it didn't sound the same as the loud, electric ones they used in all the songs he listened to - and as he learnt how to play, his cousin grew interested. The next year, he asked his parents for a drum set, and their small, two man band had began.

As strange as it was, Risotto truly felt as if that was where he belonged; in his Uncle's garage, delicately strumming the strings of his tattered guitar while his cousin bashed the soft paper of a drumkit. Though, as sweet as it was, it didn't please everyone:

In the kitchen of their shared home, Risotto's Aunt - a delicate woman, who shared the long white hair of his cousin - held a hand to her forehead. "Sweetheart,"

She uttered, tone hushed. Her husband looked to her curiously, and a desperate expression befell her. "Could you please tell them to do something else?" The sound of bashing and strumming and horrid singing echoed in the background, painkillers could no longer subdue her headache. "Anything else?"

Risotto's Uncle remained still, his gaze flickering between his wife and the door that would lead him to the garage. He simpered bashfully: "Oh, but they are having fun! The Summer will be over soon, and they won't have the time to play their little band---"

"---They've been playing for months," She pinched at her temple; her tone was growing sharp, she never usually took this tone. "Why can't they go to the arcade or something like normal kids."

"Hey, hey, let's not start that right now." Her husband grumbled, he didn't like insinuating that the two were anything other than ordinary - just because they were passionate about something didn't make them different. His brows eased to that of pity. He turned toward the garage door. "I'll tell them to do something else."

She didn't thank him as he left the room, only turning away sourly. She, on the other hand, didn't like it when her husband shut her down like that - the two couldn't avoid these problems forever. At this point, Risotto was fourteen, and their son thirteen. She knew they were both being bullied at school, and teenagers could be harsh; they lived in a world of their own creation, it wasn't healthy.

The sound of cymbals clashing grew louder and louder as their Uncle entered the room - he held his hands to his ears, unappreciative that his son had taken to doing what he liked to call a 'metal solo', where he banged his drumsticks against the cymbals repeatedly until he felt satisfied with how 'metal' it sounded.

"Hey you two..." He spoke up, but his words went ignored. The cymbal solo ended, but was quickly replaced by the rhythm of drums and guitar. The Uncle stepped further into the room, presenting himself in front of the two; he caught his sons gaze first, and when the sound of drumming came to a halt, Risotto quickly looked up - confused. "Hey, your mother has a headache, so I was thinking maybe you two could go play outside?"

Though reasonable, his words weren't received well. Pursing his lips, Risotto looked to his Cousin. The two shared a brief, silent glance, before turning to the Uncle once again.

"We need to practice," Was their reasoning, and the two felt just in this reason; how were they supposed to become famous if they stopped practicing every time someone got a headache? James Hetfield didn't stop for anyone, and neither would Risotto.

Huffing in frustration, his Uncle turned around. His gaze flittered about the room, only briefly, before landing on a small football - he quickly plucked it from the ground, bringing it to the two with a soft smile. "Why don't you play with this? It'd be nice to see you both in the sun, for once."

"But we're enjoying ourselves in here," His cousin pouted, his splintered drumsticks hovering over his kit in anticipation. "Can't mama go somewhere else?"

The two really were stubborn; refusing to leave despite how much his Uncle would plead. He knew his wife would tell him off for feeding into their bad habits; but then, he knew she would also be upset if he let them continue playing their instruments. So, rifling his hand through his pocket, he pulled out a few wads of lira - waving them in the direction of the two boys, their heads perked up immediately.

"If you play ball, you can have this."

In a matter of seconds, the instruments were discarded - tossed, delicately, to the side in favour of crowding around the Uncle. He raised his hands high in the air, frowning at the two indefinitely. Their expressions shifted to something akin to confusion, and so, he pointed toward the door to the kitchen: "You have to play outside for at least an hour before you get this."

Risotto and his Cousin shared a sour glance; it was hardly a fair deal, alas, the two wanted that money. Risotto thought that it could help them with their band - maybe they could buy some blank cassettes and record over them with their own music. It would bring them just that little bit closer to their dream. His cousin, on the other hand, thought of sweet shops and tat stores; Sicily was known for its markets, he couldn't wait to browse each stall and buy whatever he wanted!

So, despite their glares and grumbling, Risotto took the red ball from his Uncle. He and his cousin made their way out of the garage, greeting their now smiling Aunt as they crossed the threshold of their kitchen.

That day, despite the horror Risotto held in his heart, had been warm. Sun-dried leaves rattled across the pavement in a swift swoop, carried along by a gentle breeze that did little to dampen the heat radiated by the midday peak. And though most would have appraised it has a perfect day, it certainly didn't feel like that for Risotto.

Flinching, he brought a hand up to shield his delicate eyes from the sun - they were sensitive to light, a fact that had only driven his mother and father deeper in their belief that he was a sinful night-breed. He never liked being out much; Why torment himself with the outside world when he enjoyed sitting indoors with the lights dim?

Nonetheless, determined to pry lira from his Uncle's hands, he tossed the ball to the ground. Kicking it pathetically; it rolled across the lawn for a few short seconds, but was eventually brought to a halt by his Cousin, who planted his foot atop of the ball securely.

"Can we play Palla Priogioniera?" He plead, Risotto's brow could only furrow at the request.

"There's only two of us," He'd been hoping they'd play something simple, like kicking the ball back and forth or maybe tossing it in the air. Palla Priogioniera was a complex game, usually requiring a two small groups of people, rather than just the two that were there. Similar to dodgeball, the two would stand on either side and lob the ball at each other until one team ran out of players.

Despite Risotto's dismisal, his Cousin was certain that they could play; he bent down to pick the ball up, spinning it between his fingers playfully. "We can make it work!"

He threatened to toss it toward Risotto a few times, laughing at the short flinches it wrought from the older boy.

"I don't think we can." He grumbled. He appreciated the eagerness his cousin upheld, but still, there were only two of them - there was no possible way they could play that game.

While mulling over his own thoughts, Risotto hardly heard his Cousin yelp out a playful: "Look!" And he didn't take note of the ball that flew toward his face - had he known it was coming for him, he'd of dove to the ground to evade it's torment. To no avail, it slapped him square in the face.

When he fell backward, he winced, hardly registering the ball, which rolled off elsewhere; something warm trickled down his chin, and in horror, he brought his wrist up to wipe at the underside of his nose - streaks of red coated his sleeve. The action had dazed him, his vision blurred, and he found himself gripping at his skull in pain.

A startled gasp left his cousins throat. Darting toward Risotto, the younger boy trembled in panic:

"Sorry, I'm so sorry! I forgot you bleed," He reached out to try and help the older boy up, but his kind actions were brushed aside by Risotto, who grunted in pain. "Please don't tell mama and---"

"Just go get the ball." It took him a few moments, but eventually, Risotto levelled himself. As if he didn't have enough on his plate, as if his childhood hadn't already been wrenching enough - Risotto suffered from haemophilia - he hadn't enough iron in his body to thicken his blood; it ran thin like water, and it caused him to bleed excessively.

Looking back on it, Risotto had missed that time in his life, where his only concerns where whether his band would make it big or if he'd start bleeding at inconvenient times. It was frustrating, but it was simple, and that is why he had hated how he had treated his Cousin back then:

He knew his Cousin had meant no harm; he was only playing around, but he had hurt Risotto and in turn the older boy had neglected to throw caution in the water.

Get the ball.

He had ordered. His Cousin had obeyed: golden gaze flickering upward to scan the street - the ball had rolled away from their lawn, sitting narrowly on the road, just near where the street coiled around a corner.

Wanting to please Risotto, the younger of the two teetered out to the pavement - he spared both sides of the road a brief glance, before running out to pluck it from the ground. He had intended to quickly make his way back onto the lawn, but upon staring at the dull surface of the ball, he caught a glimpse of little specks of red; an ode to how he had hurt his older Cousin.

Turning to look at Risotto - who had since gotten to his feet and was pinching his nose to stop it from bleeding, he swallowed thickly: "We can play whatever you want to play."

He had hoped it would appease Risotto, and at the time, it had: Risotto wished more than anything that he had just agreed to play Palla Priogioniera with his Cousin. He had been such a ball of energy; even if there had only been two of them, he was sure his Cousin would have made up something fun.

But good things could never flourish, not on this sick planet;

"I want to play my guitar." Is what he had wanted to say. It's what he should have been able to say; but instead, with the sound of a blaring horn and tires screeching against asphalt - a panicked: "Get out of the road!" Left his throat, torn with fear while he lurched forward, hands splayed open as if it would offer him some kind of solace.

There was nothing he could recognise more than the snap of bones; the spray of a crimson ichor across black tarmac. Something inside him squirmed, writhing beneath his skin at the sight - it urged him forward, despite the tears that pricked at his eyes, despite the man who had since rolled down his window to slur out drunken curse words, despite how much his logical mind wanted to freeze and cry, he ran into the road; kneeling down before the large vehicle and clawing at his Cousin.

Twice more, the sound of a car horn shot through the air; the man in the drivers seat was yelling something, but Risotto had hardly registered it - his Cousins wrist was limp in his own grip, mangled in multiple directions and stained a dark red.

The commotion the driver had decided to bring to their small, typically quiet street, alerted Risotto's Aunt that something had gone wrong; her startled shriek clearly scared the driver, for in just a matter of seconds he had reversed his car away from the two boys and swerved from the scene - desperate not to get caught.

Only a year later, his Aunt and Uncle separated; it wasn't a divorce, they had told him, but they needed space from each other - his Uncle moved inland, while Risotto remained with his Aunt in Sicily.

The sight of his Cousin splayed out across concrete, a body contorted against in such a foul, inhuman way, was something Risotto would never be able to shake from his mind. They tried to hide the cadaver from him when the paramedics came to take it away, but he had already seen far too much, and the blood that coated his hands and arms served only to make his skin crawl in discomfort. It itched. Writhed; like something was living beneath it. It was all too much for him to handle, tears flowed from his eyes freely.

Thing's could only spiral down from there. Though she tried to hold him in a kind regard; he wasn't her son. In the soft light of the sun, his silver hair reflected white, and for a few moments she could pretend her child was still with her - but then, Risotto would look to her with eyes a dark maroon and she would be reminded of the thing she invited into her home.

Maybe his mother had been right. Maybe he was a bad omen. His misfortune took her child, the day his Cousin died, he was robbed of his life - he could have been human, he could have been loved; but he was less than that now.

The older he got, the less he tried to deny the title his family had inflicted upon him. His youth was spent in isolation - rumours spread quickly, nobody wanted to spend time with the boy who killed his own Cousin. Nobody wanted to befriend someone as socially inept as himself; not even his Aunt could look him in the eye. He quickly began to resent the people around him - his Aunt, his classmates, every school teacher that ignored his clear suffering, any counsellor who brushed his upset aside - labelling him as shy, meek, socially anxious; he was ill, he needed help, he needed someone to look him in the eye and tell him to get a hold of himself before he spiralled into something he'd resent - but no one ever did that. Nobody came to his rescue.

He could still remember the first time he had ever held a blade; it had been smooth and sharp against his supple skin, leaking blood that pricked and pooled across his arms. And even after all this time, he could never wash away those lacerations; pale scars, there to forever remind him of a time in which he was at his lowest.

He had grown quite a lot since his younger years; stretching taller than most, though at this point his frame had been lithe. He hardly took care of himself, forgetting to eat properly most days. His silver hair descended past his shoulders, but it wasn't pretty; greasy and unbrushed, and dressed in all black, he looked like someone to avoid. The people who had any sense to them did avoid him, only foolish people full of themselves had any incentive to mess with him; and it just so happened, the wrong person did exactly that.

He liked to collect different kinds of blades.

It started small: Craft knives, swiped from his schools art class, and small kitchen utensils, until eventually he was loitering at markets after hours to buy decorative switchblades - he carried them with him everywhere, though, he had never quite been sure why, not until he was seventeen years old.

It was a day like no other, in that the finest details had been lost to time; but if there was one thing he could remember better than anything else, it was the face of that wretched man. The man who had taken the life of his Cousin - loitering near a booze shop, no less. The anger Risotto felt had been visceral; he was sure that man had gone to jail, to see him stood here not even three years later chatting with friends, with no hint of regret or upset for what he had done, it sent pure rage through Risotto's veins - red, hot fury, burning deep in his mind. It stopped him from thinking straight; his knife weighed heavy in his pocket, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he had it's handle clutched tightly in his grip.

Yet, he'd had more restraint that day.

He'd held back. He wasn't a murderer, not like that man.

But he just couldn't let the thought go. The thought that a singular man had brought so much suffering to his life; in one short minute, this man had ruined him. Risotto would never be the same, no matter how hard he tried, the weight of his melancholy would never lift from his shoulders - he knew he would never be happy, not until he had his hands wrapped around that mans throat, squeezing out every last ounce of justice from his body.

He would write things down in a journal, things that he hoped would never grace the light of day; excerpts detailing all the different ways he would kill that man, how sick he felt, how much he wanted to hurt himself and how often he wanted to hurt others.

His thoughts were sudden and intrusive. He knew they were wrong, he knew it was wrong to feel this way, but he couldn't help it.

Every waking moment he spent thinking of how horrible his own life was, when he had never done anything wrong. Why was it that someone so evil could prosper?

Urged by the uncontrollable itching beneath his skin, he'd find himself walking the streets late at night, bathed in shadows where no one could see him. In pursuit of this man, Risotto had discovered that he had a family - a wife, who he'd known since before the incident, and a two year old daughter, who he'd had since getting out of jail. He'd stopped drinking. Had a job, friends, he was a good person - this should have discouraged Risotto, it should have helped him realise that maybe people can change, however, it only fuelled the fire burning in his heart.

It wasn't fair that he could move on. It wasn't fair that after all this time, Risotto still suffered from the loss of his Cousin, and yet this man could be happy, he could have a family, he could pretend nothing had happened.

Risotto had always held pride in his self restraint, but that night, something inside him snapped. His frayed ends of insanity finally burnt up.

On the Eighth of August, Nineteen Ninety-One, Risotto Nero took his first kill; he stabbed that man thirty seven times. Police statements described his body as 'maimed', the mortician report claimed that it was likely he had been tortured before death. Many criticised his work; they called him careless, he'd been caught breaking into his house on video and both the mans wife and neighbours knew something had happened, but Risotto had never tried to be careful.

When his Aunt's house was searched, they found his knives, and they found his journal - Risotto remained silent during his court hearings, he had nothing to say on the matter. He had killed that man, what was the use in lying?

They charged him with first degree murder. Murder with the intent to kill - though, Risotto would disagree. He hadn't intended for anything to happen that night. He had just lost grips with himself. What had happened next, though, Risotto wasn't quite sure whether it was a blessing or a curse:

Passione had found him.

He spent a few months in jail, only to find that a man by the name of Polpo had paid off a large sum of money to have him removed - bribing his judge to offer him freedom, Risotto was let out on the condition that he follow Passione's orders blindly. Polpo displayed himself as someone Saintly, a saviour, who Risotto owed his all to, and at first, Risotto had followed that sentiment willingly; with no purpose, he had allowed Polpo to pull wool over his eyes. Why shouldn't he have?

Polpo had trained Risotto - by the time he was twenty one, he had bulked up from the scrawny, ratty thing he had once been. He was granted a stand; and suddenly, his affection toward all things metal and sharp made sense. Unconventional as most stands went, it lived inside him, and provided a strange explanation for how often he would feel his skin crawling. And after all that, when he was finally ready, he was granted a team:

La Squadra Di Execuzioni was a team built on trust. Risotto owed Polpo his life, but the dedication he held to Passione wasn't nearly as thick as a loyalty he had to his team. They gave him purpose, meaning, authority - he even fell in love, things he had never experienced before suddenly coming to fruition. So when things hit the fan, when his team had finally fought back against the mistreatment they received;

With three dead,

Two bedridden,

Three severely injured,

And one so depressed he'd refused to do anything but sit in bed and stare at his laptop.

It only made sense that Risotto sought revenge. He had been turned to a weapon, and now he would ensure that those who tormented him and his team knew no peace; even if he failed, he would ensure that his name would never be forgotten. Whispered betwixt shadows, people would shudder when they heard of the Risotto Nero, and all the things he was capable of.

"Sardinia,"

It was a name settled at the very tip of his tongue, yet, uttering it aloud brought bile to the back of his mouth. He stood broadly, eyeing one of his teammates from the corner of their new hideout - the rugged little apartment hardly held the entire team, but it was the safest place they could lay low, just until this entire thing blew over.

He teetered closer to his teammate, brow furrowed. "That is where they are?"

Slowly, as if a weight was pressing down on him, Ghiaccio lifted his head to look at his leader. A choked sound left his throat, courtesy of the blood-soaked bandages he had wrapped around his throat. "Y..es,"

He croaked, his voice hoarse. Since sustaining his injury, he had been struggling to talk; it was horrid, but, he was thankful he had left that fight mostly intact. He could have returned to his team looking like Prosciutto, or worse, Illuso. Taking a few moments to cough, Ghiaccio grumbled unsurely:

"Melone c...claims they suddenly shifted their direction once they made it to--" He coughed, "Venezia, but," A short, uneasy grimace settled across his face. "We haven't been on best terms since... well," He paused for a moment, biting his bottom lip. "He think's she's still alive. Apparently, while following their team, Babyface has been picking up on traces of her DNA, but---"

"---That's enough,"

The room was enveloped by a blanket of silence. Risotto's lip quivered, he had wanted to say something on the matter, but found himself at a loss for words. He had been evading that topic like some kind of plague; his grief was still fresh, yet, he had no time to be thinking of anything other than getting what he needed.

Turning away from Ghiaccio, Risotto stormed toward the door to their hiding place. "I'm going to Sardinia. If I do not return, then you leave."

He turned to look over his shoulder, shooting Ghiaccio a stern, authorative glare. "All of you. You will leave Italy; maybe even Europe, if you have to---"

"---You're going alone?" Ghiaccio seemed a little taken aback at the suggestion. Bucciarati's team had decimated every single member of their team, even some of the most agile and powerful members like Prosciutto had been near killed. But, Risotto held no regard for the dangers his self-inflicted mission held.

"Yes," He huffed, turning back around to grab at the door which would take him outside. He heard a sound leave Ghiaccio, an attempt to argue back; but his hoarse voice wouldn't let him. Risotto huffed. "Don't try to dissuade me. This is something I must do - even if I took someone, the rest of you are far too injured to do anything." He glanced over his shoulder once more, the crimson of his eyes near glowing amongst the dark of their hideout. "It will take me a day to get there, and a day to return, at the very least. If I do not return by the end of this week, then it's safe to assume I never will."

Though he was avoiding saying the words, Ghiaccio knew all too well what Risotto was suggesting. He swallowed thickly, nodding his head, and it was with that, Risotto stormed out of the house. With nothing on him but a couple thousand lira and a burning desire for revenge, Risotto would travel to Sardinia.

It's what he should have done in the first place.

---

HIHI SO THERE IT IS i think this is the start to chapter 22 of my fic, BUT ITS STILL A DRAFT - i write scenes as they come to me, and often they change quite a bit when they actually get put into the fic SOOO chapter 22 of DK could very well start differently, and YOU NEVER KNOW this could get pushed or pulled to be either earlier or later... also i figured out how to make text small arent I cool?

i didnt know whether i wanted the title to be 'Enter Sandman' or 'Until It Sleeps' cuz while Enter Sandman is a GREAT song that really suits Risotto, it's Metallica's most popular and i fear there are other songs that are underappreciated SO i decided on Until It Sleeps, it's one of my favs and i think it suits Risotto :3

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comphetkoncass · 22 days ago

Note

silly prompts? silly prompts about dc characters? might i throw: cass cain interacting with crystal brown for you to consider and see if that might intrigue you?

ok so i had an idea the other day about like bruce sucking at being a girl dad and basically forgetting that periods exist. what if crystal brown filled this role instead?

also i KNOW you said silly but i am sooo bad at writing characters having an unabashedly good time so this is as fun and lighthearted as it gets. also remember when i said 1K is the max word count i can have. do you remember that. because not one of these has been under 1K lmao

////

Crystal Brown has just finished a 12-hour shift at the clinic and a half-hour commute to boot. She is ready for exactly one microwaveable meal, one chore-check to see if the dishes and laundry have gotten too dire before her next day off, and maybe one episode of shitty reality TV – The Bachelor – that Stephanie will usually sit with her and make fun of before a blissful eight hours of sleep.

So she is surprised to hear the TV already turned on to her shitty reality TV. It’s odd. Stephanie never watches it without her. It's just not as fun for her to make fun of on her own, god forbid her irony-loving daughter watching a show purely for the love of watching it.

“Stephanie?” she calls as she sets her bags down. “I hope you’re not using up the pre-recordings, I don’t want to miss the finale.”

No one answers. Crystal frowns. Maybe she left it on before she left? That would be terrible, she really was looking forward to the season finale, and it's so hard to find the pre-recordings after watching them. She doesn't want to have watched the entire season of The Bachelor just to miss the final episode. And this season was wild, especially after two of the girls left with each other instead, thus making one subsequent episode end with no one going home. Now that it's down to the final two as scheduled, Todd probably doesn’t deserve either Graciela or Kaiden, especially when Stephanie said Todd had at least two DUIs that his wealth and handsome face can’t quite distract from. But it’s fun to watch. It’s not meant to be critically examined, she keeps telling Stephanie.

After she's unpacked the necessities from her purse and refilled her water bottle, she can't help but notice that a few other things are off about her home.

For one, there are more wrappers around the kitchen than usual. Stephanie isn’t the tidiest, but she usually at least throws things away after using them.

Feeling a little frustrated, Crystal scoops the wrappers up, sighs pointedly, and tosses them before they can draw ants. She’ll definitely be talking with Stephanie about this. The last thing she needs after a 12-hour shift is to come home to a mess.

“Stephanie,” she calls again, trying to keep her patience. “If you’re home, answer me.”

And then, she has the sudden sensation of being watched.

Crystal tenses and stands up straight.

And just across the kitchen, standing at the other side of the island as if she's been here the entire time, is an unfamiliar asian girl, around Stephanie's age.

Crystal almost has a heart attack. Crystal holds a hand to her heart, prepared to fight if she needs to, because what the actual hell is this strange girl doing in her house? She opens her mouth to ask who she is and why she's watching TV in her house, when the girl speaks.

"Not Stephanie," she says. "But... Hi, Stephanie's mom."

"Is there a reason you broke into my house, Not Stephanie?"

“Stephanie told me to come if there was … if I had an emergency. I thought she would come home first.” She glances at the suddenly wrapper-less countertop, and does look genuinely apologetic. “Sorry. Meant to clean up.”

Crystal looks at the girl closer. Even from across the countertop island, she can tell this girl is smaller than Stephanie. And, upon slightly closer examination, extensively scarred.

Crystal has a bad feeling she knows just what activity Stephanie knows her from.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and gives herself just a moment to tamp down her frustration. But the girl hasn’t made a move to kill her, so if she’s a vigilante, she’s not that kind of vigilante. And she did say Stephanie had invited her. So for now, Crystal won’t kick her out. She looks seventeen, maybe nineteen at the most. She doesn't exactly look like a threat.

And she did mention an emergency.

“What is the emergency you came here for?” Crystal asks, with a herculean effort at being the adult in the room.

“Bleeding.”

Crystal’s brows raise. She looks at the girl’s extensive scarring, and despite being thoroughly tapped out of nurse mode after twelve hours on the clock, it doesn’t take that much effort to get back into it. At least it makes marginally more sense for Stephanie to have asked her friend to come here if she needed medical attention, though it's odd that the girl had expected Stephanie to be home first if that was the case. “Okay,” she says, professionally. She's already reaching for the first aid kit she keeps in her purse. “Where are you bleeding? I can stitch it, if you need, –I’m sorry, Stephanie didn’t mention you, can you tell me your name?”

“Cassandra. Cass.” The girl, Cass, looks uncomfortable giving it. Or maybe uncomfortable at the thought of stitches. “It can be stitched?”

“Well, where are you bleeding?”

"...Pelvis? Not sure what the right word is." Cass points down below. The kitchen island blocks her view, but it's clear she's indicating her pelvic and pubic area, somewhere in her inner groin. Crystal frowns. If this girl was hurt in such a sensitive area, it seems odd that Stephanie would just leave her alone here.

The more Crystal thinks about it though, the less she’s sure of what Cass means. Has she been cut? Is this a vaginal tear? Some combination of both? Sexual abuse isn’t exactly rare in Gotham, so it’s hard to rule anything out. Either way, it would definitely count as an emergency. Crystal just wishes she knew whether Cass was a minor or not – she’d need to ask different questions, and figure out whether or not CPS or the foster system needed to get involved, if so.

She can’t do anything until she knows exactly what’s wrong, though.

“Can you tell me a little bit more about how you got hurt? Is it a cut that needs stitches, or something else?”

“It doesn’t…” Cass frowns, looking like she’s struggling for the words. “Stephanie said it didn’t need stitches.”

“But it is a cut?”

“It's bleeding.”

“Then whether it needs stitches is for a nurse to decide,” Crystal says, and is going to have A Talk with Stephanie about giving medical advice. “How long have you been bleeding? How much blood have you lost?”

“Two days,” Cass says. “More blood than usual.”

And something shifts.

Crystal tilts her head to the side. “When you say bleeding,” she says, calmly, “Does this bleeding happen often?”

Cass makes a face as she thinks about it. “Not often,” she says. “A few times a year. More, now.”

That doesn’t quite disprove Crystal’s theory, though it does mean there might be other complications. “When you talked with Stephanie about this earlier," she says, "Did Stephanie call it anything?”

“Shark week.” Cass wrinkles her nose.

Crystal heaves a deep sigh, changes the discussion she’s going to have with Stephanie to be one about properly naming medical terms, and puts the first aid kit away. “Okay,” she says, and mentally recalibrates most of their conversation. It now makes perfect sense. Of course Cass would be wary of being stitched up for menstruation. “Did she show you where the extra pads and tampons are? Or ibuprofen?”

Cass shakes her head.

“Alright then. Follow me,” Crystal says, and directs her to the bathroom, where Stephanie usually keeps extra pads and tampons. She realizes now that the girl’s comfortable pants are quite noticeably stained, even from the front, and she feels a pang of sympathy. She also, more self-interestedly, hopes that nothing else is stained. She can’t afford a new couch right now.

Within a few minutes, Crystal has given the girl a new set of underwear and pants, taught her how to apply a pad, and given her a heating pad and some ibuprofen.

(Apparently period cramps don’t hurt nearly as badly as being shot, but after some prodding, she did get Cass to admit that she was a little bit uncomfortable.)

After that, there’s not much to do.

Crystal still wants her microwaved meal and to watch the season finale of The Bachelor. But she’s got the feeling that if she kicks this girl out, she won’t have anywhere else to go. And, well. The couch isn’t ruined, thanks to a few towels the girl had found instead. She's been polite enough, and she's not a threat. There’s no reason she can’t stay in the living room if she’s got nowhere else to go.

So after some careful deliberation, Crystal pulls out two microwave meals, and heats them up simultaneously.

They spin in the microwave for quite some time.

After they're almost done, she asks, “Is Stephanie not coming home tonight?”

Cass watches her curiously from across the kitchen. She shakes her head, no.

“Well, I’m not waiting to watch the season finale without her,” Crystal says with an air of finality, and tries not to listen to the pang of anxiety that always comes with not knowing her daughter's whereabouts. They'll fight about it tomorrow, she knows. She just hopes that her daughter comes home by tomorrow. “You’ll just have to watch it with me instead.”

Cass stares at her.

The microwave dings, and Crystal pulls out two meals, handing one to her strange guest. “I hope you don’t mind Stouffers.”

Cass takes it silently. Surprised, it seems, at the hospitality. Crystal is, too.

As they settle in for the pre-recording, forks scraping the microwaveable plastic tins, Crystal feels strangely in sync with her guest. At least Cass, unlike Stephanie, seems to have a more honest appreciation of The Bachelor.

“Kaiden doesn’t like him as much as Graciela does,” Cass comments mid-way through the finale. She shakes her head in disapproval as the episode cuts to commercial, right before Todd makes his final decision between the final girls. “They won’t be happy together if he chooses her.”

“I know,” Crystal says, shaking her head. “But Kaiden is rich, so Todd will probably pick her.”

“Shallow,” Cass says, mouth half full. “Boo.”

She sounds a little like Stephanie, and Crystal hides a smile in her next bite. “If it makes you feel better, Graciela is probably going to be on the next Bachelorette.”

Cass looks up, brows furrowed. “Bachelorette?”

“Well… yes. Instead of the girls competing for one boy, it's several boys competing for a girl.” Crystal has the spark of an idea. She hesitates, only for a moment. Then, “Do you... want to watch it together, when it comes out?”

It’s a way to keep an eye on this strange, scarred friend of her daughter’s, who’s in her late teens and didn’t quite seem to understand periods. But, even more importantly, if she steals her daughter’s friend, maybe there’ll be some more earnest appreciation of reality TV in the Brown household.

Cass looks at her for a long moment. Then, once and decisively, nods. “Yes,” she says, and then, as if only just remembering her manners, adds- “Yes, please.”

“Well, the next season of the Bachelorette will start a month from now,” Crystal says. “You’ll probably need some more period supplies by then anyway. Stop by and we’ll get you fixed up with that, too.”

Cass’s face changes a little, somewhere between confusion and surprise. She nods again, this time silently. Crystal doesn't press. She has a feeling that a month from now, her strange guest will have reappeared at the end of her shift.

At least by then, she'll have had a chance to buy a few extra period supplies and underwear. Just in case.

#cass cain #crystal brown #cdw writes

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dearstvckyx · 5 months ago

Text

“That when a heart breaks, it ain't broken forever” - MV1

Pairing : Sierra Verstappen x Max Verstappen (Main) , Sierra Verstappen x Victoria Verstappen (Mentioned) , Sierra Verstappem x Blue Jaye Verstappen (Mentioned) , Sierra Verstappen x Sophie Kumpen (Mentioned)

Genre : angst , sad , emotional, just get the tissues okay

Mentions : drg use, addiction, death, character death, oc death

about oc : Sierra Verstappen ~~is~~ was the oldest sibling of the Verstappen Three (Her, Max and Victoria). Was a singer/rapper.

about : After her death due to an OD, Max is cleaning her house out and he finds tucked away in her office and cd holder with unreleased songs, one being Temporary.

Max sits at desk that used to alway occupy his older sister warmth and scent, staring down at the disc with his and Vics name he decides to put it into Sierra’s computer. The video begins with the camera low to the ground filming someone’s feet and Max, being the observer he is, notices it’s Sierra shoes. And as the camera pans up to familiar older girl with dyed dark blue hair and the blue eyes, he starts to get emotional seeing her face once more. And finally, He hears that voice that used to sing him to sleep, that used to stand up for him in school, the voice that would calm his anxiety down after a bad race or a fight with their father.

A lot of people ask me, am I afraid of death? - The truth is, I think what scares me the most - Is not being able to say all the things I wanna say to you - When I'm no longer here - So this song is for Maxie for when that day comes

Hearing not just her voice but calling him Maxie, the one who started that nicknamed, made Max tear up a bit. The video fake glitches, to a video of Sierra and Max when Max was a kid,

Where's Maxie? Where's he at?This ain't Maxie! Who is it? It's a monster (ahh)

Max laughed at the video from childhood, Sierra was the only one who could get Max into a video

I've been waiting all night for the sunrise - To take away the dark sky - You're the dad monster and them are the baby monsters and - I'm the mom monster - Oh - All it takes is a new day sometimes - To get me in a better state of mind - Give me a kiss, monster, give me a kiss - Love you (I love you)

Max takes notice that this part is talking about their family's dynamics and the hope that each new day brings healing. The video glitches once more to Max still pretending to be a “monster”. And hearing that ‘I Love You’ once more broke Max’s heart. Once the chorus is over, Verse 2 begins playing, the video cuts back to Sierra sitting in front of at TV that’s playing all and everything of the Verstappen Three (Sierra, Max & Victoria)

Yeah, so Maxie Emil, I wrote you this song - To help you cope with life now that I'm gone - How should I start? Just wanna say - Look after Vicky, Bluey, and Mommy dear - And, sweetie, be strong, I know I was your rock - And I still am, saying goodbye is just not - Ever easy, but why you crying? Just stop - Max, baby, dry your eye, this is not - Forever

Max hears the chorus began again before hearing,

Sissy - What? - When I used to have this when I was a little kid - Baby, are you okay?

Max was surprised to hear their mother's voice, but he was happy to hear it

Yeah, and you will get over me and move on - You can play me on repeat on a song - But don't you dare shed a tear, what'd I tell you? - "Straighten up, little soldier, " them times when I held you - Emilian, it'll be okay, baby, I'm here, Max - I'm watchin' you right now, baby boy, I vow - I will protect you, your guardian angel - As hard as this may feel, us parting is painful - And, darling, the rain will drive you insane still - You will remain strong, Maxie, just hang on - It won't be too long, I need you to move on - And remember, it will get better - 'Cause times heals and when a

Max realizes that, yes he can listen to her music but he wants to hear it person then a recording. Max remembers his fathers rage after a bad race of Maxs, which resulted in Max running away and sitting somewhere by himself crying before he felt the warmth and inhaled the strawberry scented perfume, he had relized his older sister was hugging him and talking him down from this panic attack. Max remembers the words “straight up little soldier. you did great and im still so proud of you.” That one word was one he really only heard from Sierra.

I know this big boy - And he’s really handsome - You know what his name is? - Maxie! - Maxie, how did you know?

Max laughs at his younger confident self,

Yeah, and if there's days where you wanna lock yourself in your room and cry - Just think about how when you were little, how you and I back and forth to the studio, we used to drive - You strapped in the backseat 'cause you were my little sidekick, yeah, sweetie, I know this hurts - Bean, I'm wishing your pain away - Remember this, Maxie Emil - There’s gonna be rainy days - I promise you'll get through 'em and make it regardless - Fuck it, Emilian, I'll be honest - I knew that you was gonna take this the hardest - Sweetie, get up, I know that is is breaking your heart, it's the hardest thing I ever wrote (daddy)Hailie, sweetheart, it's okay for you to let me go - Baby, I promise you that when a-

Max knows and remembers what his sister is talking about. Growing up if Sierra noticed Max was upset, stressed or tired, or just needing a break from karting or dealing with their father, she would take Max with her to the recording studio, Max was almost nearly the first one to hear her music before it was released.

And hearing that nickname Bean, The one Sierra created because Max hated green beans that he would throw them across the room. This part makes Max laugh once more, something he hasn't done in 3 weeks. And once again his bigger sister was right, Max is taking Sierras death harder then anyone, then their younger siblings, their father, their mother and the world.

What's your favorite song? My favorite song right now - Mine and your favorite song, - but I like this part, that's your favorite part, sis?

You're taping me, bitch - I got you on tape cussin' - Can you hear? -Yeah - No, bitch - No what? - No, I said, I said, no, bitch - Okay, no cussin'

Max laughs at this part, Sierra was more of a parent than Jos was to Max. Making him food before and after school, taking him to school, helping him with school work, going to any parent - teacher conferences. With this parental role Sierra had taken on she made sure Max did have some rules one was: No cussing. And Max remembers faking his sister out by saying words that sound close to the swears.

Max leans back, tears in his, and thinks for a moment before grabbing his sister’s phone and getting her managers number off it. Calling her, Max mentions he found the song and wants to see if they can release it, and they do. Max is happy for once these past couple weeks, he knows that she wanted him to find that song, to listen to it, to fight for it to be released. And Max knows Sierra is standing next to him smiling proud once more.

liked by landonorris everythingsierrav and others

maxverstappen1 i am surprised the new outlet haven’t said it before us, our sister Sierra Eliza Verstappen has passed away, today marks 5 weeks of her being gone and it’s something i’m not used to. i miss hearing her voice and her nicknames for me. i got in touched with her manager and label to release this song i heard when cleaning out her house, it’s called “Temporary” and in the words of my older sister, “i hope you enjoy, this masterpiece.” - Max Maxie

charles_leclerc she was a lovely person max ❤️

landonorris the big sister of the paddock

f1 the verstappen three !

victoriaverstappen she was proud of Max, of everything you have done and will do

sophiekumpen im so glad you fought for them to release this song son, you can tell Sierra meant every word

lewishamilton replaying this so many times

- comments haven’t been limited -

liked by sabrinacarpenter lewishamilton oscarpiastri and others

billboard Temporary by Sierra Verstappen sill stands at number one for the 34 week in a row, looks like being number one is a Verstappen sibling thing - Keep Streaming

- Comments Have Been Turned Off -

#max verstappen x sister!verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #mv1 x reader #mv1 #f1 x reader #f1 #angst #sad #song fic #temporary #eminem song fic #eminem

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fiveredlights · 1 month ago

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happy 202-five 🥳🥂 (sorry i think i’m hilarious)

as it is new year’s day, it only felt fitting to write a little snippet of glitter on the floor max and daniel celebrating new year’s alone—or so they thought. (1.2k, G)

“I feel like we’ve forgotten something,” Daniel says as Max passes a flute of champagne to him. Below them, the hoards of people wanting to catch a glimpse of the fireworks over Port of Monaco grow louder, as the clock ticks down till midnight. “Or someone.”

Matilda’s stuck in London after her flight was delayed. Lucia’s out with Andie and their friends at some Michelin star restaurant somewhere. Gary and Steve are probably destroying the new chair they got after they destroyed the last one. Molly is sleeping soundly on the sim chair in their office. Daniel’s next to him on their balcony, curled up on the sofa with two blankets and a puffer jacket on him.

(Two blankets because Daniel still refuses to wear shorts even when he’s cold.)

“I think this is the first year in a long time we’re spending New Year’s alone,” Max responds, tucking himself between the couch armrest and Daniel. “So maybe that is why it feels so weird.”

“Yeah, the house is so quiet without the kids. Reminds me of when we first started dating,” Daniel says, balancing the champagne flute on the armrest next to him. “Could do whatever we wanted without two children bickering in the background,” he murmurs, turning to face Max and sliding his frozen hands underneath his shirt.

He nudges a knee between Max’s legs and slots himself on top of him, swinging a leg over his thigh and placing his weight on it. Max reaches up and threads his hands through Daniel’s hair, pulling him down into a kiss but it’s hard to take him seriously when his puffer jacket squeaks at every movement.

“Daniel,” Max murmurs in between their kisses. “Daniel, your jacket.” He tugs on the zipper, trying to get his husband to temporarily part with it when Daniel pulls back.

“Daniel,” he says again. “Your jacket. It makes that sound that you know I do not like.”

“Aw. But I like this jacket,” Daniel pouts, like he doesn’t know that Max has been trying to get rid of it for the past twenty years. Every time it’s in the donation pile it mysteriously finds its way back into their closet, front and centre.

From behind them, there’s a big slam from the front door, before a voice yells down, “I’m fine!”

Max is about to chalk it down to one of their neighbours being drunk and confusing the apartments for one another, when the voice comes echoing down the apartment again, with three knocks on the door.

“Papa! Dad! Can you open the door? I think I broke the lock.” Max and Daniel take one look at each other, before pushing themselves off the couch and making their way down.

Lucia is standing there with a sheepish look on her face, a box of pizza in her hand. Andie’s next to her with a nervous smile. “I tried the code and it wasn’t working, and I left the keys at Andie’s place. Sorry.”

Daniel waves them in, hugging them as they walk past. “All good Luce. Thought you two would stay out longer?”

Gary and Steve immediately saunter down the hallway, tails up in the air and weaving between them. Gary lets out a long perfunctory meow at Andie, who picks him into her arms, bouncing him like a baby. He can hear his purring, even from a distance.

“I just don’t think we’re fine dining people,” Andie explains. She has a finger underneath Gary’s chin, scratching him to his heart’s content. “Plus the restaurant doesn’t have Sir Gaga, does it?”

Lucia pulls a face. “Absolutely not. Sir Gaga is worse than Gazza. I am not letting you name our future children, your track record of names is terrible.”

“Don’t listen to her Sir Gaga,” Andie gasps in mock outrage, walking past her and out to the balcony. “You have a wonderful name, Lucia’s just jealous.”

Molly comes trotting out of the office, sitting herself right in front of Lucia. She shakes her head fondly, following Andie with Molly in tow. “At least you have a normal-ish nickname, don’t you Mozzarella?”

Daniel takes a moment to process Molly’s nickname. “Mozzarella?”

“You named birds, Daniel,” Max says bluntly. “So I am not sure you can talk.”

They’re about to move back to their outdoor couch when the sound of keys jingling in the lock plays. Max opens the door to find Matilda on the other side, two suitcases behind her and slightly frazzled.

“Did you know they wouldn’t let me into the street until I proved I lived at the apartment? And of course none of my ID showed this address—why would it show my parents address—and this cop was such a dick to me,” Matilda rants, yanking her suitcases inside.

“Oh my god, I am never travelling on New Year’s Eve again, that was horrible.” Matilda looks at the door behind her. “Did you change the code?”

Max waves his hand around. “Lucia timed it out. We’ll fix it in the morning.”

The broken door lock offender sticks her head out of the balcony door, pointing at her sister with the pizza box in hand. “Why are you here? I thought you were stuck with Riley in London,” she asks, using air quotes for her back half of the last sentence.

“No, I was actually stuck in London, don’t do the air quotes,” Matilda shoots back. “Why are you here, I thought you and Andie were at that fancy restaurant or whatever with your friends?”

“We got hungry, so we left,” Lucia explains.

“At a restaurant?”

“The portions were really tiny—look, shut up. Maybe I just wanted to eat pizza with my fiancée at home instead of wondering if I was using the right fork or not,” Lucia says pointedly, shaking the box. “Do you want the pizza or are you still judging my restaurant choices?”

Matilda practically vaults over all the living room furniture and snatches the box from Lucia, almost planting herself on top of Andie when she jumps over the back of the outdoor couch.

Andie slides a soft drink across the coffee table towards Matilda, who downs a quarter of the can in one sip.

“What?” Matilda looks around at them. “I refuse to pay for bad airport food, this isn’t a new thing about me.”

“Where’s Riley?” Andie asks instead, passing another soft drink across in preparation. “I thought you two were going to visit his parents in Colorado?”

“Left him in London,” Matilda mumbles through a mouthful of pizza.

“Matilda!” Daniel chastises. “Are you serious?”

“I did ask if he wanted to come, but apparently staying in a hotel overnight was more appealing than flying back here, so.” Matilda shrugs in a way that definitely tells him she’s annoyed at him over it. “Would rather spend the new year with you guys than in some random hotel.”

There’s a silent pact between them to not push too many questions about Riley on Matilda. Max could barely keep up with the way they were bouncing around each other at the very beginning.

They’re all saved from accidentally saying the wrong thing when the fireworks start. Daniel startles with the loud bangs echoing across the sky, scrambling to get his jacket off the floor and pulling the hood over his ears.

“Pretty cool fireworks, right?” Matilda asks, looking over at them. Max stretches his arm over Daniel, pulling them all closer.

Daniel slides his hand into Max’s underneath the blanket, squeezing it three times. “Yeah,” he exhales. “Pretty cool fireworks.”

#in honour of molly mozzarella and gary Sir Gaga i would love it if you would tell me the most absurd nickname you've got for your pets #i'll go first: matilda's current nickname is tutu or turtle. she is not a tutu or a turtle. she is a cat.#i’ve been dealing with some very bad fatigue in the background so i haven’t been really able to write or participate in anything #is it anemia is it CFS is it POTS is it something else?? whatever it is i am Not Having Fun #but it was nice to pretend to be okay for a little bit and write in my favourite universe (i felt the ghost of matthew be offended at that)#glitter on the floor #maxiel #five writes

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th3-ann0unc3r · 2 months ago

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i’m back for more marauders x taylor swift songs and im listening to my anthology record so here’s the songs i think each marauders ship/character is! (some of them are about characters from other perspectives) (thank you for reading this i know it’s a lot!)

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Fortnite: jegulus (if james dated regulus for a bit and then went to lily and regulus went to barty)

ttpd: Wolfstar or hear me out rosekiller

my boy only breaks his favorite toys: remus about sirius (could be post prank or if he was in denial about his sexuality)

down bad: jegulus (NOW IM DOWN HAD CRYING AT THE GYM EVERYTHINK COMES OIT TEENAGE PETULANCE IS SO JAMES CORE)

so long london: i’m so sorry but this is so remus and grant

but daddy i love him: regulus to sirius when he finds out about jegulus

fresh out the slammer: there an obvious answer so i’m gonna go with the unobvious one ROSEKILLER

florida!!!!: this is just a gryffindor party (give me partyvan as well)

guilty as sin: sirius about his crush on remus

who’s afraid of little old me? lily evans (no i will never shut up about this now that ive figured this out)

i can fix him (no really i can): post prank remus

LOML: if james had been in love with sirius before he started dating remus…. (yes i love prongsfoot)

i can do it with a broke heart: give me remus after he finds out mary obliviated herself

the smallest man who ever lived: LILY TO PETER (also lily to snape) (walberga to orion) (i could go on for days)

the alchemy: jily (may i also throw in quidditch player lily with pandalily) (DORLEEN)

clara bow: the 3 generations of black family men (you look like orion black in this light remarkable) (you look like sirius black in ‘75 the hair the lips) (you look like regulus black in this light we’re loving it you’ve got edge he never did)

the black dog: OH COME ON GUYS THIS ONE IS OBVIOUS TOO (i’ll just say it wolfstar during the prank)

imgonnagetyouback: if rosekiller broke up this would be the exact song that would play

the albatross: how people see pandora

chloe or same or sophia or marcus: this somg is about being on drugs and some begging you to stop (rosekiller) (who said that? ) (it was the wind) (also could be sirius who keeps sleeping with girls instead of being with remus) (who said that) (damn wind is so loud)

How did it end? remus when he realized all of his friends are dead and he’s completely alone

so high school: DORLEEN GUYS

i hate it here: pandora rosier

thanK you aIMee: barty about his dad (sirius and regulus about their mother)

i look in peoples windows: tcoptp remus searching for tonya in every person he meets because she was his mother no matter what (if remus was dating tonks because of him seeing sirius in her) (i love tonks and remus im not trying to pull a i hate the girls thing) (i just genuinely understand that if you find someone you love that much you will search for them in EVRRY SINGLE PERSON YOY CAN FIND) (tonks apologist household) (if you don’t like tonks you can go away)

the prophecy: lily begging for harry not to be the boy who lived (i would also like to say pandora who sees regulus drown and begs the universe to not do this to her)

casandra: dorcas (MS. VOLDY HAD TO KILL ME HIMSELF BECAUSE I WAS TO BIG OF A THREAT) (i would also like to say lily evan’s)

peter: james to peter (i would also like to throw in jegulus) (we said it was just good bye for now. you said you were gonna grow up then you were gonna come find me is so james begging regulus not to take the mark after they broke up) (also we did the best we could under the same moon is so james talking about moony and how much he tried to help keep the group together) (i might have to make a whole post about this song)

The bolter: sirius when he keeps sleeping around (no more girls? no more girls)

Robin: if remus got to raise harry…. (the secret we all vowed to keep from you in sweetness) (it’s so remus trying to protect harry from finding out he’s the boy who lived )

The manuscript: remus finding out harry has the map…. (now and then i reread the manuscript but the story isn’t mine anymore OUCHY OUCHY OUCHY OUCH)

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mrsevans90 · 1 year ago

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Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 8

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller

Warnings: Smut, Sy overthinking, PTSD, meeting the grandparents (Nana is a warning herself 😜) language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own.

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 7

We head to bed later that night and I start removing my clothes.

“I normally sleep naked. I can put some boxers on if you want me too.” I say. I don’t know why it feels awkward but getting naked in front of each other just to go to sleep feels a little embarrassing all of the sudden. I’m reminded that we really haven’t known each other for more than a few days and even though I feel things for her that I haven’t felt in years this is moving awfully fast. I’m used to one-night stands that I don’t see again after we’ve had sex and I dip out.

Emma chuckles at my sudden hesitation. “Bear, I’m more than fine with you sleeping naked. Can I borrow that shirt I wore this morning to sleep in so I won’t get cold?” She asks and I immediately hand her my red DILLIGAF shirt. She has no idea how much I wore that shirt while deployed after Mark and Jenn sent it to me for my birthday one year. It’s easily my favorite and typically I’d never let a woman wear it for fear of not getting it back, but Emma looks sensational in it and I love seeing it. She removes her clothes before sliding it on and going to the bathroom to brush her teeth. The edge of the shirt rides up when she spits out her toothpaste and I’m instantly horny again. Gosh, she’s perfect. I’m feeling more confident tonight after sleeping so well with her next to me last night and hope I don’t have any nightmares. We climb into bed and she immediately snuggles against my chest while intertwining our legs together. I start playing with strands of her hair as the dogs settle in their beds on the floor.

“I’m going to have to tell my parents about Colin tomorrow. They’re going to freak. Especially my dad.”

“Why’s that? He’s arrested, won’t they feel better about him being in custody?”

“Maybe for the next day or so. When he got out of it the first time, he was angrier than he had been the night he broke in. He was going around town starting rumors about me and telling people that I was going to pay for giving him a criminal record. Unfortunately, he didn’t say it to me directly so it wasn’t considered a threat by law enforcement. My dad basically begged me to move home so that I wasn’t alone but I wasn’t going to do that. I’m a thirty-two-year-old woman with a successful job and can take care of myself. If I moved back home, the fear would overtake me and I don’t think I’d ever fully move on. I’d just be stuck there in the town that constantly gossiped and I just couldn’t live like that, you know?”

“Makes sense. Ya gotta move forward.”

“Exactly. Dad always worried that I was running away from my problems, rather than seeing it as a new beginning for me to live the life that I want too. I just worry that he’ll panic and try to convince me that moving back is the only way I’ll be safe from Colin.”

“I’ve never been a parent so I certainly can’t say what I would do in his shoes, but he loves you and just wants to protect you. Sometimes parents think sheltering us like they did when we were kids is the only way to protect us. He’ll come to the realization that you’re a grown woman who wants to make her own decisions and live the way she chooses. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to give up control over someone you’ve cared for their whole life, but I’m sure he’ll come around in time. Has he been out here to visit?”

“He came with me the week I bought the house. I had toured it the same week I applied for the veterinarian position and loved it so I brought him back before closing. We stayed at the hotel in town and basically toured the town for three days before he headed back. He wanted to help me move but I wouldn’t allow him. He’s got a bad back and I don’t need him injuring himself. I can fortunately afford movers so that’s what I did. I promised my parents they could come visit in a few weeks once I got the guest bedroom in working order. I still need to go buy a bed for that room, come to think of it.”

“Mmm, that’s real nice darlin’. I’m sure you’ll love having them come visit ya.”

“It’ll be nice but I’m sure I’ll get an earful about Colin showing up. I still can’t figure out how he found me.”

“I don’t know, but we’ve done all the necessary measures to keep you safe and secure. You can always call me if you’re worried and I’ll be there in ten minutes or less. Just promise me you won’t confront him again without me or police there alright?”

“Oh, I have no plans to confront him at all, but I promise.” She says with a sleepy smile.

“Let’s go to sleep, Sugar. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Mmm… Goodnight Sy.”

“Night beautiful.”

After another great night of sleep, I wake around five am and see Emma sprawled out on the bed beside me. The sky is starting to get lighter which casts just enough ambient light on to her sleeping form. Emma lays on her stomach with her arms tucked under the pillow. My navy-blue sheet is draped delicately across her bare bottom and her flawless back is exposed. At some point in her sleep, she has rucked my red t-shirt up so high that I can see the sides of her breasts poking out of it against the mattress. Her long hair is sprawled out beside her on the pillow and her lips are parted with delicate breaths escaping her soft mouth. She looks so youthful and relaxed. She is an absolute art form. This is truly the type of muse that artists create masterpieces about and I have it right here in my bed. Me, just a good old military boy who does construction for a living. I don’t feel like I even belong in her presence at times. She’s so intelligent and articulated, while I fear I sometimes sound like a hick next to her. Yet, she still looks at me as if I hung the stars and I truly don’t know how I can keep from messing this up. I want to pause this moment of pure bliss, and prolong it because I know from experience that all good things must come to an end. In my life, love is fleeting and I don’t want her to be a distant memory. I lay there staring at her and silently chuckle as I watch her scowl and scrunch her nose at what must be an unsatisfying dream. Everything she does is so endearing. I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be early on in a relationship, however, I’ve never experienced someone this perfect in my whole life. Even with my past relationships, there were little signs or red flags that I simply overlooked or placated because everyone has annoying habits. I swear, this girl could slap me in the face and I’d probably ask her to do it again. Pussy whipped. That’s what I’ve become. If only the boys could see me now, they’d never let me hear then end of it. Their no bull-shit Captain head over heels in love…LOVE!? Surely, I can’t be in love. I barely know her. It’s too soon, too fast and we each have too much baggage for things to go this smoothly. I’m just not used to spending so much time with a particular woman. Now, I guess I just enjoy my time with her until the other shoe drops. Hopefully, I won’t be completely crushed in the end. God, what was I thinking inviting her to Nana’s house? It’ll crush the ole’ folks when this goes sour.

I lay there as my mind continues to race knowing that I won’t go back to sleep. This is when I usually wake up and I’ve been more than lucky to have slept two nights in a row without having nightmares. I’d be tempting fate to try and push for anymore. My brain continues to spiral as I lay there watching her sleep. She’s so peaceful and I smirk when she suddenly flips onto her back and her arms stretch out in search for something while her eyes remain closed. Her nose scrunches once again and I realize it’s me that she’s looking for when her hand caresses my chest and goes limp again. I gaze at that sexy little belly ring and then my thoughts go further away from my worries about how much I am or will screw this up and get a bit dirtier. My arm rests behind my head as I gently turn to my side and take in her form. Her face is turned away from me now, but her breasts are just barely concealed in my shirt. Once again, I wish I was an artist because I would find a way to capture this image forever. My phone is across the room on my dresser, and I’m not sure how she would feel about me taking a photo of her so exposed. Technically, she’s covered but only barely. I’ll have to settle to committing this image to memory. Her skin looks so soft and smooth and I have to force myself not to touch her. By seven am, I’ve decided that the perfect way to wake her up and start my morning is by licking on her sweet little peach. I slowly descend under the sheet which is quite a feat for a man of my size. Luckily, her legs are naturally spread but not quite enough to accommodate my large shoulder width. I gently spread them wider thinking she’ll wake but she doesn’t. I lay on my stomach like a sniper with half of my body hanging off of the bed and gently like a stripe up her center. She doesn’t move. How can she sleep so deeply? I spread her lips with my fingers and start softly making out with her petals. Suddenly, she starts to squirm and when my lips close around her little pearl and suck, her eyes fly open and down at me. Her hands quickly reach for my head and she moans loudly.

“OH FUCK! Austin! Holy shit!” I smile against her as I continue my assault on her body. I slide my middle finger into her tight channel and she mewls as I curl it inside her.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” She praises as her hips buck in rhythm to the pace my now two fingers have set inside her.

“Mmm. You taste so good. Best pussy I’ve ever had.” I speak against her sensitive skin.

“That feels so good! I’m… ahhh! I’m gonna cum!” She admonishes and moments later she comes with a squeal and flourish of arousal against my face.

I continue to softly lick her and kiss her core and her thighs as she regains control of her breathing.

“I’ve never been woken up before like that. God, that was incredible.” Emma says as. I caress my way up her body.

“You were sleeping so hard, I worried you were going to sleep through it. I hope it was okay that I did that.” I tell her starting to second guess myself.

“That was more than okay. Thank you, baby. It was incredible.” She assures me and caresses my jaw. I kiss her softly and soon our kisses become heated and rough. I groan when Emma pushes against my chest and straddles me. Her core is leaking wet arousal against my abdomen as her hands roam around my body. Emma pushes her pussy against my stiff cock and begins sliding it through her folds. I swear I could come just from this. She leans back and removes my shirt from her so that I can see her entire body in the sunlight that peaks from behind the curtains and it is the most amazing view. I reach forward and stroke her full breasts in each hand and push them together so that I can bring them towards my awaiting mouth. While sucking on her perfect tits, Emma lifts herself up, takes ahold of my dick and presses it into the opening of her pussy. We both moan aloud as she inches her way down my shaft.

“Fuck, darlin’! You’re sucking me in so good.” I grunt. When I’m buried to the hilt, I still for only a second before she is lifting off of me and slamming back down. This is going to be rough and reckless. I concede control (something I rarely do) so that I can take in the captivating image of Emma taking over and chasing her pleasure. The way the sunlight shines above and through her hair make her look ethereal and angelic. Watching her suck her bottom lip into her mouth and softly whimper as she works herself on my rod is something I never want to forget.

“Damn, you look so perfect riding me, Sugar.”

“You’re the best ride I’ve ever been on, Captain Syverson.” She smirks. I notice her slowing and seemingly getting frustrated that she can’t move as fast as she wants with how wide her legs are spread to accommodate me in between them, so I decide to help her out. I trail my hands from her breasts down to her hips and hold tightly before pumping myself up into her.

“Oh!” She startles and smiles as I do it again. I slam into her from underneath and she grips onto my biceps as she hangs on for the ride. I stretch my large hands and while still holding onto her hips, I thumb her clit and she keens.

“Mmm, baby! That feels so good! You fuck me so good!” She screams and I feel her cunt flutter around me and know she’s close. I use my other hand to grab ahold of her hair and bring her down for a filthy kiss that I continue when her orgasm explodes around me. I flip her over so that I’m on top and take advantage of the absolute vice grip that she has me in to chase my own release. After maybe ten more thrusts, I’m seeing stars as I pump my load into her womb. I gently relax my weight against her, not allowing myself to fully relax so I don’t crush her and lay there for a moment to catch my breath. Emma’s fingers scratch across my back and I’m tempted to fall asleep like this. I pull out of her and flip to my back and she cuddles up against me. Before I realize it, my eyes are closed and I’m drifting off.

I wake up to the smell of coffee and… bacon? I glance and see that the side of the bed next to me is empty and my red DILLIGAF shirt is missing. I’m still laid out on top of the covers completely nude where I must’ve fallen back asleep. Damn, this woman is a magician at getting me to sleep. I shouldn’t tell her that, because I’m sure it would come out wrong and be considered an insult but I’ve never slept this well with a woman. Emma’s bag is still sitting on the chair in my bedroom. I yawn as I get up and shove on some boxers and running shorts. I notice both dogs are no longer in my bedroom so she must have them with her. I take care of my needs in the bathroom and brush my teeth before checking my phone on the dresser. It’s after nine am. I ease my way down the stairs where I find Emma wearing nothing but my t-shirt, singing softly, hands covered in flour as she uses a drinking glass to cut biscuits out of dough and lays them on a pan. The dogs are patiently begging for scraps and could care less about my arrival to the entrance of the kitchen.

“Well, ain’t this a feast for the eyes.” I say to Emma and she immediately looks up and smirks. Her hair is pulled back in one of those messy buns and tendrils are still scattered around her face and damn, if I wasn’t imagining a life with her right now. Fuck me, she is something else entirely.

“Mmm.. good morning sleepy head. I figured you’d earned yourself a nap so I’d get started making breakfast. You know that snack bag I brought last night had all the ingredients needed for my homemade biscuits. Hope you’re okay with those, with some jam or honey, bacon, and scrambled eggs. I figured I could make yourself a bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich with the leftovers for tomorrow. I also hope you don’t mind that I took over your kitchen.” She says a little embarrassed as she gestures with her hands and looks at the flour coated counter.

“Sugar, ain’t nothing you do is going to bother me. This is quite the treat, so thank ya. How can I help?”

“Nothing for you to do. Just get yourself a cup of coffee and relax. I’m finding my way around just fine. I do need to take you to the store sometime and buy you some kitchen utensils. How in the world do you not have a whisk anywhere in this kitchen?”

“Not much for straying outside of the ten or twelve meals I’m good at cooking. Never needed one.” I tell her as I go to get my coffee. I lean down and place a kiss on her lips followed by a smack to her cute little ass that’s covered by my shirt.

“Shirt looks real good on you, Princess.”

“Oh, Princess is new. I like that but not as much as Sugar or Darlin’.” She giggles.

“I thought you said Sugar made you feel like Mrs. Clayton’s yorkie?” I arch my brow at her.

“Not anymore. All it makes me think of now is you and your perfect eyes looking at me.” I smile at her over my cup of coffee.

I’m obsessed with every moment of this domestic bliss. I watch Emma perfectly at home in my kitchen, cooking for me and I swear I feel something akin to butterflies in my stomach.

We eat her breakfast and I easily concede that her biscuits are the best I’ve ever tasted and I make her swear not to tell my Nana that I said that. Southern woman can be real protective of their cooking and there ain’t no sense in starting a feud. We spend the rest of the morning cuddling on the couch watching a movie.

Midday, we get ourselves ready, the dogs loaded up, and head on over to my grandparent’s house for lunch at one in the afternoon. This has become a tradition about two years ago to spend Sunday lunch at their house after they get home and settled from church.

I typically wear my athletic lounge clothes to these lunches but Emma insists on wearing a sundress to make a good impression so I clean up a bit as well. I smile at the thought of her wanting to impress my grandparents.

We make our way up to the porch and I head on inside the unlocked door without knocking.

“Nana? PawPaw?” I holler as we enter the foyer of their home. Aika immediately heads straight for the kitchen since she knows Nana is a pushover for treats and Mills follows enthusiastically.

“Kitchen!” My PawPaw answers.

“I hope it’s alright that I brought company.” I announce as we round the corner into the entryway of the kitchen which memories fill my childhood.

“Oh my god! I’m so glad you brought her! The date must’ve gone better than you told me!” My Nana immediately begins to chirp and I brought my hand over my face as Emma giggles.

“Hi, I’m Emma. I hope it’s okay that Austin brought me; I’ve heard so many good things about you both.” She says as she extends a hand to my PawPaw and then is forced into a hug by my overzealous grandmother.

“Oh, sweetheart! I’m so glad you’re here. Austin told me you were beautiful but you are just stunning!” Nana flutters and I shake my head in laughable exasperation.

“Nice to see you too, Nana.” I say and she puts her hands on her hips and gives me a look like she’ll scold me in front of everyone.

“Well get over here and give me a hug then, Grumpy Butt!” I roll my eyes but then give my Nana a hug and then one to my PawPaw who discreetly smacks my shoulder and congratulates me for landing such a beautiful woman.

“This is Mills.” I say as I scoop up the little garbage disposal who is searching desperately for any crumbs by my grandmother’s stove.

“Aren’t you just a sweetie! Now look at me little fella, here are the rules. No pottying inside the house, and no chewing on my furniture. Oh and don’t go chasing my chickens in the yard. Got that little man?” She asks as if he’ll answer and then reaches for the dog treat container she keeps on her counter for Aika.

“Nana, he’s a puppy. He’s definitely going to at least chase the chickens. Let him have a little fun.” I coax as Mills squirms in my arms in an attempt to get closer to the little grey-haired woman holding up a bacon flavored dog bone.

“Not after I bribe him with treats! Isn’t that right, angel baby?” She coos as she gives him the treat and one to Aika who barely even chews it. I set Mills down on the floor and quickly realize I might not reach the top three favorite people for Mills after my grandparents and Emma are through with him.

“It smells delicious in here, could you use any help?” Emma offers while gesturing to the food my grandmother has been preparing for us.

“Oh, honey that would be delightful. Would you mind setting the table? The place settings are there and the plates are in this cabinet here. Austin, why don’t you and PawPaw go take the pups out for a bathroom break before we eat?” Nana essentially shoos us out the door. I give Emma a look that says, ‘I’m sorry for her’ before I follow PawPaw out. Emma giggles and gets started setting the table as I hear Nana already telling Emma to call them Nana and PawPaw before beginning her round of twenty questions. This is going to be a long lunch.

After we make it back inside and I ensure Emma is relatively unscathed from Nana’s well-meaning yet intrusive interrogation, we sit down and relish an enjoyable meal getting to know Emma and catching up about everyone’s week. After we eat, Emma offers to help clean up the kitchen but is kindly denied by my grandmother who insists I take her on a tour of the farm.

“How bad was it?” I ask.

“It wasn’t bad! I’m kind of in love with your grandparents. Your Nana is hilarious.” Oh god, Nana must’ve not filtered herself at all. I love that about her but there is no telling what came out of that woman’s mouth.

“How embarrassed should I be then?”

“Not at all. Unless you count the story where she told me about you ripping the butt of your new pants while helping your PawPaw repair the cow fence and she stitched them back together while you were still in them.”Jesus Christ.

“Okay, in my defense, I was ten and they didn’t have any clothes here that would fit for me to wear while she fixed them. PawPaw needed help before the rain came in that next day.” Emma laughs and grabs my hand while intertwining our fingers.

“I think it’s cute. I love how much time you spent here as a kid. Both of my grandparents passed away when I was eight, so my memories with them, while still loving and wonderful, are few.”

“Did she beg you to marry me and have my babies before I die old and alone?” I ask somewhat joking but turn serious when I look at Emma’s face.

“Not exactly. She did say that she thought we were perfect together and would make beautiful babies.” She declares with a pink tint to her cheeks.

“Can’t say I’d disagree with that, but I’m so sorry if she made you uncomfortable.” We stop at the edge of one of the fences and look out at the cows and I decide to hug her from behind. She relaxes in my embrace as I take a whiff of her floral scent.

“She didn’t. It’s clear how much she adores you and I love that she was so welcoming and kind to me.”

“Thanks for coming with me today.” I kiss her temple.

“Thank you for inviting me… and for everything this weekend. It’s been amazing. I’m almost sad for it to end.” She whispers.

“Me too, Sugar. I’m not going anywhere though.” She nods and looks out at the cow pasture.

When we head back inside, Emma excuses herself to the restroom where Nana ambushes me.

“Oh, Austin. We love her! She is just smitten with you and I’m so glad you both met. She didn’t tell me much about her past, but I can tell that girl has been heartbroken before but she is falling for you. The way she looked at you during lunch just made my heart flutter. Even PawPaw noticed.” She says while pointing to my very taciturn grandfather who didn’t say much even on his most talkative days.

“Don’t scare her away with all of that, Nana. It’s only been a weekend. I do like her and plan to see her again though.”

“Well praise Jesus!” Nana says with her arms thrown dramatically in the air. I glance at PawPaw who just wears his signature smirk at her dramatics and gives me a wink. Emma returns and after we eat a slice of apple pie that Nana made, we start making our way to the front door.

“Now Emma dear, you come back here and visit anytime. Even if my grandson doesn’t offer, you come back and have some dinner with us one day, ya hear?” Emma giggles and I can’t help but chuckle at Nana.

“Yes ma’am, I’d love that. Thank you so much for graciously welcoming me. The food was amazing and the company was even better.” Emma says with a smile and hugs Nana. I’m a bit surprised when I see PawPaw extend his arms open for a hug as he’s usually a much more reserved man and gently hugged Emma goodbye. I have no doubts this woman could turn a grizzly into a teddy bear. After hugging my grandparent’s goodbye and leaving with a doggy bag of leftovers for each of us, we load the dogs and ourselves up in my truck and head back to my house.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and Emma told me she needed to run to the grocery store and do some meal prepping for the week, so she gathered up her bag and after she kissed the dogs about four times each, we get back in my truck so I could take her home. Why am I dreading this? I usually enjoy my alone time and crave it but the thought of getting in an empty bed tonight feels strange. We get inside and I offer to carry her bag into the house for her. Mainly, I just want to look around and make sure everything is secure for my own peace of mind. I take her bag all the way to her bedroom and set it on the bench she has at the end of her bed.

“You gonna be alright this week? Feel comfortable staying here alone?” I ask her.

“Mmhmm.” She replies as she wraps her arms around my neck.

“What do you say we have dinner again on Friday?”

“That sounds amazing. I’d love too.” She replies with a smile.

“Alright, Sugar. Well I won’t keep you any longer but I’ll text you or call you later tonight if you’d like.”

“Yes please. Now kiss me before you leave.” Emma demands.

“Yes ma’am.” I smirk as I lean down and capture her lips with my own. We make out for a minute or two before Emma leans back to catch her breath.

“Walk me to the door?” I ask her and she nods while holding my hand. It feels like we are both trying to prolong our time together.

“Got a lot of jobs lined up for the week?” She asks as we walk down the hallway.

“Well, we’re going to finish up the chimney and siding area of that house we were working on last week and should be done by Tuesday afternoon. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to assess some work and give out quotes on three different sites so that should be good. I’m also going to put up a privacy fence at a house a few streets over from here this week. I’ll be busy but nothing too crazy.” I tell her and she nods. Time to go, I remind myself.

“Have a good night darlin’ and be safe out running your errands.” “You too, Sy. Talk to you in a bit.” She says and kisses me before I head out to my truck and drive off. I see her wave goodbye at the door and know that I’m not going to be able to wait until Friday to see her again.

Part 9

Taglist: Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood

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softichill · 1 year ago

Text

The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 1 - The Workers in the Walls

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

[Click]

[Shifting, Otto clears his throat]

Otto: Yesterday evening marked my first true session with the girl. Signs of significant disorder are greater than I initially thought. Her imagination is… vast. But one phrase in particular has become an earworm of sorts.

[Click, this time of a tape being inserted]

Recording of Noone: “He was right in front of me breathing hard… That’s what I remember most. The awful smell, like when sausage goes bad.”

[Click, the tape stops]

Otto: Scent while dreaming is a rarity. An indication of sensory transcendence. She may be a fine candidate for a neurological study… but her health must come first. [Sigh] There are undoubtedly other details I missed in her recount.

Otto: [Deep breath] From the top, then. [The tape begins to rewind] Sleep be damned tonight.

[Intro plays]

[Click]

Otto: This is the Counselor. Herein are my preliminary case notes for tape #54, session #1, patient #1220… [mumbling] referring to children by numbers… [deep breath, normal] Our relationship goes beyond mere ethics, so I can leave that practice to the heartless quacks on the upper floors. But to remain professional, I’ll use a moniker the girl has given herself… Noone. (A/N: pronounced like noon)

[quiet tapping as a drink is poured]

Otto: Noone has been in CPI care for a fortnight. Given her rather remarkable medical history, her mental state seems relatively unremarkable. [stirring his drink] She finds herself in my ward due to worsening, though not recurring, nightly afflictions. Parasomnia isn’t uncommon among patients; not to imply she’s unworthy of treatment, only that there are others worse off.

[Otto shifts in his seat and sips his drink before setting it down]

Otto: Noone also displays signs of mild trauma. As such, Nightmare Disorder is possible. Given her diffidence, the focus for this session is to build rapport. I’m hopeful Noone will open up and we’ll learn what lies inside that little head.

[Ceramic clicking, Otto says “Oh!” at the sound of papers being knocked over. More ceramic, the audio cuts]

[A door closes]

Otto: Take the big chair, Noone. Sit, lie, saddle it like a horse, whatever you please.

[Otto pulls out paper as Noone sits down. The chair creaks]

[quiet jazz starts to play]

Otto: How’s that?

Noone: …fine I guess.

Otto: [Walking to his chair] That look on your face says there’s more on your mind.

Noone: It’s… it’s like the music I used to hear through the walls. In our old apartment. Before we moved into the fancy house.

Otto: Would you like to talk about that? Your old apartment?

Noone: No, counselor.

Otto: Alright. An easier question to start. How are you feeling today?

Noone: …Bit sad.

Otto: For any reason in particular?

Noone: …Um… the red flower… mum and dad left. It went all wrinkled. I tried lifting a petal and… it broke off. But, then I saw why- little crawlies, everywhere underneath the dirt.

Otto: Aphids? How unpleasant. [shift] Must be hard, here all alone. That wasn’t just a flower to you, was it?

Noone: No, counselor.

Otto: Y-Your parents only want you to feel like you again. And we’ll see to that! One day at a time.

[Otto writes something]

Otto: Have you been sleeping?

Noone: Yes, counselor.

Otto: Call me Otto. Sleeping well?

Noone: …Yes.

Otto: Noone? This is a place of honesty. The truth, please.

Noone: …Fine. Middle of the night, I keep waking.

Otto: And are you perspiring?

Noone: …um…

Otto: Sweating?

Noone: Oh. Uh, yes. And, my heart beats like there’s a- pecking bird in my chest.

Otto: Did these nightmares coincide with the onset of your sickness?

Noone: No. O-only after.

Otto: And, do you remember your nightmares or do they disappear come morning?

Noone: I remember. Everything.

Otto: [pause, shifting] …Would you be alright to tell me about them? Now, or, later?

Noone: Yes. Um… The one I had last night, it’s still here. The feeling. But, may I have some juice? My head’s light, and mum says it helps.

Otto: (amused) I’m not sure that’s true. Regardless, you may.

[audio cuts]

[audio resumes. Noone is sipping a juice box.]

Otto: I see you eyeing my painting. I’ve had it since I was a boy. “The Zahir’s Gaze”, it’s titled.

Noone: Why is it so- blurry?

Otto: It’s a hidden image. The trick is to unfocus your eyes. Try it!

[short pause]

Otto: There! Can you make it out now?

Noone: …no.

Otto: I’ve got an idea. Keep your eyes on the painting- let your mind wander. Meanwhile, you can tell me your dream! If you’ve finished your juice.

Noone: [sipping] I have.

Otto: From the beginning, then.

[pause]

Noone: …It started when I woke up. Somewhere I didn’t belong.

Otto: Describe this place, please.

Noone: Everything was white. Only slowly I realized snow was falling on a field. The view was peaceful looking out from so high up. Like I was… one. With the cold.

Otto: You felt this cold?

Noone: Not like the counties in winter, but, more like watching someone who is chilled. Around me, but not… in me.

[the music quietly stops. Ambience for the dream begins]

Noone: I turned away from the window, which was only a hole in the stone wall of the curved passageway, that stretched on a long ways. This- odd feeling, told me to get up. But I couldn’t stand because the ceiling was so low. I crawled ahead and… if not for the tiniest bit of light I would have fallen. Another passageway appeared on the floor. Its edges throbbing in the dark. Suddenly I- I heard a clinking from below.

Noone: That same feeling told me I was lost inside a giant. A huge one made out of stone, and the only way out was to keep going through its veins. I climbed into the pitch dark,

[Dream!Noone gasps, the sound of sliding plays]

Noone: And immediately began sliding down the icy wetness, going and going, faster and faster. I thought the slide would never end and just- and-

[Dream!Noone grunts as she hits the ground. The sliding stops]

Noone: It shot me out.

Otto: …Did it hurt?

Noone: …Not like when you fall for real.

[footsteps]

Noone: I can see what it is now! The painting! A-a tiger, and two moons.

Otto: That’s not quite right.

[Noone walks back]

Noone: (with interest) I’ve never seen a tiger before.

Otto: Keep trying! Remember to unfocus. Continue, as you wish.

[pause]

Noone: An orange glowing came from a candle. But the light didn’t reach the room’s corners. A tiny hole had been cut out of the stone beside me. “The snow,” I thought. “How nice it would be to watch fall again.” I look through, but there was no snow. [ambience picks up] Only a room, brimming with glass jars. Light danced through them, coming from a doorway on the opposite side. Until… a figure stepped through it.

Noone: This HUGE man. Wore a long coat and fishing hat. His face kind of… dripped as he watched me. Then he was gone. W- He was an.... I-I can’t remember. It’s the only thing I can’t remember.

Otto: Could it have been someone you know, your father perhaps?

Noone: (immediately) No. This man doesn’t belong to our world.

Otto: I don’t quite follow.

Noone: That’s just the feeling he gave.

Otto: You keep mentioning this “feeling”. Can you try to explain?

Noone: You can’t understand! Not unless you were there- you just can’t!

Otto: It’s alright, Noone. We don’t have to talk about him. Relax. Breathe.

[Noone takes 3 exaggerated, slow breaths]

[ambience gets slightly louder. It’s faint, clicking machinery]

Noone: Turning from the hole, I spotted an exit on the far wall. That’s where the clinking was the loudest. I started towards it, when a shadow ran out from the corner, that of a child. I shouted “Hey!”

[Dream!Noone: Hey! Where are we?]

Noone: “Where are we?” But, quiet as a mouse, he climbed through the pulsing exit. And carelessly I followed.

[Dream!Noone grunts as she hops through the exit]

[Machinery gets louder]

Noone: The room over was bigger. And the child was gone. All over the walls and floors, were more pulsing passages. Like living ant tunnels. All kinds of springs laid about, and little oil cans and strange tools.

[Dream!Noone gasps]

Noone: Suddenly, footsteps. Approaching, matching the rhythm of the clinking. [sound of a wooden crate] Knowing I didn’t belong I hid behind a wooden box.

[a hoard of small footsteps alongside the machinery]

Noone: Peeking up, I saw other small shadows entering the room. They step by each other silently. Most passed into different doors, but two stayed behind, searching for the springs. They were not children. Not at all. Even in dim light they remain shadows. Things not quite there, as if forgotten, not wanting to be seen.

[Things clicking, cracking, and moving around]

Noone: They held nasty tools and… their empty faces showed they weren’t very bright. Both stood, looked down a passageway… and jumped.

[Dream!Noone gets up and follows them]

Noone: With nowhere to go I did the same, climbing to the platform below.

[Dream!Noone lands. The machinery is even louder now]

Noone: I finally saw what was making all that noise. Golden, spinning wheels. Fat ones, small ones, skinny ones, and they went down so deep I couldn’t see the end! I didn’t know what they were until that faraway feeling came back and told me.

Noone: They were gears. With- teeth which locked perfectly into one another, clicking on and on in a song that never stopped. There were a hundred-hundred of the dull little shadows, working to keep the mechanisms going. Felt… without their doing, the gears would surely stop. And the giant would break apart stone-by-stone... But as I leaned over the edge, distracted, my foot must’ve knocked a wrench.

[a quick clink. Dream!Noone gasps]

[the wrench falls a long way down]

Noone: All the shadows stared up. And a few begin climbing my way. They move separately, but… as one. [Dream!Noone breathing quickly] I panicked and tucked between a set of levers, in the tight space my dress got caught [Dream!Noone grunts] on the tooth of a massive gear, pulled me up and around until my dress tore [tearing fabric, Dream!Noone yelping] shooting me onto a pipe below, where I lost my grip only to hit another platform.

[Dream!Noone lands, breathing heavily]

Noone: The shadows stopped chasing me, working again as… the yank* took the piece of my dress, now stuck between two gears, causing all the others to slow.

Noone: While they were bothered, I took the chance to escape.

[Dream!Noone running, machinery fades out]

Noone: The wall in front of me went… went down and around, f-forever and ever. Along with the mechanisms. I grabbed onto a rod, sliding on, when a big creak [metal groan] groaned above, and the gears went right back to singing their song.

[machinery starts again]

Noone: The ripped fabric floated down before me, passing by a tiny crack in the stone. Painful cries came through it. [faint echoey scream] I shouldn’t have wanted to know what was on the other side, but… I did.

[more screaming]

Noone: A small room with chains covering the floor. And 3 identical nun-like dresses, freshly pressed, hanging by a bed. Then, the chains jangled [Chains jingling, man gasping], and my heart stopped. [Man groans] A frail body slumped against the wall, a chain around his neck. He was right in front of me breathing hard… That’s what I remember most. The awful smell, like when sausage goes bad.

Otto: Hold on a minute, Noone. [Noone gasps. Ambience suddenly stops] You distinctly smelt his breath?

Noone: Not his breath. Him. So rotten, it still stings my nose now.

Otto: How certain are you?

Noone: You told me to tell the truth, no? I am.

[Otto quickly writing]

Noone: Do you still want to hear the rest of my nightmare?

[Otto still writing]

Noone: Otto?

Otto: Hm? O-oh. Apologies. My mind was divided, and that’s not fair to you.

Noone: [quiet sigh] Anyways.

Noone: Looking through that crack, I realized something. (whisper) I was inside the walls. Like a rat. On the other side was an entire world. (normal) And everything got… w-worse from there.

[very quiet ticking]

Noone: Lower and lower I climbed until I had gone- down so deep, that there was nothing but steam and darkness. And louder ticking, back, and forth. Back, and forth. Wanting to give up I sat listening.

[ticking is more noticeable]

Noone: I’d nearly fallen asleep, when suddenly a small shape crawled out from inside the wall below. “Another Worker came for me,” I thought. But… when they looked up… I saw their eyes. A child. For certain, this time. And… their hair was covered in goo, which made it hard to tell if they were a boy or a girl. Still, I climbed down, full of energy.

[Dream!Noone climbing down]

Noone: Nearly the amount I used to have.

Noone: We stood in silence, a moment. Stuck in their hair was… black liquid moving like smoke.

Noone: “What’s in your-” [Dream!Noone at the same time] I started, [child shushing] but they put a hand over my mouth. Not until they pointed at the wall, did I understand why. Its another crack, led to yet another chamber.

[Dream!Noone and child walking over. Metallic hammering starts up]

Noone: It was a hideous workshop. All around were… half-made… projects? Built from wood and metal, with all kinds of straps and cranks. Their shapes made my chest tighten. A collection of… masks was- on the shelves with screws and spikes on them, positioned to fit perfectly into a mouth!

Noone: A tall woman bent over a new project, [faint humming] wearing a familiar dress. Long heavy chains coming out under its tail. [Chains scraping, more humming] She moaned, enjoying herself. I could feel she’d been at it for hours. Her presence alone told that she was the keeper of this stone giant. Of the world beyond the walls.

Noone: Turning to a pile of scraps… I saw her face. Equally… old and young, and her s-skin stretched back so tight that… only her eyes seemed human. I wanted so badly to know what she was building, and to scream all the same…

Noone: But before I could do either my new friend pulled me away. They pointed up.

Noone: From between the planks, a shadow studied us. The child pulled my arm but it was already too late. The Worker leapt down besides me, inspecting my body like a tool, reaching out with its wrench. The child pushed me away, [the sound of burning] letting a sliver of light shine out from the workshop to hit the shadow. Faster than fast, it tucked back into darkness, [sound stops] desperate to keep hidden.

[pause]

Otto: Noone, why have you stopped?

Noone: I’m thinking. …The next bit is hard to describe. The nightmare- it shifted.

[ambience picks up, earlier sound of machinery]

Noone: Steam reached around us. And we came to a place at the bottom of the gears. Between the walls.

[whoosh, tick]

[whoosh, tock]

[whoosh, tick]

Noone: In front of us, a long pendulum whooshed back and forth.

[whoosh, tick]

[whoosh, tock]

Noone: My friend grabbed hold as it swung by. I let it go past one, [tick], two, [tock], three times before finding the courage to do the same. We climbed as the pendulum rocked left and right, making my head dizzy. “Just a little more,” I repeated to myself, until my friend reached out a hand to pull me up.

[Both Dream!Noone and child grunt as she’s pulled up]

Noone: We’d made it. Finally, the center of the clock. The room was round with a spiral staircase, and a machine made of little metallic fingers, tapping a violent rhythm.

Noone: The ceiling was a white- clock face, but… all the numbers were wrong.

Noone: We immediately ran up the stairs [footsteps] and at the top, we stepped out into a courtyard.

[Dream!Noone and child breathing, stepping on grass. Machinery and ticking fades out]

Noone: My body began shaking as I heard them. [Faint screaming] Shouts and shrieks of pain. All I could do was stare up at the circular walls, which I had just been inside. This was the true building. There were a million rooms like the second one I peered into, all the way up, with- hands and limbs reaching out from between the bars that kept them locked in. My heart pounded like one of them. A Prisoner, trying to get free.

[Screaming and shrieking continues]

Noone: I shouted “Wait, please!”

[Dream!Noone: Wait! Please!]

Noone: But my friend was across the courtyard. Then, a jingling. The tall woman jumped down from above [jingling, thump] and with thumping steps, she went after my friend. A chain leapt out beneath her dress, like a snake. It caught their leg and the woman dragged the child through the snow, kicking and yelling.

[child struggling]

Noone: My friend scared to tears [child: Help!] yelled for help, and the woman spotted me. She began plodding my way and fear froze my feet. Getting closer and closer and all I could think was “Who brought me here, and why was I made to know these secrets?!” [chains jangling]

Noone: With skin so tight her mouth opened only a sliver with blackened teeth inside, hungry for something! …Something that swelled inside me.

[all ambience cuts off]

Noone: …Then I woke up.

Otto: …That’s… awful, Noone. I’m sorry. The woman in particular sounds… disturbing.

Noone: Yes. But, she didn’t scare me most. Not after I woke up. It was the Workers.

Otto: Hm… because they were mindless?

Noone: No. Because they were hidden. Nobody knew they existed… that’s how I feel sometimes. Since getting the water sickness, (increasing distress) as if things are in my body but instead of making me tick they’re killing me, like the bugs in the flower pot- Ugh, I can feel them in my head!!!

Otto: Noone. Listen to me. I’ll do everything within the limits of my command to help you, but there’s nothing bad inside you. Nothing.

Noone: …um…alright.

Otto: [pause] I have… one more question, and I think it’s enough for your first day, okay?

Noone: Okay.

Otto: Noone, have you ever heard of mutual dreaming?

Noone: Mutual dreaming?

Otto: Sharing the… experience with another person.

Noone: How could what’s in my head be in someone else’s head? And who would I share it with?

Otto: Questions that have hounded my outer colleagues for years. Your perception of temperature and smell while dreaming is sometimes thought to be an indicator of this transpersonal phenomenon. While I’m not convinced of its ontological validity, I’ve longed to study a case like yours. Unfortunately- I’ve only known one other person to exhibit this faculty, years ago-

Noone: Who? Were they like me?

Otto: …My… (quietly) beloved Cici**... uh- not quite. In any case, my ambitions fell off, I… I lost sight, of… many things. But you’ve stimulated a part of me nearly forgotten.

Noone: Oh. I think I see it now, Otto.

Otto: Yes! That’s right! We’re in this together.

Noone: No. The painting.

Otto: Oh.

Noone: It’s a map. Of stars and two circles around it.

Otto: Yes! Good! An astrolabe, in fact.

Noone: Astrolabe?

Otto: An ancient instrument, used to locate positions in time and space. Now, surely, you’re exhausted-

Noone: I don’t want to go to my room. To sleep. Will… will you walk me back?

Otto: Of course! And we can’t forget your nightly confectionary. [the sound of wrappers] Here now, take your pick.

[Wrapper crinkling]

Otto: Sweets for my sweet.

[ceramic clinking]

[click]

[Outro plays]

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

*It's a little hard to tell what word she says here

**I have no idea if this is how it's spelled

#little nightmares #the sounds of nightmares #tson #ln podcast #transcript #ln otto #ln noone #otto #noone #GAH there's so many things in this episode alone #Noone choosing the name here herself and clearly being No one.....#The warden/torturer lady wearing a ''familiar'' dress #Whatever the Ferryman was up to #AAAA there's so much to see here!!!!!!!!#Anywho hopefully this transcript helps people know what happens in the episode!!!#the sounds of nightmares transcript

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shyalia · 3 months ago

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I would like to introduce my new (accidental) OC!

Meet Cordelia Hunt, aka "Cory"!! She is a lemur mutant in the TMNT AU world of The Day the World Broke by @saladmix. And in case you were wondering... yes, she's that lemur mutant.

Fun fact, the ring-tailed lemur is my favorite animal. Around 6 months-ish ago, I asked Saladmix if I may make a small request for a lemur mutant to appear in the story somewhere. Nothing specific or anything, even just a glimpse of one would suffice. To my delight, she had a spot in mind, yay! -fast forward 4-5 months to her debut-

Now, it wasn't intentional for her to become a fleshed-out character when she was added to the story. She was a no-name background character who served a purpose and that was to be the end of it. But, a couple of weeks ago after chapter 24 was posted, my brain wouldn't shut up about her. Cue all of the headcanons, personality, things she's accomplished in the past, what happened when the apocalypse hit, and how she got to where she was at that point in the story, etc etc etc. All at 2am when I should have been sleeping. (Because of course, when else would inspiration strike?)

With Saladmix's permission, Cory now has her own story living inside my head that I may write someday. But in the meantime, here's some details on her:

She was adopted as a young girl, roughly age 2-3. Her adoptive dad was a dhole mutant, a humble man, and a hard worker. Made an honest living and did everything in his power to raise Cory well. It was just the two of them, and they were very close. She considered him her real dad, being with him for as long as she could remember.

She worked as a mechanic in her dad's auto shop in New York City. She had displayed an interest in her dad's work from a young age and he willingly taught her. She became quite skilled in working on vehicles and knowing how to repair them.

Because of her auto repair knowledge, she was taken into the group she is a part of when we meet her in the story. Despite not agreeing with their actions, she joined this group fairly early in the apocalypse. It's more out of necessity for survival rather than desire.

She had a passion for geology and was saving up to go to school to study it. She had a big collection of rocks, minerals and fossils in her room, her most treasured one being the aventurine quartz.

When she was younger, her dad wouldn't let her bring an entire bucket of fancy-looking rocks home but allowed her to pick one "special" one to remember the day by. She kept that tradition ever since, always ensuring to bring home a special rock from each adventure. Every. Single. Time.

Her favourite colour was green- close second being blue- as it reminded her of nature. A lot of her spare time was spent in Central Park, or outside of the city to go hiking.

She was part of her high school's track and field team, even if she would have preferred other extracurricular activities. She made the top record in the Triple Jump at a track and field meet in her freshman year, beating it again in her sophomore year and has been undefeated since. Some claimed she was cheating since her species is known for their nimbleness and leaping, but the school board accepted it nonetheless.

She was an unfortunate target for bullies during her younger years. They would often pull on her long tail and call her Zoboomafoo or King Julian, mocking her with "Move it move it". Lame insults (because bullies are lame and always go for the cheap shots). But she became self-conscious and when she was anxious, she always held onto her tail to protect herself and feel less vulnerable.

I've got more, but will save that for if/when I actually write her story! Let me know if that's something anyone would be interested in reading?

#the day the world broke tmnt fic #accidental oc oops I swear it wasn't intentional #mutant ring-tailed lemur girl #your honor I swear she is a good person she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time #all she wanted to do was collect and study rocks but the apocalypse decided to stroll on in and crush those dreams #tdtwb tmnt #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt multiverse #horror au #ao3 fanfic #alternate universe #seriously go read this fic if you haven't already

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triplexdoublex · 2 months ago

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Let Go (Chapter 1)

Paring: Jaden Hossler x Landon Barker

Tags/Warnings: blonde Jaden, dual POV , internalized homophobia, homophobia, religious gulit, scent kink, masturbation, mentions of Coopers death,

A/N: Breaking this long ass fic into chapters as requested. Landon’s 20 as this takes place last year.

Landon

Ever since Jaden started working with my dad and signed to his record label, our house has become his second home. And with a new Album in the works, Jaden’s been here more than usual lately, recording with my dad in his home studio until late at night. Most nights after recording he just crashes here. Despite the house having numerous guest rooms, Jaden usually opts for sleeping in my room.

The first time my dad introduced me to Jaden the two of us clicked right away and quickly became best friends, so I don’t mind the company; in fact I might enjoy it a little too much.

Jaden

After a long , but productive day of recording it feels great to just chill and play some video games in Landon’s room before we go to sleep. Landon’s sitting cross-legged on his bed just scrolling through social media, while im sitting at the end of the bed kicking serious ass in Call of Duty. I honestly love that about our friendship, how we can be doing totally different things at times and yet still enjoys eachother’s company. And there’s never any need for annoying small talk or pressure to feel like either of us have to keep the conversation going. But at the same time we can talk to each other about anything and everything. The only other person I was able to do that with was Cooper. Fuck, I miss him, man. His death broke me, and although I’ve been getting help and healing I’m not sure I’ll ever be fully put back together, but I’m trying. It’s part of the reason why I crash in Landon’s room almost every night. Besides it being easier than going back home for the night, staying with Landon makes feel less alone and keeps me from getting lost in own head. He’s been a big help with adjusting to life in LA too, Moving from the south to LA a few years ago was a bit of a culture shock for me, and I don’t know what I would have done without Landon in my life to guide me through it. I seriously love him so much…No Homo. Ugh, I wish I could stop feeling the need to think or say shit like that anytime I compliment or express how much one of my male friends mean to me. Growing up in a Conservative Christian household in Texas and Tennessee will definitely do that to you. I’ve definitely grown as a person and have become more open minded and accepting since moving to LA. I’ve met and worked with some of the coolest people, a lot of which are from the LGBT+ community, including some of my fans—who i adore more than anything. I’m tying my hardest to let go of the homophobic ways of thinking that’s been ingrained in me from my life in the south and Christianity, and for the most part I have. I even joined an inclusive church out here but something about it still makes me uncomfortable for some reason and I can’t quite put my finger on it, and why I have the insitent need to make sure no one assumes or gets the impression that I’m gay, because I’m not, I’m totally straight.

Landon

I’m bisexual, I’ve known that for some time. Maybe bi-curious is more accurate? I don’t really know. All I know is as far back as I can remember I’ve found both women and men attractive, I thought everyone did. It wasn’t until I was like fourteen and one of my friends asked me if I liked the outfit he had picked out for the first day of freshman year, and I told him I thought he would look cute in it, and he asked me if I was gay? I never gave it much thought before, with LA being one of the most LGBT+ friendly places in the United States, I never really had to, it didn’t matter. But after that I found myself wanting an answer to that question too. And with some unsupervised computer time and a bottle of lotion, I quickly learned that I was, in fact, at the very least, bisexual. And although I never actually developed any crushes on my male friends or felt the urge to experiment with them, the glow of the computer screen in my dark bedroom at night became a routine, became like NyQuil to me. I’ve kept it to myself all these years, never feeling the need to come out as it was more of just a guilty pleasure and I was content with not taking it further in real life, but that all changed one day this past year while playing basketball with Jaden in the LA heat. I was about to go for a slam dunk, when Jaden jumped right in front of me, arms up, blocking my shot. The sweaty musk of Jaden’s underarms fighting its way through his fading deodorant took me by surprise. I don’t know if it was his pheromones or what, but I would have bottled the scent and doused myself with it until I drowned, It was that intoxicating. I wanted more, wanted him, his sweat, his smell, his body, his everything— fuck, I wanted Jaden.

Jaden

I’m about win Call of Duty when out of nowhere I get shot.

“Fuuuck, I was sooo close,” My body falls back in defeat, my head accidentally landing in Landon’s lap. “Oh shit, dude, sorry!” I quickly sit back up, but Landon stops me.

“It’s fine,” he says “I don’t mind. You’ve been playing that game all night. Just relax.”

“O-ok, you uh..” I scratch the back of my neck, “You sure?” I question, but I’m laying back down before he even answers.

My brain is overflowing with confusing thoughts: Is this normal? Do guy friends do this type of stuff? Is this cuddling, it certainly feels like at least a form of cuddling. And my body seems to be responding the same way as it does to cuddling; I feel safe and comfortable and a little warm inside. I’ve only cuddled with girls though. I didn’t know you could cuddle with your guy friends too? And that’s like acceptable? I’m still learning where the line between anti-toxic masculinity and being gay crosses or if that’s even a thing? But one thing is for sure, LA and the South have VERY different opinions on what’s considered gay.

What’s considered gay in the South: looking at another guy for more than two seconds, hugging another male (a quick pat is all you need), giving a guy a compliment, having excellent hygiene— hell I know some guys that don’t wash their ass cuz ‘it’s gay.’

What’s considered gay in LA: Actually being gay. So since I’m straight I guess this is okay? I hope so because I hate to admit that I really like this.

Landon

Don’t touch his hair, don’t get hard, don’t touch his hair, don’t get hard .But fuck it’s all I wanna do. I’ve had this fantasy many times before except usually he’s face down in my lap, my fingers lost in his hair as I palm the back of his head.

I shake my head to clear the image from my mind like an Etch-a stretch.I hate that sometimes my desire for him is so strong, I think about him in ways I know he wouldn’t approve of. It feels like betrayal, it feels wrong. He’s my best friend, I don’t like hiding this from him, but I know, he would be disgusted with me if he knew, I mean wouldn’t anyone, gay, bi or not? Imagine finding out the person you trust the most has been secretly getting off to you. I do my best not to give into the temptation, but how can I not when he’s gone at the studio all day and my bedsheets still smell like him.

I shouldn’t but I do, I let my fingertips flirt with pieces of his bleach blonde hair— my absolute favorite look on him by the way— aimlessly twirling small tuffs as Jaden searches through Netflix for something to watch. In the short time it takes him to choose something, my fingers have found themselves even deeper, my nails lightly grazing his scalp in a circular motion. I half expect him to tell me to stop any second now but when he lets out a small moan, it’s me who stops.

Jaden

“Holy shit, man, I’m sorry. I-I just got way too relaxed there for a second,” I blurt out in embarrassment the second I feel Landon’s hand pause in my hair. It was kind of an odd thing for him to do in the first place, and at the beginning, my old ways of thinking started creeping back in, but then I noticed my body slowly relaxing into his touch. We’ve spent so much time together lately, I think he’s just stating to know me better than I know myself, because after a long day in the studio, relaxation, is exactly what I need

“No worries,” Landon says with a small chuff of laughter “Everything’s all good bro. You really gotta stop apologizing tonight.” He starts scratching my scalp again but then pauses once more. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Actually, umm i-if you don’t mind doing it just a little longer, it’s really helping me unwind before bed.”

“Of course,” Landon agrees.

Landon

And now he’s asleep in my lap. God, he’s so beautiful, I could stare at him forever; his flawless skin, jaw so sharp it could kill a man, his full pink lips just slightly part—nonooonoo, fuck, I gotta get him off me before my dick wakes him up first. I cradle the back of his head with my hands and gently lift him from my lap, replacing my body with a pillow. He’s on my side of the bed, so I have no choice but to sleep on his.

Not even five minutes into being on his side I know there’s no way I’m getting any sleep, because despite being tired, part of me is very alert right now. I can’t control it, his smell is all around me; the sheet under me, the blankets on top, and don’t even get me started on his pillow— I can see the TMZ headlines now: ‘Landon Barker dead at 20! It appears the son of Blink182’s drummer, Travis Barker has died from accidentally asphyxiating himself with a pillow.’ I’d bury my face in it and forget to come up for air.

There’s only one thing I can do to fix it, it certainly isn’t gonna go away on its own. This time I allow myself to think of Jaden as I tug on my cock because I know it’s the quickest way to finish; alternating between pretending my tight grip is his mouth and his ass. I get too lost in the fantasy and before I can stop myself a breathy “Jaden,” tumbles from my lips…

#jaden x landon #Jaden x Landon smut #jaden hossler smut #jxdn smut #Landon Barker smut #Jaden Hossler #jxdn #Landon barker #Jaden Hossler fanfic #jxdn fanfic #landon barker fanfic

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shipandrunforit · 1 year ago

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Dropping some Heartsteel head cannons I have bc these thoughts won’t leave me alone and I’m curious how much they are going to tie in magic with this (bc Kayn and Ezreal still have their powers)

Kayn and Rhaast

Was a street kid growing, something happened that lead to him being orphaned and living on the streets for a few years

Accidentally released rhaast while trying to steal things from a museum, Rhaasf was not happy about having the situation and tried to leave but Kayn didn’t let him go out of spite.

Two slowly grew to be friends but aren’t the healthiest of friends with Kayns ego feeding into Rhaast, especially when their on stage, and Rhaast has a tendency to voice and pressure kayn to follow through on intrusive thoughts or actions.

Rhaaat was the one who thought of them entering the music industry (wanted everyone’s eyes on him) and so they worked their ass off to get into the industry.

Rhaast also enjoys the dramatics, got very board sitting in the weapon for years and enjoys putting on a show and being a show off.

Ezreal

Was sort of like those Disney kids from the Mickey Mouse club, was how he got into the industry at such a young age. (Also could be why kayn calls him the pop star Prince, is bc he was everywhere for a while).

Is an orphan and is being raised by his uncle

Not sure how he got teleportation when he doesn’t seem to have the gauntlet but he very much loves using his abilities to jump around the city and do parkour.

Would probably also use it to sneak out at times either to hide from his old manager when he was in trouble

First time he did this in front of the boys was bc he was too lazy to walk to the kitchen and he scared the crap out of K’Sante, still make jokes about it.

The dog sleeps in his room, was also the one to name the dog.

Good af editing, especially on computers

Yone

Started out as a dj and went to music school and even taught his brother a few basics of being a dj as well.

Still had a falling out with his brother bc he saw how bad the industry was and didn’t want Yasuo to get involved. Led to them having a fight and haven’t really talked since

Is very into mythology and folklore (is why for his section of music video we see the azukana spirt. Is also partially bc I have no fucking clue how else to tie that part of his backstory into this).

Boys played a prank on him by switching his coffee once, long story short they all (including Rhaast) collectively agreed never to do this again bc of how terrifying the results of this prank where

Yone is one of the best drawers in the group besides Sett and the two talk about animations sometimes (Yone animated the fox in his section)

Has made the boys Dino nuggets at one point

Sett

Is a big fan of comics, animation, and pfp fighting games

Did the drawings for his section as well as the animations for the background (am referring to that scene in the end of the music video)

Dad was a boxer who left when Sett was young

Sett also knows how to box and worked as a boxer for a bit as well as a bouncer maybe. Rap was more of a hobby but when he got signed onto a record label he switched to doing it full time

Punched the paparazzi bc they were harassing his mom

Favorite anime’s include jojo’s bizar adventures and one punch man

Meet Apjelious before Heartsteel at a meuseum that showcasing a new planetarium exhibit. Two hit it off and are now dating.

Aphelios and Alune

He and his sister were involved in choir when they were younger

Alune went off to college to get her degree in business in management and aphelios went stayed home and did his music.

Aphelios lost his voice either due to medical reasons or because of an accident, Alune transferred to a closer college to be with her brother when the news broke out.

Aphelios had a hard time getting further in the industry, was often discredited or people wouldn’t want to work with him bc it was “too much of a hassle”.

Was nervous for his sister to meet Sett only to realize the two get along great and would 100% commit crimes together

Is also a gamer and will do dates with Sett that’s just them playing video games or Sett listening to him ramble on about movie or video game scores.

Aline was very chill with the boys breaking into the studio bjt did tell them not to break anything (spoilers, they did and she was not happy about it).

Alune is the older sibling and will tease her brother and the other boys and is not afraid to fight them if push comes to shove.

K’Sante

Has written and preformed a lot of songs before Heartsteel

Used to work on songs with his ex boyfriend but the two spit up due to the strain working together put on their relationship

Is the relationship expert in the group and will give the others advise or flirting or planning dates or anything else they need help with if they ask.

Loves going to the gym with Sett, might have been how the two of them meet in the first place. They got to talking about music at one point and when they found out the other was looking for someone to collaborate with they decided to work together.

Spot for one another when in the gym

Is the other mom friend of the group but a lot more chill, let’s them get away with more things then Yone would

Is good at filming and old school editing. He and Ezrael did most of the did for the music video and let the others scribble one what they compiled then approved it.

Was against the coffee incident and straight up left the building when it happened.

#heartsteel #aphelios #heartsteel sett #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel rhaast #heartsteel yone #Heartsteel K’Sante #ksante #shieda kayn #alune #heartsteel alune #headcanons #heartsteel headcanons

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kaunis-sielu · 1 year ago

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Bad Cop

You live in a safe part of town. Being married to a cop Steve wasn’t about to put his family at risk if he could help it. He’s worked hard, you both had, but he’d made Captain in department record time and then you’d had Thomas.

Thomas’s favorite part of the day was when Daddy came home. Steve would come in, his uniform a little less crisp than it was when he left, his smile a little sadder and his eyes a little more exhausted. He’d scoop up Tommy, swing him over his head and pretend to eat his belly, much to a scream laughing Tommy’s delight. Then he’d look at you with those tired, eyes and curl an arm around your shoulders to pull you in for a kiss.

You tried not to worry about him while he was at work. You tried not to talk about his work unless he brought it up. But it wasn’t easy.

Steve is like clockwork, so when you hear someone at the door you’re confused. He shouldn’t be home, not yet. You pull up the camera and to your horror see a man in a black ball cap trying to see into your home.

You’re calling Steve before you even process what you’re doing.

“Hey Honey,”

“Someone is trying to break in.” You tell him sprinting up the stairs and to where Thomas is sleeping.

“What.”

“Someone is trying to break in!”

“Buck, my place. Now.” Steve says, “where are you Honey?”

“Thomas’ room. He’s still napping.” You whisper you can hear him sprinting.

“If you hear anything breaking get him and get in the closet okay? We’re already on our way. We don’t want the sirens on because we don’t want him to know where we are.”

“Okay.”

“Two minutes Honey.” You’ve never loved living in a small town more. Then you hear glass shatter.

“Oh no. Glass.”

“Get Thomas, and get in the closet. Do not come out until I come get you okay?”

“Okay.” You whisper, you know he can hear the fear in your voice as you make your way to the little bed that Tommy sleeps in now and scoop him up. Whoever is in your home must not realize you’re there, he’s not being quiet by any means. You hope that Thomas will go back to sleep but when you look over at him those bright blue eyes are looking right at you.

“Baby, we’ve gotta be super quiet okay? We’re playing hide and seek and we don’t want to get found okay?”

“Daddy?” He asks sleepily and you shush him gently.

“Soon. But we have to be so quiet.” How aren’t Steve and Bucky here yet? Your heart is in your throat as you listen to the feet come upstairs. “Steve. Upstairs.” You whisper into the phone holding Thomas tightly. Luckily your two year old seems to understand something isn’t okay.

“I can see the house Honey. I’m going to hang up because we’re coming in hot. I love you. Stay there.”

Nothing in your life has sounded worse that the disconnect tone.

You hear Thomas’ door open and feet come into the room but quickly leave. The only real valuable item in the room is the baby monitor. Then you hear it.

“Don’t you fucking move. Put your hands up! Put your fucking hands up!” Steve yells and Thomas looks at the door and squeals,

“Daddy!”

“You picked the wrong ass house man.” You hear Bucky say just before the closet door is pulled open and your husband yanks you to him.

“Oh thank god.” He breathes into your neck before kissing Thomas on top of his head. Then he presses a searing kiss to your lips.

“They okay Cap?” A third voice calls as two more officers come upstairs. Bucky hands off the man in the hat to the younger officer, Parker you think, and you give Sam a little smile.

“We’re okay.”

“I’m taking the rest of the day.” Steve tells Bucky who nods then heads out of the house.

“You don’t have to.”

“Honey, he broke a window in the house, I’m not leaving you here with a broken window.” Steve says kissing you again, “Also, I need this Honey. Never been so scared in my life.”

“Daddy,” Thomas reaches for Steve.

“Hey buddy, Dad’s gonna change first.” He doesn’t love holding Thomas for too long with all of his gear on, which you appreciate. “Come with me?” He asks you and you weave your fingers through his. Steve presses a kiss to the back of your hand and leads you out of the room. You go to your bedroom where his gun safe is, this one only opens with his fingerprints because you didn’t want little eyes watching and figuring out a code. Even if he couldn’t reach now that wouldn’t be the case forever. Steve puts his mace, taser and gun all in the case then changes quickly. You and Thomas sit on the bed, well you sit and Thomas practices his body slams on your pillows.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks looking over at you.

“Yea, I just can’t believe it happened.” You tell him. “I’m glad the station is so close.”

“Me too.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No, why?”

“I’m just wondering if it was a targeted attack or if it was really just bad luck on his part.”

“Until we hear otherwise it was just bad luck okay?” He says making his way to the side of the bed. “You did everything right.” He tells you cupping your face in his hands, you didn’t realize how much you’d needed to hear that. Steve leans in to kiss you when Thomas realizes that his dad is fair game to play with now.

“Put your fucking hands up Daddy!” You both freeze a breath away from one another.

“Did he?” Steve murmurs,

“Yup.” You affirm and he groans softly. You press a quick kiss to his lips. “This one is all you Rogers.” You tease as Thomas yells, “Put your fucking hands up Daddy! You’re the bad guy!” Steve groans softly dropping his forehead to your shoulder and you have to bite back a laugh.

This should be interesting.

Tag list:

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#steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader au #cop!steve rogers #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers #captain america au #captain america x reader #one shot

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gingergofastboatsmojito · 3 months ago

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I'm only going to address this topic once to set the record straight

The 3 women this post above is referring to are not Ayo, Molly, and an unknown one. Leave Ayo out of it pls!

Let me explain.

They are:

His ex-wife, Addison Tomlin, whom he co-starred in Chasing You with while they were already engaged → https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7856598/

His ex-GF Emma Greenwell whom he worked with in Shameless and he dated for 2 years prior to starting dating his ex-wife and that he left because he started dating Addison → https://m.imdb.com/title/tt3570280/mediaviewer/rm818870273/

And his current GF, MG, whom he started "dating" after his divorce, while being single, unless we consider Rosalia something other than a long-distance situationship, that was never upgraded to a serious/committed relationship by either of them or their reps.

Pretty clean track record for someone who's being accused of being a "player", "womanizer", "manwhore", etc... right?

There is a rumor, never confirmed by anyone, that says that during the filming of S2 in Chicago, before his ex-wife filed for divorce, there were too many late-night dinners between Ayo and him and Chicagoans went crazy back then with speculation, hence:

but nothing ever happened or was verified by any source.

There were more rumors about Ayo and him earlier this year before baseball-gate, post-award season/Grand Slam, and those rumors not only were never confirmed either but shortly after a blind item came out saying there was a romance on set between JAW and a co-star, so everyone thought of Ayo back then (except me who immediately narrowed it down to both Ayo OR MG, thinking MG had better chances because Jayo seemed too good to be true and I had seen how she looked at him at the SAGs)

and a few days later (after the blind item of May 21st) JAW and MG went to Copenhagen and just now MG set the record straight on Cosmopolitan Magazine, saying they started feeling like "opposites attract" in June and started dating after that. June was when they were seen together in London at a Springsteen concert (where Ayo and Cooper Wehde were too) and a few weeks prior Deux Moi started spreading rumors with no visual material attached to confirm them, saying that MG and JAW were spotted together in LA.

All the while Ayo was always very open about "not dating coworkers".

This means that we have no hard evidence about Jayo. We never did. We can only go by "chemistry", which is undeniable but hardly enough, and maybe by wishful thinking, which is just that.

If we speculate, then we need to understand those are just speculations and that Ayo is not crazy about them as she said and demonstrated time and time again, and JAW clearly doesn't even GAF about them. So far all we know for sure is that evidence supports his clean track record in terms of "cheating". I won't walk through fire for him, but I will not deny the hard proof at hand either that shows his TL is quite overlapping-free, so making JAW wear a Scarlet Letter in 2024 for being messy while also being free as a bird and having the right to fuck, date, and dump without informing the media about any of this, whoever he wants, is at the very least OBSOLETE and preposterous at worst. So CHILL!

He's clearly not a guy who fucks around and has a collection of kids he doesn't even take care of, which would be the only reprimandable behavior in this day and age unless we feel entitled to have an opinion about other people's sex life, understanding by sex: any sexual, consensual and legit activity between adults. He's a very present dad and a very busy man who has every right to sleep around or not if he feels like it, and who doesn't owe anyone any explanation about it.

I'm not sure about Ayo because, unlike JAW, she hasn't talked about her love life or made any relationship official since she broke up with her ex-BF (Burgess last year), which I fully respect. This new guy she's with was never really introduced to anyone as anything other than her date to some events. She doesn't live with him and barely even hangs with him outside those PR events because he lives in NYC. I'm not sure if the label of BF is appropriate and won't call him that unless Ayo does first, is not my place to label the guys she's with if she doesn't do it either.

What I do know is that's how misinformation is spread, by making assumptions about other ppl's personal lives, that we can theorize about till the cows go home, I certainly do, but we actually have no certainty about it. We need to remember that.

That being said, I have made clear my "open-minded and slightly parasocial" personal preference regarding Jayo on the UTT podcast, meaning I'm all for it IF it ever happens (which I deem unlikely) but most importantly I just want them to be happy, either together or with other ppl, IDC. So far, looks like the only one who looks happy is Ayo, (which I love, ofc) while JAW is being punished for daring to fuck someone other than her. THAT I WILL NEVER STAND FOR. I miss happy JAW and I miss those times in which he was the internet's BF not the "rat face manwhore who cheated on Rosalia with a clout chaser" (not my words, ofc).

Last but most definitely not least:

I hope he finds with whomever he can, what he once had while he was in a long-distance situationship with Rosa, earlier this year because it was the last time I saw him genuinely happy in public.

#the bear #jayo #jawlly #ayo edebiri #jeremy allen white #parasocial relationships #QUIT SMEARING THE GUY PLS!#I HOPE HE FINDS TRUE HAPPINESS EVENTUALLY #life happens #jayo might never happen and thats ok but lets leave him alone #jayo meta

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idontknowreallywhy · 1 year ago

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Estera Ch 7 - Gull

(Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

Scott paces, Virgil paints, John panics…

Another little warning for things discussed but not actually happening here. Some of Scott’s pondering is based on either my own experience or that of friends… sorry if it therefore seems ‘out of voice’ for him, but it’s where I think he lands at this point in the story.

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The Sunday morning sun peeked cautiously over the horizon and cast a burnt orange glow over the water as Scott paced the length of the balcony again and again. He barely noticed the changing light, his focus on wrestling his own mind into submission… with minimal success.

He wanted to run. Run until he was too exhausted to think. That would help him get out of this spiral. But he knew he’d never back get past the puppy pile he’d managed to sneak away from when he awoke suddenly desperate to see the sky. He paused and pressed his face against the glass to see them still peaceful, all in wildly different sleeping positions and, he smiled affectionately, probably making the full range of amusing sleep-noises between them.

He’d not get away with opening the door again, not now the dawn chorus had started, someone would wake. And they needed their sleep. Fine. He was trapped here for the time being.

Unless he climbed down…

He peered over the railing down at the pool deck.

No, he couldn’t run if he broke a leg. And his brothers would probably panic and assume he’d been trying something silly. Sillier than climbing down a cliff face merely because he needed to adrenaline-burn some thoughts from his mind without an audience.

Predictably they were very worried about that. John had asked him outright last night if there was any ideation - a form of words that sounded very much like Patricia in risk-management mode. Of course she’d probably had a word.

He knew why he was asking, but it was hard not to shrug it off as a non-issue. Sure, he could admit wasn’t in a great place right now… but as he told her at the start of every session when the question came - his protective factors were rock solid. And they were the brothers he was responsible for. He wasn’t ever going to deliberately do anything to hurt them, they’d suffered enough loss.

As much as he wished his family had been left with somebody more… well… Everything… Scott was what they were stuck with and despite the darker thoughts he knew logically that he was better than nothing. He knew he couldn’t knowingly leave them with all the burdens his father had left him with. One of the more frequent questions he’d yelled at the horizon from the privacy of the far side of the island was why on Earth Dad had saddled him with so much ADMIN?

A gull screeched at him in agreement.

A wry smile. He could sort the admin. He was good for something at least. And, for whatever reason, they did love him, he knew that. They kept going out of their way to demonstrate it.

And Dad had had flaws, hadn’t he? More apparent in retrospect… but Scott still loved and missed him… so it stood to reason the others might miss Scott if he was gone.

No, no silliness.

Whether he’d ever be any real use again though…

He watched the bird wheel overhead and his heart sank. No flight for him for a while. If One was needed, Alan would pilot her. He’d made the decision before poor Virgil had been forced to. His brother had been through enough dealing with Scott’s mess and selfishness recently. He seemed exhausted, he felt a stabbing guilt, and John was little better.

The pacing recommenced.

In retrospect, switching off the comm for the flight home had been unwise. But he’d felt it best that the full range of military-schooled curse words he’d yelled into the void of One’s cockpit did not end up on the official record and could not be overheard by impressionable younger brothers. It had made sense at the time. But yeah, they’d assumed the worst and… he cringed… Virgil and John seemed to have been really freaked out by something else that he needed to get to the bottom of.

Yet another thing to fix. Typical Scott Tracy, number one impulsive idiot - why think it through beforehand when you can overthink it one hundred times after the event?

The seabird suddenly nosedived to plunge into the water. He stopped to watch. It emerged empty-beaked and Scott felt a twinge of sympathy. Better luck next time little friend. The gull seemed to shrug it off, flew out of sight and the useful distraction was lost.

His mind swerved unavoidably back to yesterday and the relentless back and forth began again.

She stared up at him, again, pale-faced and wide-eyed, clear as the fists he clenched in front of him, closer than his own skin.

It had to be her. He knew it was her and she’d known him. But what if it wasn’t? What if she had merely been one of the many other rescuees over the years? His reaction would have seemed so weird and inappropriate. There might be a complaint.

But what if it was her? That was worse? It was definitely worse. He felt sick as he realised he’d grabbed her by the shoulders in much that same way as that monster in the square had when… when…

Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe he hadn’t recovered as well as he thought. He was just seeing her in the faces of random people. That had happened before, when he first got back he passed her on the street several times a day, she was serving behind every counter, brought the mail to their door…

Could it have been though?

It was. He knew it was as sure as he could be sure of anything. He’d seen her so many times, particularly recently when he’d been sick.

Before the sickness, he’d contained it all fairly well during waking hours. There were certain odd triggers he struggled to counter. The slightly blood-like scent of rusted iron for example, thankfully not a common building material these days, but when they encountered it at close range… for a few moments he’d be back there crouching behind the rubble, the fence pole in his hand resting slightly on the side of his face as he watched her defy the soldiers.

But the nights… So many nights he’d shouted again and again for her to run but the sound wouldn’t come out… or if it did, it was rasping and painful and too slow. Too slow. She had waited too long. He strained and struggled against the unrelenting arms holding him back as the thug with the combat knife barked an instruction, then turned and gave chase.

She hadn’t got far enough away, he’d known that truth for ten years.

He’d failed.

Then there’d been pain and darkness.

He’d regained consciousness in the tiny cell and the pain and darkness had only intensified… he squeezed his fists and eyes closed and sang the names of his brothers to himself under his breath. He didn’t need to go there.

That Place didn’t hold him anymore.

SHE did, though.

She was watching every time he failed to save another person. All the times he wasn’t quick enough or strong enough, he had apologised to the ghost of her over and over and over.

If she was alive…

If she WAS alive… it changed everything.

He had to know for sure.

He turned his back to the sun and gazed up at the fading morning star for a long moment. Then tapped his comm and whispered quietly “EOS? Can you do me a favour?”

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It had been a quiet couple of days.

Alan and Kayo had completed one rescue in orbit and the rest of them had sat in the lounge assisting on comms. Scott had been a little quieter than usual, deferring to John on a couple of points where usually Virgil might have expected him to be more decisive, but it WAS a space rescue and that wasn’t entirely unheard of. Scott had never been space’s biggest fan.

Other than that they’d all done their own thing, mostly within reasonably close proximity to their oldest brother because, at least for Virgil, it was difficult to actually let him out of his sight. So he’d played piano, painted on the mezzanine, baked a couple of apple pies. Normal things he’d normally be in the communal area to do and not suspicious at all.

Scott himself was sorting some TI paperwork and, at one point, handwriting the little cards they tried to send to young rescuees within two weeks of the event in which they were involved. Many were drafted by a special department at TI, the actual Tracy involved usually just adding a signature or, in Virgil’s case, a tiny doodle. But Scott did like to make them more personal when he had the time so the only unusual thing was that it wasn’t being done at 2am the night before their posting deadline.

When a quick count had revealed 11 cards rather than 10 stood up to dry, Virgil had wandered past and casually queried it - they didn’t usually include the adults after all. Scott silently handed him the extra card which appeared to be addressed to “Alex’s Awesome Right Shoe” at which point the younger brother concluded that whatever the story was behind that, it could wait for when Scott was ready to tell.

Along with all the rest. Hopefully.

He’d even gone to bed at a reasonable hour which was rather more odd. Virgil felt slightly uncomfortable asking EOS to confirm he was actually in bed… like she was some kind of high tech baby monitor… but her assurance meant he felt able to retire to his studio to work on a project too messy for the lounge.

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Shortly before midnight Virgil was clearing up in his studio when John popped up on the comm, looking serious but not in the usual way.

“Evening John, what’s up? Do we have a situation?”

His brother cleared his throat and appeared uncertain of what he was about to say.

“Virgil, Scott asked EOS to hack a couple of… databases.”

Virgil frowned and turned off the tap, spinning to face John’s hologram with paintbrushes still dripping, “What databases? Whose databases?”

John’s eye twitched. “The UK Home Office and the GDF War Archives.”

Virgil cursed as one of his more delicate brushes snapped in his fist.

“And… did she?”

“Of course she did, he’s the Commander. Honestly, Virgil, I’m beginning to think she listens to him more than to me. She’s certainly been chatting away on his direct line fairly frequently. Apparently he’s been answering some of her ‘modern historical and anthropological questions’” John’s use of air quotes somehow conveyed deep unease. “I have instructed her not to annoy him but he hasn’t complained. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’d gone soft on him since he was sick.”

“Well it’s better that they get along, I suppose. But John, what are they up to? Why?!”

“She said she was instructed not to reveal the details but has interpreted that instruction to mean she can tell me the basics without detail. She’s quite proud of how quickly she got through their firewalls.”

John paused.

“Virgil, maybe you should put those down?”

He looked down at the expensive brushes he’d been mangling and flung them into the sink.

“When was this?”

“Yesterday morning, apparently. Has he been working on Tracy Industries material ALL day today?”

“Yes. At least… I assumed so? I try not to get involved unless it’s R&D. All I did was check in and remind him to go to bed at a sensible time. From what I could tell then it was mostly spreadsheets on screen. Didn’t he have a budget thing to approve?”

“No. That was last week. I’ll see if I can find out what documents he was looking at but...” John coughed awkwardly at this point and Virgil looked at him quizzically until he continued “I haven’t currently got EOS’s help because she’s powered herself down for what she called “essential self care and maintenance” so with one thing and another it might take me a little while. Could you go and check on him?”

Virgil wiped his hands on his jeans and sprinted from the room.

He paused and listened at his brothers’ door. Gentle snoring floated through the wood and Virgil’s frown deepened. His brother didn’t tend to snore unless he was sick? He pushed open the door and found himself unsurprised to find the room empty, his brothers’ comms unit carefully located in the centre of the un-slept-in bed and a sound effects track playing on loop. He swiped it off in frustration and was lifting his arm to call John when his brother popped up in a state of extreme agitation: “Tracy Two has just taken off. Comms are inactive.”

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Chapter 8…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #Estera #Tw: ptsd #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #TB Estera

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