#but part of the fun is getting there myself
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since tumblr always has to suffer my personal vents and breakdowns and rants and annoyances you get the most wips and pics of unfinished stuff, im sure that makes up for it
the (unfinished) shiekah arm concepts that made me want to explode and i dont think im gonna work on again
#ganondoodles#art#zelda#ganondoodles rewrites totk#botw2#wip#calling it wip but i dont think i can go back to it#i tried to keep going on this for so long bc i have had the idea in mind for so long and it seemed fun#well ...... turns out that was a lie#thought to myself maybe i can do like one of those cool concept art things where they just go for interesting shapes first#and then refine it to actually work#but im not made for it#tbh im not sure what im made for#(i dont think posting wips im not posting elsewhere actually makes up for my annoying mental health spirals..)#i hope its not too small#was intending to go for version H but only got to do one variation#the outer casing can be customized with several designs#theres a guardian arm that extends and stretches to form the hookshot in the bulky part as well as the stored magic#there is always something on it to glow bc it also subtly shows how low your magic meter is#and if it runs out the blue parts turn orange like other shiekah tech in stand by mode#wanted to draw all that on here too#but .... ill need to start over when im doing better ....... WHEN im doing better and can draw again#speaking it into existence#(....man how all those “designs” look is so ... i feel even stupider for getting so extremely frustrated over it ...)
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SHA's Golden Future DTIYS [Art & Writing]
Close ups of Mikey
About 10 days ago I had the idea to host a DTIYS and even though I told myself it wouldn't happen anytime soon.. the idea struck and it wouldn't let me go. SO, here it is! One thing before everything else:
1st place: One handmade custom plushie made by me
More information about this DTIYS down below
I am aware that this is a rather challenging DTIYS but it was done so intentionally by me. (Trust me, I tortured myself too 🙃) HOWEVER. you are allowed to chose to draw only one segment of the whole piece and not every single one! You will however get more points for including all 3 parts of it. I will judge the pieces based on: • How many segments of the whole piece were drawn • Creativity (in what way was it changed from the original to emphasize your own style for example) • Colors (did you chose to use colors or is it black and white?) • Hands. I do accept written entries for this as well! I love reading and I don't want to exclude writers for this one should they decide they want to tackle this! You are allowed to use my art up top of the DTIYS to promote your writing!
If you want to participate be sure to @sha-biest and use the tag #GoldenFutureDTIYS Additionaly, let me know what YOU would like to get as a plushie! (don't worry, you don't have to stick to that decision should it change over the course of the DTIYS)
Deadline: 10th March 2025
More Info: • #GoldenFutureAU art tag • Written Story by Co-Creator @rosesofenvy (More about Mikey's mindscape and him unlocking his full mystic powers can be read in "Keep You Safe" especially within Chapter 4 and Chapter 8) • The Sun God's appearance here and here References:
Mikey's mindscape in Golden Future:
In the beginning he thought it was black water but it's actually black sand
He can dive into the sand and uncover "treasures" (parts of his mystic energy)
Diving down means no vision, sound or air gets through to him
He can uncover the mystic powers by pulling them up with his chains
Uncovering a "treasure" will turn that part of the desert golden
Disclaimer: • The plushie that can be won cannot be used to be reproduced and/or sold • The size of the plushie depends on the character chosen by the winner and by the package size I can send • I am by no means a professional plush maker so I do have the right to decline a character should I not be able to turn it into a plushie • Changes might need to be made to the chosen character for the plushie for more complicated details (I will provide sketches of possible versions) • Minors are permitted to participate, but only with the express permission of a guardian and limited correspondence if they win • You can chose to get a full illustration piece instead of a plushie should you win! (if you are too uncomfortable sharing your adress for example)
Plushie examples:
Questions can be send in via my ask box! I will try to compile them in here or give them a dtiyas specific tag! I'm curious what you guys come up with and most of all.. have fun! :D
PS: I will consider doing two first places (one for writing and one for art) depending on how many entries there are
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training partners (pt. 16)
summary: an article comes out about you and your relationship with hugh while he's away and you know just exactly who it was. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: reader's insecurities come back, brief mention of physical abuse (not with hugh!), mention of age gap, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.8k a/n: so... jack is back y'all and we've got a few more parts left of this story, so stay tuned! as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.
Hugh’s been gone for a couple of weeks now and you both manage to create a routine to speak with each other every day, depending on the time zone that he’s in. He continues to send you photos of where he’s been, wishing that you were with him, but despite the distance, it never does feel like he’s away. Hugh makes sure that you know that you’re his priority and you never have to second guess what he’s doing or where he’s at because he’s always communicating with you.
You’ll send him a text every morning you wake up, counting down the days until he gets home. You spend most of your time either editing, at a photoshoot, or working out with your personal trainer. It helps to keep yourself busy because the home you now share with Hugh is just too big for you alone. You miss his presence, miss his touch, falling asleep and waking up in his arms.
You miss him.
Today, though, you have nothing planned and you know Hugh has a day off from press so you decide to give him a call through FaceTime. He’s in Brazil, which just happens to be only two hours ahead. Dialing his number, you’re sitting out on the balcony, eating your dinner while watching the sun set. This still doesn’t feel real, like one day you’re going to wake up and realize it was all just a dream.
You hear his voice and then look down to see him through your phone, your entire face lighting up at the sight of him. You prop your phone against your water bottle and take another bite of pasta as you bring a leg up on the seat.
“Hey, baby,” he says with a smile. “Whatcha eating?”
“Made some pasta,” you answer, showing him your bowl. “Eating out on the balcony, watching the sunset. Wish you were here though.”
“I know,” Hugh sighs. “Wish I was there too. Just two more weeks, baby, then I’ll be home.”
You nod and then set your fork down, turning your entire attention on the man through your screen. “Just two more weeks,” you repeat. “How’s it going so far?”
“It’s been so much fun,” he answers. “Ryan likes to bring you up in every conversation we have almost daily,” Hugh chuckles. “Says you should be here with us, with me… and I agree with him.”
You laugh quietly and shake your head. “We both know that if you had it your way, I’d have gone with you.”
“Well…” Hugh smiles, leaning back against the bed that he’s lying on. “I did say you should come with me.”
“You know, usually the honeymoon phases out by now…” you tease. “I think you’re obsessed with me, Hugh Jackman.”
He laughs quietly, turning to lie on his side instead as he keeps the phone facing him. He is so enamored with you, that even through a simple FaceTime call, he can feel the amount of love he has for you. You’re so beautiful, the sunset casting a glow around you.
“Oh, I’m obsessed with you, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” you grin. “What is it about me, hm?”
“Everything,” he answers honestly. “I can’t just pick one thing, baby.”
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you wrap an arm around your leg and rest your chin on your knee. “Still the smooth talker, I see.”
Hugh rolls his eyes playfully. “I’m just tellin’ the truth.”
“I love you,” you blurt out instead.
His eyes light up – he’d never get tired of hearing you say those words. “I love you too, baby.”
“You know, the house feels so empty without you,” you admit. “I don’t know how you lived here all by yourself.”
“It was hard,” Hugh answers. “Kept myself busy most of the time, but you– you’ve made it a home. A place where I want to spend most of my days at, as long as you’re there.”
“When you say things like that, it makes me want to kiss you. So, what am I supposed to do if you aren’t here?” you smile.
“Use your imagination,” he teases.
“Ah, so I guess I’ll just have to entertain myself.”
Hugh’s gaze darkens as he shakes his head. “Don’t you dare tease me.”
“Or what? You’re not here,” you grin mischievously, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.
“Guess you’ll find out when I get home then, won’t you?”
“Fine,” you huff. “My fingers and toy aren’t the same anyway.”
“Y–You have a toy?”
You giggle. “Actually bought one a couple of days ago. Figured we could try it out together when you get back.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you grin excitedly.
Hugh groans. “Two more weeks… just two more weeks.”
You laugh to yourself and then tilt your head, eyes staring at the screen. You wish you could reach out to him, to feel his strong arms around you. “Got a full day of interviews tomorrow?”
Hugh nods. “Yeah, but you know I’ll make time to give you a call.”
“I know, Hugh,” you smile. “But it’s fine if you don’t, you know. I know you’re busy and–”
“You know I can’t go a day without talking to you, baby,” Hugh interrupts. “I’m never too busy for you.”
“I know, I just–” you sigh. “Just don’t want you to feel like you have to talk to me if you’re tired.”
“Never,” he answers. “Never too tired to talk to you. I’m already miserable without you here. If I don’t get to talk to you every day, I think I’d lose my mind.”
“Okay, Hugh,” you nod. “My perfect man.”
He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Hopefully only perfect for you.”
“Oh, I think you’re it,” you admit with a smile.
“Yeah?” he grins. “You mean that?”
“Oh yeah,” you nod. “So don’t go and break my heart, okay?”
“I don’t ever plan to, baby,” he answers. “Because I think you’re it for me too.”
“Yeah, I wish you were here,” you sigh. “This would be a perfect moment to kiss you.”
Hugh chuckles. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too. Just two more weeks,” you repeat. “Then you’re all mine.”
“Oh, I can’t wait. We’re not leaving the house for a week, at least,” he winks.
“What did you have in mind we do for an entire week?” you ask innocently.
“I think it’d be better to show you when I get back,” he grins.
“Well, I can’t wait,” you smile. “You should probably get some rest, Hugh. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
Hugh nods. “Yes, baby. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you too. Good night, Hugh.”
“Night, baby. Sweet dreams.”
“I’ll be dreaming of you,” you wink.
“Good because I’ll be dreaming of you too.”
—
A week later, you’re sitting on the bed re-reading the story about your relationship with Hugh in a well-known online published article. You can feel tears stinging your eyes, can feel your hands tremble as you read every single untrue word.
They call you a gold digger due to the age gap.
They say that you’re too ugly to be with someone like Hugh.
They say that Hugh’s only having fun with you.
That the relationship isn’t serious.
That you’re not enough.
That he’s going to realize that he deserves better than a nobody like you.
And the words stay with you because it all sounds so familiar. You’ve heard it before and there’s a dreadful feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realize who might be behind this article.
An article that’s now gaining more and more traction. You shouldn’t have googled Hugh’s name because all you can see in the search results are different variations of the same article. With your name plastered all over.
You’re only with him for his money.
The age gap is too ridiculous and Hugh’s just messing around after his divorce.
You’re not enough.
You’re not enough.
You’re not enough.
You finally toss your phone aside and curl into the sheets, eyes staring out the large window. You’ve never felt more alone than you did now. You can hear your phone ringing but you don’t bother trying to answer it; you just want to disappear and you certainly can’t call Hugh.
You can’t tell him; he’s already got other things to worry about.
Your tears trickle down your cheeks and stain your pillow as your breathing picks up. The article brings up a lot of feelings that you’ve tried so hard to work through because you know who’s behind it.
Jack.
It’s always going to be Jack. He just can’t leave you alone. Despite him being the one to end the relationship and the one who has verbally and physically abused you, he’s still acting like you’re the one who hurt him.
It just seems like he can’t let you go, like he still has to have some control over you.
Your phone goes off again and you turn around to grab it, seeing Hugh’s contact on your screen. You don’t answer, afraid that he’s going to tell that something’s wrong so instead, you send him a quick text to let him know that you’re busy editing and that you’d call him back once you’re finished.
It’s a lie and you hate lying to him, but you can’t tell him the truth. You can’t tell him that there’s rumors about you, about your relationship with him and how you want (and need) him so badly to be here.
He reads your message, but instead of sending a reply, he just calls you again. You don’t answer, letting it go straight to voicemail. He doesn’t leave a message, but you see that he’s begun typing – the three dots appearing on your text thread with him.
Four simple words. He texts four simple words that make your heart ache even more: You’re lying. Call me.
With a heavy sigh, you wipe your tears away and then begin to dial his number. It barely rings once before he answers the phone, his voice immediately coming on the other end of the speaker.
“You saw it,” he says.
“Yeah.” You don’t need him to clarify what he’s referring to because you know exactly what he’s talking about.
“I know you’re not okay, so don’t tell me that you are.”
“Well, what else am I supposed to say, Hugh?”
“The truth,” he answers.
“What good will that do? You’re not here.”
You hear him sigh. His voice sounds tired. “Baby, please. Just–”
“It was Jack,” you interrupt.
“What?”
“The article. It was Jack. It’s gotta be.” Your voice trembles. “I’ll be fine and–”
“I’m coming home,” Hugh says.
“You have one more week left of press.”
“I don’t care. You matter more. I’m coming home,” he repeats.
“Hugh–”
“No,” he interrupts. “Don’t defend him again. You shouldn’t even be defending him.”
“I’m not.”
“Then tell me what’s on your mind!” He raises his voice and your eyes fall shut, gripping the phone close to your ear. You know that he’s frustrated at being so far from you, for allowing you to deal with this all by yourself. He should be there with you. He needs to be there with you. “I’m sorry, baby. I just– Fuck, I feel helpless here.”
“Well, I’m feeling helpless too,” you admit. “That article… Those rumors, maybe some of them are true. Maybe you do deserve better than me.”
“Stop.” Hugh sighs. “You know that’s not true.”
“You’re you and I’m just… I’m just me.”
You can hear ruffling on the other end of the phone and when he goes to speak again, his voice sounds more distant, like he’s not holding the phone directly to his ear anymore. “I’m coming home. I already told Ryan and Shawn.”
“Hugh,” you sigh. “Baby, please.”
“No,” he says. “Don’t you think that article hurts me too?”
“B– Because of your reputation? Because of what it says about you?”
“No,” he sighs. “Because of what it says about you. It’s not fucking true. None of it is, and it hurts me because I know that it’s hurting you. So, yes, I’m coming home so that I can be there with you.”
You don’t answer because you finally feel yourself begin to break down. You put the phone on speaker and set it aside, burying your face into your hands as you let out an inaudible sob.
“Baby?”
“Don’t come home,” you finally answer. “Let me– Let me handle this on my own. Let me work through this on my own. Please, Hugh.”
“Baby,” Hugh sighs. “I can’t–”
“Hugh, I need to do this for myself. Please, can you do that for me?”
“I don’t want to,” he answers.
“I know, but you need to.”
“I can hear you crying, baby.”
“It just hurts. All of it, but I can do this,” you sniffle. You want so badly to just feel his arms around you.
Hugh sighs in defeat. “I love you,” he whispers quietly. “So much, okay?”
“I know,” you answer with a slightly trembling voice. “I know you do.”
“I won’t come home today, but I will be home by the end of the week. Can we come to that compromise?”
“Yeah,” you answer. “I think that’s okay.”
“You know you’re the best person I’ve ever met, right?” Hugh asks. “You’re kind, thoughtful, considerate… so passionate and I love everything about you. Flaws and all.”
“Even when I get into my own head and–”
“Yes,” he interrupts. “And I wish that you can see what I see in you, what everyone sees in you.”
You shut your eyes and imagine him there with you, arms wrapped around your frame, lips near your ear as he whispers. You lie on your side and wrap the sheets further around your frame as you keep the phone on speaker.
“I’m sorry I’m broken…”
“Baby,” he sighs. “You’re not broken, and you shouldn’t be apologizing. Someone who you trusted, who you loved, hurt you over and over again. He manipulated you, took advantage of you and–” he has to stop himself from talking because he can feel himself getting angrier and angrier. “Jack never deserved your love. He never deserved you.”
“Hugh…” you whisper. “I love you.” His words awakens something inside of you, something that you never thought existed. You thought you had done a lot of reflection on your relationship with Jack, but you never looked at it from your perspective in this way. You always wondered what you could have done differently, what you could have changed about yourself that it wasn’t until you met Hugh that you realized the issue was never you.
It was Jack.
And it will always be Jack.
“I’ll be home soon, okay?” Hugh sighs. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Hugh,” you sigh. “More than you ever know.”
“I’m one lucky man, I’ll tell you.” He replies.
You bite your lower lip and take your phone off speaker to bring it close to your ear instead. “I’ll call you later?” You ask.
“Yeah, baby. I’ll be here.”
“Got another full day of press?”
He sighs. “I have time for you. Always will.”
“You sure?”
“Positive, baby.”
—
For the rest of the day, you steer clear from your phone and laptop. The only time you’d reach for it is to respond to a text from Hugh or from your trainer. You distract yourself by watching movies, but even in the living room, you’re missing Hugh’s presence.
The movies only do so much for so long when your mind begins to drift to Jack. For the longest time, you’ve tried so hard to ignore it, to just move on without ever reflecting on just how toxic that relationship was for you. It was easier to just forget, but when he decided to force himself back into your life, you realized just how many unresolved emotions lay dormant.
You can still vividly feel his fist connecting with your cheek, can feel his entire body weight behind the punch. You should have left him then, shouldn’t have even let it go that far, and you wished you had a good enough reason why you didn’t leave.
Part of it was because Jack had made you believe that no one would ever want you if you did decide to leave on your own… and he would tell you how worthless you were over and over and over again to a point that you started to believe it.
But him ending the relationship had been the one of the best things to ever happen to you. You know that you still have so much to work through, but you’re no longer the same woman you were when you were still with Jack.
You try to remind yourself of that. Jack doesn’t have authority over you anymore (and he never should have). He never should have laid his hands on you. Never should have repeatedly put you down with his words.
And you’re tired of letting him get away with it. You’re tired of letting him win.
---
taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1
@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf
@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom
@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss
@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee
@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna
@jules-and-gemss @keerygal
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman angst#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x fem!reader#hugh jackman x female reader#hugh jackman x f!reader#rpf#real person fiction#story: training partners
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it's all fun and games until I start hating you and I hit you with a large ass essay that expresses my frustration and exhaustion with your neglect and the hurt you've caused me.
Exemple:
To my dearest boy who broke my heart and left it to pieces with one missing shard in hand that keeps it from healing:
Love. A vile and twisted thing you remain in my eyes. For I have never loved someone and got to keep them in my heart for all eternity. It seems like the universe, God, have odd ways of pulling their strings when it comes to love, slow, torturous and often unexpected goodbyes grace us at the end.
It's been six months since you left me. Six long and excruciating months, and I can not put into words the disdain I feel towards you. Yet, I find myself staring longingly at you, find my heart racing at your mere sighting. You've become a dependency of mine, destructive yet fulfilling like the crimson drink I drown myself in. Like the pills I abused my body, my organs and my mind with. You'd bring me a sense of Euphoria, but what did it leave me with once your presence was gone? Pain. So much pain I can not even manage to put it into words. You were my oxygen. My will. My life. My sin and my soul. You were all that I needed. You were all that I wanted and still want even more. What should I call it? Soulmates who were never meant to be? Right person wrong time? Strangers to friends, friends into lovers and what now, strangers again? How low do I have to stoop down in order to make you want me again? I know you still want me, I can see it in your lingering eyes, yet you offer me silence and silence all over again. What did you do to me? What more could you possibly want from me? How much do you want to see me beg and try to make it up to you for all the hurtful words you've heard from my friends? How many "I'm sorry" do you want to hear fall from my lips and seem to always land onto deaf ears? What more do you want from me? Why do you ignore me again when you promised to be my friend? Was I not enough for you? Is it that hard to forget the girl you wanted beforehand? I know I am delusional to hold onto a love that clearly has perished long ago, but please for the love of God, let me cry into your arms for the first and last time so I can truly let you go. Let me sob my heart and guts out to you just for a few moments at least, I do not ask for more. Let me confess my desires , my dreams, my secrets and my pain to you. Even if they shall fall onto those ears of yours that you turn deaf on me every single time I try to get your attention. Let me. Please, allow me this. Let me find solace in your embrace even if it's cold and unwanted. I'd get down on my knees for you and let you kill me with your coldness. Let you freeze my heart and devour it whole if only a piece of me gets to be held by you, my darling boy. You have reduced me to a ghost of the strong woman I once were. And I am ashamed of myself for it, yet I can not even blame you for my downfall, because despite it all, I was an accomplice as well. Destroy me for all you want , I'll always come crawling back to you, with all my broken parts and my gaping wounds, bleeding into your own hands.
Just one last embrace is all I ask of you. I know you'd refuse me more. You cruel bastard. You heartless devil.
Go on and destroy me and watch me build back my pieces only to destroy me again. Go on and ruin me. Go on and put unnecessary distance between the both of us, because you are far too much of a coward to face the truth.
The truth is that you want me but are far too afraid of commitment, of new beginnings that you'd rather stick to the past and hope for the best. Hurt me. Hurt me all you want, but you'd never rebuke me from my church. From my sanctum, from your arms, from your hold. Rebuke me for my sins of loving you but know that I still hold you in high regards, that I still pray for your well-being, for your success, and your future. Know that against all odds..
I still love you.
—C.A
oh to be loved by a poet … 🎀
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Oh, I'm sorry, but my ideas for Leclerc's stepsister are in my head and there are so many of them, I don't have the nerve to send them all, but... I just want her to be very different from baby Sainz, she was very independent, hardly accepted help, was a little (and sometimes a lot) shy, defiant, but at the same time for the Leclair brothers she was a princess, and their parents wanted to enjoy the fact that everything was fine
With love from CH 💜
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
- xoxo babygirl ♥️
No Part 2!
Independent, but Loved
It was a typical sunny afternoon in Monaco, and the house was alive with the sound of chatter and laughter. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the couch, her manicured nails clicking against her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media feed. The comments on her latest post were already piling up.
@queenYnislife: “She fixed her car and still looks better than me. HOW??”
@monaco_royalty: “Yn, the real princess of Monaco. Bow down, everyone.”
She smirked at the comments and tapped her nails thoughtfully against her chin. "You know," she said, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "I should start a DIY YouTube channel. 'Fixing Cars with Yn.' I'd show everyone how to slay while being a mechanic."
From across the living room, Arthur groaned. "Yn, you didn't fix the car."
She raised an eyebrow at her 19-year-old stepbrother, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Excuse me, mechanic Arthur. I literally fixed it myself. My nails were covered in grease for days!"
Lorenzo, the oldest at 25, laughed as he walked into the room, carrying a tray of drinks. "Oh, princesa, you really think that car is still the same one?"
Yn frowned. "What do you mean?"
Arthur leaned forward, unable to suppress his grin. "We got you a new car."
Her jaw dropped. "No, you didn't!"
"Yes, we did," Lorenzo confirmed with a shrug, his grin widening. "Do you honestly think you ‘fixed’ a blown engine with a wrench and some nail polish remover?"
Charles, who had just walked in after a training session, leaned against the doorway with an amused look. "To be fair, you were very convincing with your grease-smudged selfies."
Yn stared at her brothers, utterly scandalized. "Wait a second. You mean all my TikToks about ‘fixing’ the car were based on a lie?"
Arthur snorted. "Pretty much, yeah."
"You guys distracted me?" Yn accused, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Charles.
Charles threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Guilty. But it was Lorenzo's idea!"
Lorenzo chuckled, clearly unbothered. "You deserved a better car, princesa. That old one wasn’t safe anymore."
Yn crossed her arms and pouted, her glossy lips forming a perfect little scowl. "You could have told me instead of treating me like a clueless baby."
"You're not clueless," Arthur said quickly, his tone softening. "We just wanted to make sure you were safe. You know we only do these things because we care about you, right?"
Her pout melted into a small smile. "Fine. But I'm still mad that you lied to me."
"We'll make it up to you," Charles promised. "How about dinner on me tonight? Wherever you want."
"Anywhere?"
"Anywhere."
Yn grinned, her previous annoyance already forgotten. "Okay, but you’re paying for dessert too."
"Deal," Charles said, ruffling her hair.
---
That evening, as they all sat around a table at Yn’s favorite restaurant, their parents, Pascal and João, joined in on the fun. Pascal raised his glass, a proud smile on his face. "To my incredible children. I love seeing how well you all take care of each other."
"Even if it means pulling off elaborate car heists," Yn teased, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table.
João, always the peacemaker, smiled warmly at her. "They just want to make sure you're happy and safe, filha."
"I know," Yn said, her voice softening. "And I love you guys for it. But don’t think this gets you off the hook for messing with me."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great, here we go."
Yn smirked, leaning back in her chair like the queen she was. "Just wait until I prank you back. The internet will love it."
Lorenzo groaned. "Please, no more viral chaos."
"You should know by now," Yn said with a wink, "I am chaos."
Charles sighed dramatically. "And we wouldn’t have it any other way."
As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter continued. Yn, their sarcastic and fiercely independent little sister, was their princess. And while she might never let them forget their sneaky car replacement, the love and bond between them was unshakeable.
They were, after all, family.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#charles leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc x leclerc!reader#arthur leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x leclerc!reader#leclerc!reader#charles leclerc x sister!reader
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Winter Warmers day 23: small cock. Maxiel. About 730 words.
Max is great at sucking dick.
He knows, both because multiple people have told him, and because he practiced until he was good at it. He hadn't always been good at it, obviously, his gag reflex was pretty shit actually and his technique was passable at best, but he had worked on it, and now he was great.
He had worked on his gag reflex until he could let guys fuck his throat without chocking. He had taken notes on what made them moan, what made their hand in his hair tighten, and what made their thighs shake. He had learned the best ways to make them come quick, and then ones to make them last.
There had been several reasons behind his dedication. First of all, he hated being bad at something. Not that he had been bad at first, or at least he didn't think he was, but he didn't want to be just decent, not when it was a skill he could improve.
Second of all, he did love sucking dick. He liked the weight of it in his mouth, the feeling of being full, of having to regulate his breathing to not get dizzy, the salty and sour taste of precum on his tongue. And he liked that even if he was the one on his knees, he still was the one in control. He liked the power that came with giving up power, the feeling of letting a guy fuck his mouth, of allowing them to use him. And he liked getting a little mean with it sometimes, edging them over and over, pulling back just when he knew they were so close, using just the barest hint of teeth.
It was fun, and it was good, and it made him feel great.
But lastly, he had decided that blowjobs would be his best skill in sex because he knew he was...below average in other areas. Namely, in the dick area. Not only below average, but small. Tiny even.
He wasn't ashamed of it, it was just another part of his body he couldn't change, like the color of his eyes or the shape of his nose, but he was aware he couldn't fuck anyone with it.
So, blowjobs.
He had reasoned that if he could blow guys away with his blowing (ah!) skills, then they wouldn't be too disappointed with the little he was packing. And mostly it had worked. He had to throw out a couple guys, had to walk out on a few others, but the overall balance of his sex experiences was definitely skewed towards good.
He didn't really mind if his partners ignored his dick during sex. He liked being fucked, he liked being kissed, his nipples were sensitive, and if needed he could use his own hand to make himself come. It was not a big deal.
Until Daniel.
Max had employed his usual strategy with Daniel. Kiss them silly, then get on his knees and make them come, so that their brain is soup when they finally see his disappointing dick.
Except. Except that Daniel had come, and then had asked to make Max come, and when Max had shrugged and stepped out of his pants, his usual apology and "it's okay, I can make myself come" already on his tongue, Daniel had also dropped to his knees.
He had dropped to his knees and exhaled, something impossible like awe on his face. And then he had made Max come so hard his knees had buckled and he had almost killed them both.
Because, for some unknown reason, Daniel seems to love Max's dick. He tells Max all the time, tries to touch it and get his mouth on it whenever he can. He calls it pretty, and perfect, and makes Max blush all the way down to his chest, squirming on the bed because of it. Sometimes they're sitting on the couch, watching a movie, and Daniel will just stick his hand down Max's pants, gathering his dick and balls in his palm, holding it just to hold it until inevitably Max gets hard and Daniel gets to make him come.
So now Max still sucks Daniel's dick , but it no longer feels like compensation, it's just a skill that both him and Daniel enjoy.
And he's great at it.
#maxiel#my writing#winter warmers 2024#i have a second fill for this same prompt in the works lets see if i can get it done before i have to the train station#and YES i know im a day late shut up yesterday i was busy (napping)#typos arent real and all that
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manipulative!boss!sunday x timid!secretary!reader (& aventurine!)
summary: You get drinks with Aventurine, only to be interrupted by a rather cross Sunday. wc: 1.7k - cw for drinking, stalking... and heavy worldbuilding. oops! a/n: The guillemets «» are used to indicate Sunday's telepathy!
part 4 / part 5 / part 6 (nsfw) ---
Most bars and hostelries in Golden Hour had been established long after the rebellions has ended and the prohibition on alcohol was lifted. The Pendulum Speakeasy, however, was an exception. You had no reservations in believing that Aventurine had every inch of Golden Hour memorized—gambled at every table, met every bartender, sweet-talked every showgirl—so when he leads you to The Pendulum without even stopping to check for directions, it only feels fitting. "You go out drinking often, doll?" You shake your head bashfully, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "No, that's never appealed to me. Sunday took me to dinner earlier this week, but other than that... I just sort of like to keep to myself in my free time." You look down, knowing full well your outfit corroborates this—Other than the dress Sunday had delivered to you, the only things you can wear out are your work clothes. Fitted white pants, structured blazers, things of that sort. Aventurine's interest piques. "Oh, he took you to dinner?"
"Well—Yes," you concede. "-No? ...Yes. It was a work meeting." "Yes, but still. Never took him as the type." Aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, headlines flashing in his head: 'Stoneheart Missing After Scandal In Penacony', 'Rendezvous With The Family Gone Wrong'. He'd previously assumed that his plans would involve catching Sunday's ire somehow, but not yet considered to this degree.
Still, he surmises, he has faith in his odds. "Ah, but don't you worry your pretty little head about work tonight," he adds. "What I care about is you having fun." Finally winding the final turn into The Pendulum's alleyway, Aventurine thrusts his other hand into his pocket to pull out a small poker chip. You assume by the logo in the center and the golden sheen on its edges that Aventurine had stolen it—Maybe he'd slipped it into his sleeve after a game to take as a trophy. You'd heard of his exploits from time to time, and you can only assume the usual prizes of victory has lost their luster in his eyes. Perhaps he wishes to gamble for more unconventional things: Favors, promises, human lives. Aventurine knocks on the door, and a small set of twinkling Pepeshi eyes peers back at him from an open slat. You're sure the Pepeshi must be standing on a stool of some sort for them to be at Aventurine's eye level. "Are you welcome?" a squeaky voice asks. Aventurine smiles, flipping the poker chip in his hand up into the air one more time before catching it in his palm. "Very. 'Lady Arctus has saved me a table'." There was no need for any speakeasy in Penacony to still work on the password system—especially for one as well known as Pendulum's—but you assume that requiring it lent itself to some atmosphere. The atmosphere of a place like The Pendulum was its primary selling point, after all. When all of the drinks came from the same suppliers and every band played in whatever bar had an open stage, there was nothing else they could use to distinguish themselves but looks. Aventurine led you through The Pendulum by the hand, the two of you passing under a large chandelier decorated with fifty or some Halovian statuettes, each static crystal figurine draped in flowing cloth and ebulliently presenting sparkling glass bulbs of lights to the crowd of guests below them. The chandelier shook and twisted from the rumble of a car passing over the Speakeasy, sending an explosion of reflected rainbows around the room like a burst of confetti. As the two of you reached the bar, Aventurine lets you take your seat first, the barstool squeaking against the wooden floorboards. Once he takes his own seat, Aventurine raises his hand to call the bartender over. “An Interplanetary, if you may,” he asks. “And for my guest here—“ Aventurine looks back to you, his tongue tucked into his cheek as he stalls for your answer. “Pika White with an olive.” “Pika White with an olive,” he emphatically repeats to the bartender. Once the two of you are alone, he turns to add “My, how distinguished of you.”
You flush, eyes down looking at the velvet carpets over the floor. “Oh, no, that’s just what I got used to ordering for lunch meetings. Back when I started out at The Family, the easiest way to get people to like you was to drink with them.” You laugh under your breath, commenting to yourself “You know what they say, ‘Penacony is just one big party’.” “Indeed I do.” Aventurine’s own gaze is caught by the gleam of the poker table in the center of The Pendulum, itself swarmed with a small crowd of betters. He leans in to you, pointing towards the table. “—How’s about I show those guys what a real game of poker looks like?” Aventurine gets up before you can even truly answer, but you follow anyways, adding “I don’t think anyone here hasn’t seen one of your games.” He shoots back a smile. “They could do with a reminder.” … … … … Aventurine wins nearly 40,000 credits before finally backing out, and you can’t stop yourself from hanging your head low in embarrassment on his behalf as he howls with laughter at his own victory. While the group of incensed Pepeshi that lost to Aventurine mostly sent him his winnings digitally, Aventurine finds a way to slip an extra 100-credit bill or two into your back pocket amidst the chaos anyways. “What a scene,” he remarks to himself, taking a sip of his Interplanetary. “Wouldn’t be a night out without a good game, would it? You saw that one guys’ face when he saw I still had a straight flush.” You cradle your glass of Pika gingerly in your hand, smiling into it. Between it and the sweet sound of the trumpet from The Pendulum’s stage, your mind is drawn between too many things to respond with more than a good-natured sigh. That is, until a noise cuts through over the sound of the big band and the chatter lingering around the bar. « ♪♫♪♫♫♪ » "Did you hear that...?" you ask, almost speaking it under your breath. "Hear what?" The whistling was probably in your head. It was the same melody you'd heard the other night while at dinner with Sunday, after all. « [Y/N]? Is that you? » You whip your head around to find the source of the voice, only to realize you can't tell which direction it came from. Unfortunately, its owner makes himself known quickly enough. "Aventurine of the Interastral Peace Corporation," your boss says. "I'm not shocked at all to see you here." Aventurine leans over in his seat, putting himself between you and Sunday. Maybe even... shielding you? Still, there was nothing in his voice that makes it seem like he finds Sunday a threat. "Been a while, Feathers," Aventurine grins. "Had to make sure you're not working your staff to the bone." Sunday smiles in a way that almost looks forced. "Never," he replies. "Though, I should warn you. It's against policy for Oak Family employees of a certain rank to consume alcohol of any kind. As the law that upholds Penacony, we must never let ourselves be of ill-affected mind." "That's never been enforced, sir." You feel a sense of shame splash over you the moment you finish your sentence, clasping your hand over your mouth as if you'd just cursed Sunday in front of his mother, or even broken a child's toy. You look back up to him to see if he would take the correction in stride. "Perhaps because until now, it has not been necessary to enforce it." Sunday inhales, his smile squinting his golden eyes as he looks back down at you in what you could only fear was contempt. "I don't want to have to report one of the hardest working people in Penacony for such negligence in following the rules."
"Sunday." Aventurine has fully moved in to separate Sunday from you. "I'm the one who invited [Y/N] out for drinks. They're not the one you should be having problems with here," the gambler sneers. "And what does it matter to you if your beloved secretary spends an hour or two in other company? Scared they'll share a bit too much?" Sunday's smile drops completely. It almost feels crazy to say, but you start to wish he was back to that unprofessionally-touchy, overly-sweet self you were used to seeing. You were able to ignore it because you were used it to it: You're not used to this. "If you think you will achieve any of your ends through [Y/N], Aventurine, you are sorely mistaken," Sunday scowls. "My employees are not playing chips for you to leverage at your behest, especially not my secretary." His golden eyes seem to pierce right through Aventurine's own as he asks "Have I made myself abundantly clear?" "That you have," the gambler replies through grit teeth. "Just let me finish my drink in peace, Feathers." Sunday finally shoots a glance to you before exiting the bar. You push your drink away, having lost all desire to finish it. "Sorry, Venny. I didn't even consider..." "Aw, doll, don't sweat it. Just not your lucky day," he shrugs. "But I'd be a chump to let him walk all over you." His voice lowers to a mutter as he adds "—Fuck, where's Gallagher when you need him? That boss of yours needs a good kick in the pants. Maybe his pretty face, too, if the first doesn't hit him right." "Aventurine, don't." Aventurine sighs, his grip on his glass tightening. "...Sorry, doll, what am I thinking? Not awfully nice of me to being speaking ill of the handsomest, most powerful man in Penacony." He downs the rest of his drink in one fell swoop. "If he's still hearing me, I'll get the sweep from him for sure. Then I'll really need a drink."
--- a/n: Arctus is the 12th of the The Hours in Greek Mythology, so I thought a reference to her would fit well in a Moment that's apparently one before midnight. tag list: @j1yu425 @crepezinhos @i-am-tiredd @8x9d @ruruize @herrscherofprocrastination @khxii-i @moonsaver
#shocker: sunday rules that queening out with aventurine is FORBIDDEN!!!!!#sunday's secretary#hsr sunday#sunday x you#sunday x reader#sunday x y/n#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#hsr x you#manipulative yandere#sunday hsr#hsr aventurine#aventurine hsr
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was listening to the final silt verses q&a part one and there was a question by one James Loveless, was that you? if so that was delightful, getting to hear everyone's headcannons was so much fun, hearing Lucille talk about paige & haywards semi-canon weird non romantic freak sex was amazing as a aromantic allosexual person
that was me. my pathological need to be openly passionate about my interests has led me to publicly humiliate myself on the internet once more. i'm glad it was enjoyable though :)
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last night, i just had a terrible nightmare where someone sent in a really long ask that was straight up hating and criticizing every part of my writing. calling out the insecurities/faults, plot inconsistencies, and insulting my writing style—
which i admit: yeah, it's wordy and really long, sometimes i focus too much on one scene or on the emotions solely, and i focus on every single detail; i'm a very emotional and hypersensitive person who likes to overanalyze on the scenes and characters. i acknowledge that it's unconventional and unprofessional at times; but it's what makes me happy and it's up to readers to continue reading or not despite the length. it's my own writing, i write content for free and everything i post are indulgent on my part, hence why i explicitly state i don't really wish for constructive criticism since again, it's all for free and it's all done for fun.
though, in that dream, it came to the point where the ask straight up told me i should just quit writing, that whatever i'm writing for is utter trash (overrated, it says. there are better writers out there and, yeah, i agree. i've the passion and drive but not so much for talent) and not worth the effort to read. so i did what was told and deactivated my account and went on to never write anymore fanfics after just how shaken up i was, then i woke up HAHAHAH.
and it genuinely felt so real, ngl. i couldn't get it off of my mind even until now, so here i am rambling about it. sorry if anyone expected me to post a drabble, or a fanfic; but right now i need more time to ponder upon whether or not i should change my writing style 'cause chapter five pt 2 will be posted soon but it's longer and who knows? maybe my worst nightmare may come true if i post it and it's subpar, not up to expectation.
and if people don't really wish for something long that borders on boring or filler scenes, then maybe, maybe not i will change how i write (but i probably won't lmao). either way, i have to remind myself that i am writing for myself, and posting it to simply archive in this account. i just hope people won't be as cruel as that mystery person in my dreams if i ever do
it's genuinely the audience's choice to read my works or not if the length or style bothers them. and as entitled as i may sound, i wish to remind some that writing a chapter with more than 10k words is my choice, and it's an arduous process too that takes hours of my time. writing fanfics is for me is purely indulgent and are reflections of my real life experiences, if it's lengthy, then yes i chose it to be, but it's not like i'm writing a thesis or an essay, i'm writing a goddamn fanfic with stereotypical tropes (most especially yandere) because it what makes me enjoy my passion as an author.
i apologize again for the long ramble, i really just need this out of my thoughts. this is my own blog too so yeah 😭. if you guys follow me solely for my fanfics, then filter out the "🍨... yael's talking" tag if you wish to avoid these types of talks.
#🍨... yael's talking#my nightmares always have to target my deepest insecurities huh 😭#it's funny tho like#i'm just a guy who uses this blog. can my mind just leave me to rest 😭#apologies for all the pending asks too#im avoiding my inbox cause im chickening out
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“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out. Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”
Ooooh, snappy 😆 I've been diving into the books a bit and I do think they still have some tough things to talk out. The show's making it look way too easy lol
But I loved all the kindergarten teasing and bantering between them. Such a fun moment! 🤍
“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”
Read this fully in Bobby's voice. You totally nailed his cadence too! You're killing it here, Alex!! 👏👏
Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.
Ahaha knew it! Right on time too 😂
He really cares for her a lot after such a short amount of time already 🥹❤️
Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.
You're a hopeless romantic. You wouldn't do this to me, right? Right, Alex???? 😭
“Fuck off, Timberlake.”
They do share similarities 🤣🤣
A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.
I do love how resourceful he always is 🤓👏
You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.
Like the reader, I'm not surprised but was hoping it wouldn't be this bad. Geez, Charlie, you call this getting your shit together? 🙄
“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.”
Why? No, not the woods!! 😂 (Being lost in a forest is one of my worst nightmares lol)
He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt. “How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted.
Russell's dark side is doing things to me... 🫠🫠
“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.”
Figured something like this happened. I do feel for him, though. It's called addiction for a reason ❤️🩹
His argument for stealing was hilarious, however. Like, boo, really? Don't pretend you care about the Native Americans now. I think he knows his sister too well and figured this might work 😂
“I love you, you know that?” he whispered. Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye.
You did it, too!!!! The "I love you" goodbye!! 🤣
Oh, I can't fucking wait to read the next part!!! 😁👏
Every Second Counts - Part 3
Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader
Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him.
AN: *Deep breaths* Are you ready? 😉
Word Count: 4.4K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Russell, perilous situations, violence, character death, and another (literal) cliffhanger…
💜 Series Masterlist
Part 3: "Timer Starts Now"
As he drove away from the museum, Colter could see it even more clearly.
“You like her,” he said, giving his older brother a smile.
Russell glanced at him, then rolled his eyes.
“Focus on the road,” he said.
“Just admit it. You like her,” Colter smirked. “And the fact that she called you for help isn’t a coincidence.”
Russell made a sound of annoyance and shook his head. At this point, he knew Colter wasn’t going to drop the subject.
“All right, we went out on one date,” Russell held up a finger. “It was fun, but we agreed that I’m just not relationship material.”
Colter sobered at that, at the wry tone of his voice. It sounded like Russell liked you even more than he was willing to admit.
“Do you have a timeline on that brewery?” Colter asked.
Russell chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m just a few dollars short on that one.”
He stared out the window for a while, but he eventually turned back to his brother.
“She called me because her brother’s a vet. Because I know what it’s like to deal with the assimilation process, coming back to civilian life. Trying to figure out where you belong, you know?” he said.
“You think you’ve assimilated?” Colter asked.
Russell shrugged. “Best I know how, anyway.”
“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out.
Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”
That created a kind of tension in the car. A call from Bobby, Colter’s analyst, mercifully broke the silence. He’d gotten some useful information on Eddie Mendez, the man Charlie was supposedly working with, or for.
“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”
“All right, thanks, Bobby,” Colter said.
Great, Russell shook his head. Just what had your brother gotten himself into?
They were getting closer to the bar, and it mentally brought him back to his date with you.
Okay, maybe he did like you. But he also respected and understood your reasons for cutting things short that night. Usually, he was okay with being in a new town every other week, the occasional one-night stands, the skeevy motel rooms and the fast food. It was all with a goal in mind, and that made the hustle easier.
He’d started to wonder though, what it would be like to set down roots somewhere. Doug made it work with his wife and still did his contract work, even if there were some major pros and cons to that too…
Russell was only broken out of his thoughts when he got a call himself, from Dory. He answered it and held the phone to his ear.
“Hey, D. What’s up?” he asked.
“Russell, something’s wrong,” she said. Her voice was panicked.
He frowned, his brows furrowing. “What? What happened?”
The more he listened, the more his eyes widened in shock. He looked to his brother.
“Colter, turn around. Now.”
Russell and Colter arrived back at your house, where Dory was parked out front. She came out of the safety of her car when she saw them. Russell got to her first. He laid a hand on her shoulder in the driveway.
“What happened?” he asked.
She tearfully explained that she found your purse in the bushes, but your phone was missing. She had just picked up your call when it suddenly cut off.
“But I heard her scream,” Dory said, with a stifled breath.
Russell’s mood darkened in response, and the longer he took in the scene. He looked over at Colter, who also wore a frown.
The tracker examined your car and driveway first. Already he found signs of struggle. He noticed a couple pieces of dark glass on the pavement, and when he scrutinized his surroundings further, he picked your broken phone out of the grass. The screen was cracked beyond repair.
Next, he climbed the three short steps of the porch, up to the front door of the house. There were marks on the doorknob, likely scratched by a key. He spotted the Ring Camera next.
Good. He took it right off the wall.
“Do you have her keys there?” he asked his sister. Dory handed them to him and he let himself in. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
The three of them entered your house and found it dark and empty. Colter switched the lights on and got to work, after going back to grab his laptop from the car.
Russell stayed with his sister on the couch, a supportive hand on her back. He tried to shove his anger and upset deeper below the surface.
Meanwhile, Colter had Bobby retrieve the data from the camera. Within a few minutes, he sent Colter a video file, which Colter then played on his laptop. The three of them watched you approach the door.
Someone with a man’s build grabbed you from behind, wearing dark clothes and a mask that obscured his face. You screamed and tried to fight, but the man dragged you away as you struggled.
Russell’s frown deepened as his body tensed with anger again, his jaw ticking as it clenched. And then came the self-loathing.
Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.
Dory covered her trembling mouth and dissolved into tears. Russell tucked her against his side, rubbing her arm. Colter laid a hand on her shoulder as well, but he continued to analyze the footage. He couldn’t make out the attacker’s face with the mask he was wearing, but Colter saw a blue sedan in the background. It peeled off after you were hauled off-screen.
“Why would they take her? What the hell is Charlie into?” Dory said. She sniffled and wiped at her face.
“To keep her quiet after she started digging into his disappearance, possibly. Or for leverage against him,” Colter said, leveling her with honesty. “Someone doesn’t want us to find Charlie. I’m betting it’s whoever he’s working for.”
He thought it was safer if he didn’t tell his sister exactly who Charlie’s employer was.
Dory shook her head in worry. “We need to call the police.”
Colter shared a grim look with his brother. He knew Russell understood the score here.
“If we get the police involved, it’s at least a 50% chance that whoever has her and Charlie…will kill both of them,” Colter said. Dory sucked in a trembling breath.
“Our best bet is to keep digging,” Colter said.
“Let’s go,” Russell said, nodding at him. He stood, parting from his sister with a hand squeezing her shoulder.
“Where are you going?” Dory asked. She got up to her feet along with her brothers.
“Howley’s. It’s our only lead on Charlie’s employer,” Colter replied.
“Okay, but wait—” Dory reached out for Russell’s arm. It was a reflex as she tried to wrap her mind around all of this.
Russell grasped her shoulders gently enough, but he made sure she saw the sense of urgency in his eyes.
“We don’t have time,” he said. “From here on out, every second counts.”
After a beat, Dory nodded in acceptance. She let go of his jacket.
“Okay, keep me updated.”
“Will do,” he said, and he swiftly followed Colter out the door.
The brothers drove in silence to the bar. Colter noted his brother’s tension, and the grim set to his jaw.
“Hey,” Colter said, earning Russell’s attention. Colter gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her. We’ll find both of them.”
Russell exhaled. “Yeah.”
Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.
Once they got back to Howley’s, they started by questioning the bartender about Eddie Mendez.
“He’s not here. But that’s a couple of his friends over there,” the bartender said. He pointed them in the direction of a couple of guys drinking near the back. Three of them were sitting at a table playing cards.
Russell recognized two of them. One was the same guy who made the mistake of hassling you by the pool table. He’d gotten a bloody nose for his trouble. Russell smirked at the memory.
“Pete, make a fucking move already,” said one of the guy’s buddies.
Russell caught it as he and Colter approached them. This time, Pete seemed at least somewhat sober, even with his second beer in hand. Another bottle sat empty beside his arm.
“Hey, fellas,” Russell greeted the table. “Little Blackjack, little booze. Looks like a good night you’re having.”
“Do I know you?” Pete asked. His face showed a spark of recognition when he took in Russell.
“Well, you’re about to. We’re looking for one of your friends, Eddie,” he replied.
Pete set his beer down on the table. Predictably, he crossed his arms and closed up.
“I don’t know no Eddie.”
Russell resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“I realize it’s hard for you, but don’t be dumb. Eddie Mendez,” he pressed.
Pete glanced at his friends, then he stood from the table, drawing himself to his full height. He was a bit bigger than Russell, but a beer gut wasn’t everything.
Russell seized up the man in front of him with an almost lazy grin. By contrast, his eyes were sharp, betraying his true thoughts.
“Now remember. Whatever you start, I’m gonna damn well finish,” he said.
That sure ignited Pete’s memory. He seemed to be remembering your smaller fist nearly breaking his nose. His face fell with an angry frown. Russell smirked.
Colter laid a warning hand on his brother’s arm.
“We’re not looking for trouble. We’re just trying to find someone Eddie might know. Charlie,” Colter said. “Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t,” Pete claimed.
“Like you didn’t know Eddie?” Colter replied, raising a brow. “Where can we find him?”
“Now you are looking for trouble,” Pete spat. “Fuck off, Timberlake.”
Just then, Colter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a text from Dory, asking for an update. He ignored the message for now and put his phone away.
Hearing a commotion, he quickly looked up in time to realize that Russell had wrangled Pete into a stronghold with his arm behind his back and had slammed him onto the table. Drinks and bottles rattled and spilled; playing cards fell to the floor. Pete’s friends got up with angry, threatening gaits.
“I think you can point us in the right direction before I break this meaty arm of yours. How about that?” Russell said.
“Hey! No fighting!” the bartender called from the front. “Take that shit outside.”
Colter internally sighed, but he’d have to roll with this, even though this wasn’t how he’d wanted to play it.
“I wouldn’t test him,” Colter advised. “That’s gonna be a bad break. You got good health insurance, Pete? You’ll probably need surgery, expensive bills, a little physical therapy, a few months of recovery time.”
Pete seemed to weigh Colter’s logic, albeit with an angry huff. He waved off his friends and caught his breath while pinned against the table.
“I can’t talk to you,” he said. “I’ll get myself killed.”
“I’d worry more about your odds right now, Pete,” Russell said. He tightened his twisted hold on the man’s arm, earning a strangled sound of pain.
Colter weighed the options here in record time, and he came to a decision. He grasped Russell’s arm firmly.
“Let him go,” he said.
Russell gave him a look of disbelief. “Colt?”
Colter implored him with his eyes. Trust me.
After a few more seconds, Russell’s lips pursed, but he let the guy go.
“Ah, fuck,” Pete muttered. After he was able to straighten up, he rubbed his aching arm and shot them both a red-faced glare.
Colter steered his brother out of the bar before a real fight could break out. He knew it’d become a bloody mess, and they didn’t have time for a night stay in a county jail cell this time.
“You better have a damn plan,” Russell whispered, as they neared the front doors of the bar.
“You know I do,” Colter replied.
They later sat in his truck while it was still turned off. Just waiting in silence.
A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.
Colter started up his own car, and he followed them.
You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.
Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement.
“No…”
That voice was all too familiar.
The bag was finally ripped off your head, the edge of it catching in your frizzy hair. You blinked wearily at the florescent lights above, and you wiped at your tears and smudged mascara. Your breath left your lungs when you saw your brother, Charlie.
He was tied to a chair, shirtless and shoeless, beaten and bloody. Some parts of his skin even looked burned. His jeans remained, at least. But his face was hard to look at. His left eye was swollen, his lip split, his cheek cut and bloody. Both his eyes were red-rimmed, and he was sweaty and dirty, as if they’d been keeping him down here like an animal. He looked thinner too.
He stared back at you in dismay, your name falling from his lips.
You tried to scramble over to him, but someone grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back. You cried out in pain.
“Eddie stop! Don’t hurt her!” he shouted. He drew enough strength to pull at his restraints. Your hands reached back on reflex to grasp at the hand holding your hair.
“No, you did this,” Eddie said. He clicked the safety off his handgun and pointed the barrel at your head, right between the eyes. You gasped and froze where you sat.
“You couldn’t make it easy, huh? Well now, I’m making it real simple for you,” he continued. “Even more simple, now that we cut out the middleman.”
Eddie gestured to what looked like a woven potato sack laid behind Charlie’s chair, but really, that was just part of it. As your eyes scanned over, you saw the narrow shoulders of a man with a familiar dark blue blazer. It was stained red with a bloody hole carved through the back. Your breath stilled in your lungs.
Eddie glanced over at you, his lips curving. He walked over to the dead body, turned it over with his boot, and dragged off the potato sack to reveal the lifeless blue eyes of Dr. Feinman.
Your eyes widened.
You let out a blood-curdling scream that startled a pigeon out of the warehouse, from where it had been perching on a high support ledge. You leaned back on your bound hands, but you could go no further as one of Eddie’s men grabbed your shoulder, pinning you on the ground. His annoyed face told you to shut the fuck up.
Charlie grimaced and turned his face from the sight of the body. Both shame and hate filled his eyes when Eddie bent down to face him.
“Tell me where you hid the goddamn weapons,” he demanded.
Your lips trembled as new tears brimmed over and streamed down your cheeks. You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.
Your brother saw your disappointment, and he accepted it. But lacking an answer, Eddie pistol whipped you in the face, earning a pained cry from you as you fell back onto the ground. You had to blink the stars out of your eyes.
After his shock wore off, Charlie’s face hardened with fury.
“Oh, don’t give me that fucking face,” Eddie said. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, startling another sharp breath from you. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, what I did to you’ll be child’s play, compared to what I’m gonna do to her. And you’re going to watch.”
Against your will, tears filled your eyes while you stared at your brother. You were terrified, and Charlie knew it. He was scared too, but he also knew then what he had to do.
“I buried them,” he admitted.
“You buried them?” Eddie repeated. He brushed back his dark hair with the same hand that held his gun. “Ain’t that ironic. All right, where did you bury them?”
“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.”
Eddie shook his head on a sigh. “Of fucking course.”
He gestured to his men waiting nearby. He wordlessly gave them the order to untie your brother.
“All right, Charlie. Let’s go for a drive,” he said, and gave you a sleazy smile. “You too, sweetheart.”
He hauled you up onto your feet and kept you close to him, with a hand like a vice around your arm. God, you hated a sweethearting man.
You held your breath. You could only pray that Dory had noticed you were missing…and that Russell and Colter could find you before it was too late.
Please…
It was still dark out, but the sky was beginning to lighten when Colter pulled to the side of the road. The car they followed had stopped in front of a warehouse near an industrial downtown area. Colter spotted the blue sedan from the Ring Camera footage. It was parked out front.
With a shared nod of understanding, Colter and Russell climbed out of the truck and took the time to arm themselves properly before scoping out the warehouse.
“What does a drug cartel want with museum artifacts?” Russell remarked as they were gearing up. “That’s still not adding up for me.”
“It is odd, but maybe the idea came from Charlie,” Colter said. “He had access. Maybe he saw it as a way to buy their trust.”
“Okay, then what went wrong? Why’d they take her?” Russell replied. “I don’t know, man. Something feels off here.”
Colter nodded in agreement. “We don’t have all the pieces yet.”
But they were about to get them. They moved closer to the warehouse, with Russell heading towards a side door and Colter going around the back. They saw a few men crowded around a TV in the corner of the warehouse. Behind them were crates upon crates of what surely was product. Probably tens of thousands worth of coke.
Jesus, Russell thought. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but still. This was a serious operation.
Colter caught sight of a lone chair under a bright corner of the room. It was stained with sweat and blood, and some cut ropes hung from the seat. He alerted Russell to the scene with a subtle gesture of his raised gun. Russell’s face turned grim. He nodded minimally, then pointed with his eyes at the group of unsuspecting men. The brothers drew in closer.
Russell fired a shot directly into the TV screen, making it crash onto the ground. The men startled like rats, but they soon faced Russell and Colter’s guns. When one of them reached for the gun tucked in their pants, Colter aimed directly at him.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Colter warned.
“Where’s Charlie?” Russell demanded. “And his sister.”
He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt.
“How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted.
The depths of his voice reverberated widely in the warehouse. It set the tone for things to come, if he didn’t get some cooperation.
Pete shifted on his feet, betraying his nerves. His forehead was starting to sweat too.
“They’re not here,” he admitted. “They left a while ago.”
Russell flexed his finger over the trigger of his gun.
“Tell me where,” he said.
Eddie wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy kind of guy. He kicked his boot against a tree while leaning against it.
“Fucking rock in my shoe,” he muttered angrily.
He was getting more and more frustrated with the uneven terrain (and the mosquitos) the longer the five of you trekked onwards: including you, Charlie, Eddie, and two of his men, Rick and Kevin. Both of them had guns trained on your back and Charlie’s.
“I’m sorry,” Charlie said quietly to you.
You shook your head. Disappointment didn’t even begin to cover what you were feeling as you looked at him, but at least they’d given him a shirt to cover his beaten torso. His face wasn't so lucky.
He righted you when you struggled on the gravel and loose dirt in your ankle boots. Your hands were still tied together too.
“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, as you caught your breath.
“I needed the money,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t an excuse. “I was his bodyguard.”
“He’s a drug dealer,” you snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.”
You let out a sharp breath, and tried to blink past your tears. Another disappointment, another heartbreak for the books.
“But when he offered me a job to pay off what I owed, he wanted insurance that I’d stick around. To prove myself,” Charlie explained. “He came up with the idea to rob the museum.”
“Why was Dr. Feinman involved? Did he find out?” you asked.
Charlie nodded with a sigh. “He caught me the first time I tried to steal the artifacts. I…I lied. Told him we planned to sell them. So instead of turning me in, he wanted to be cut into the deal.”
“What? Why?” you said. Your former boss was many things—a stuffy, self-important man chief among them—but you’d never taken him for a thief.
Charlie gave you a wry look. “Owed his second wife up to his eyeballs. Alimony’s a real bitch.”
You shook your head. That explained why Charlie hadn’t yet been a suspect in the theft. Feinman had probably helped cover Charlie’s tracks. But whatever shortcomings Feinman had, he hadn’t deserved to die like that. A shudder went through your body, remembering his lifeless eyes. You breathed out slowly and tried to rid yourself of the nightmarish image. You managed to push past that to ask your next question.
“And who chose the Native American weapons?”
Charlie’s lips pursed. He glanced over his shoulder. “He did. Thought they looked cool.”
Eddie smirked and waved his gun at him, spurring you both onward. Charlie kept walking and turned his attention back to you.
“The way I figured it, the museum shouldn’t have them anyway.”
Your lips pursed at that. You sort of saw his point there, however convoluted his justification, but putting those artifacts in the hands of a drug dealer was even worse.
“And this is so much better for them,” you said pointedly.
“That’s why I couldn’t go through with it. Tried to get out of the whole damn mess,” he said. “I know what you would’ve said to me. And I knew if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes.”
Your tears welled up again, when you saw the sincerity of his gaze.
“Okay, this touching little scene is making my balls itch,” Eddie said. He grabbed Charlie’s shoulder and turned him around. “Where the fuck are we going? If you’re trying to pull something smartass here, Charlie, I promise you, you’re gonna regret it.”
He cocked the safety back on his gun and pointed it at Charlie’s chest. Charlie raised slow, placating hands.
“It’s just a little further,” he promised.
“If you’re giving me the runaround—” Eddie started.
“Then what? Without me, you’ll never find it,” Charlie barked back.
Eddie’s face tightened, and he pointed the gun at you instead. You sucked in a breath.
Charlie quickly held up his bound hands again in surrender. After a beat of tension, he pointed up when he heard rushing water.
“Hear that?” he said. “I buried it on a cliff near a waterfall. We’re getting close.”
Another stretch of silence filled the clearing.
Eddie weighed Charlie’s words. When he was mollified enough, he lowered his gun away from you. At his command, Rick and Kevin kept you and your brother moving.
Charlie glanced to his right side. He realized that you all were walking near the edge of a steep hill that careened downward. Taking in a breath to center himself, he turned to you.
“I love you, you know that?” he whispered.
Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye.
That was when he swiftly turned. He snapped the heel of his hand into Kevin's throat and grabbed his gun while he was choking. Charlie shot him in the chest, then he clipped Rick in the shoulder.
Just as Eddie began to raise his own weapon, Charlie met your look of shock with his own determination.
He pushed you down the hill.
AN: I know, I know. Two cliffhangers in a row is cruel, but I promise we're getting to even more fun action and cathartic moments in Part 4! 😘
Next Time:
Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.
He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.
He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.
“Russell?!”
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4
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KISS ME THRU THE PHONE || Nishimura Riki
synopsis - surviving months on end without you while he’s touring is the equivalent of torture for bf!ni-ki, but thankfully facetime exists…
idol!ni-ki x reader / established relationship - fluff + teeny bit of angst / warnings: none! / word count: ~1k
part of ikeuluvr’s song series ᵔᴗᵔ — works inspired by songs! requests are open for other songs + anything else you would like to see from me <3
Ni-ki loves the rush of performing more than anything in the world. Standing on stage in dozens of different countries—looking out at the faces of his fans while some of them cheer, some laugh, dance, or even cry. The sound of everyone screaming his name makes him feel like the luckiest man alive. He dreads leaving the stage each night; watching the lights of the crowd slowly disappear as the screens close in front of him, giving him one less thing to look forward to. However, the one thing he knows he can always count on is speaking to you at the end of the night.
As much as Ni-ki adores touring, a small glint of guilt always resides in his heart each time he has to leave you for months at a time. Each goodbye is never easier as you go from having him sitting in front of you to propping up your phone screen at the table with him on a call. The time difference was nothing enjoyable either, the both of you waking up at the crack of dawn or going to sleep obnoxiously late depending on where Ni-ki is to make sure you have a chance to speak to each other that day.
As tonight marks week five out of six of being apart, Ni-ki feels especially restless wishing nothing more than for you to be in his arms as he sleeps his exhaustion off tonight. Once he’s driven back to the hotel, he doesn’t waste any time to say good night to his members before trudging to his room and throwing himself onto the bed. He pulls out his phone and speeds to click your contact to start a FaceTime call. Letting out a sigh, he stares at his tired face on his screen until it’s replaced with yours.
“Hi beautiful,” he hums, a smile plastering on his face as all of the energy he lost suddenly rushes back into his body, “I miss you.”
“Hi Riks, I miss you so much too!” you respond excitedly as you get comfortable on your couch, the sunlight peeking through your curtains while the moonlight peeks through Ni-ki’s, “How was the show tonight? I saw clips on social media, you guys were on fire.”
Ni-ki lets out an endeared chuckle at how adorable you are—the way you always keep track of every performance makes his heart flutter, “It was really really good! I love the Chicago crowd, they’re amazing. They were so loud tonight I could barely hear myself sing even with my monitors in.”
You flash a smile, listening intently as he speaks, his eyes sparkling with each word, “Aww I’m glad, it’s what you guys deserve,” you say, “I wish I could’ve been there. It looked so fun.”
“Yeah… me too,” Ni-ki answered, his tone dropping softly as the pain of missing you starts to hit again, “I keep wanting to look for you in the crowd until I remember you’re not here.”
A frown takes over your face as Ni-ki’s voice gets solemn, your heart slowly breaking at the way his face immediately drops, “Honey… only one more week, right? Only one more week and then we can spend every night cuddling in bed again while I kiss you all over your pretty face,” I grin, trying to cheer him up a little bit.
Ni-ki lets out a laugh as a pink blush covers his cheeks, “I’ll be counting down the week by the minute, don’t worry,” he hums before pausing, a smirk drawn on his face, “Do you think you could drop of of university to start touring with me?”
“Well! No…” you laugh, “Probably not the best idea sweetie, but good question.”
“I’m kidding, I wouldn’t let you do that even if you wanted to,” Ni-ki smiles, “But I really do wish you could be here with me every night. I love my job, but I love you so much more and I just-” he lets out a defeated sigh, “I wish I could bring you along and triple the joy I feel on tour by having you in the crowd each night.” His face falls again, a mix of irritation and heartache quickly filling his voice.
You tilt your head with a pout as Ni-ki’s eyes leave the screen to look somewhere else, the pained look on his face killing you inside, “I know Riki… I wish more than anything I could be with you too. In the future when things are a little different, we’ll travel the world together, hm? I’ll make you my cute little tour guide in every country,” you snicker with a smile, trying to bring him out of his melancholic state.
He lets out a snort at your response, playfully rolling his eyes, “Okay babe, I promise to be your cute and very handsome tour guide in the future,” Ni-ki retorts, letting out a long breath, “Hey love, can you give me a kiss?”
You quirk an eyebrow at his request thinking the jet lag may be getting to him at an exponential level and pause for a second to think of how to respond, “Ummm… I would love to baby, but there’s kind of an obstacle in the way if you haven’t noticed.”
“No, no I know, I’m not stupid I promise,” he chuckles, “But I miss you, I miss you, I really wanna kiss you…”
“And how are you expecting me to do this, Riks?”
“Baby, kiss me thru the phone,” Ni-ki says in a shy whisper, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips making you smile and flush a rosy pink, “Come on… I know you want to.”
“You’re so ridiculous, you know that?” you laugh, absolutely smitten with your boyfriend on the other end of the line, “But fine… I’ll kiss you thru the phone babe.”
Ni-ki lets out a giggle as he cheeses a boxy smile, quickly bringing the phone closer to his face and planting a kiss to his phone camera just as excitedly as if it were your actual lips he was kissing. You do the same with a lovesick grin painted on your face, pulling away a few seconds later to see the same adoring smile on Ni-ki’s lips, “We get to do that but for real in 7 days you know…” you remind him with a playful smile.
“Can’t wait baby… see you then.”
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#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen au#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen niki#enhypen niki x reader#enha niki#enha nishimura riki#niki enhypen#Spotify#ikeuluvrcreations#ikeuluvrsongseries
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Thin Ice: part one
Hockey! Vi x reader
Warnings: none in this part
Genre: fluff, angst
A/N: okay!! so this is my attempt in starting a series about hockey Vi based on this dream I had months and the Sailor Song by Gigi Perez and Moments by MOIO okay so wish me luck!! also none of my fics are truly edited I just re-read them till I can’t and pray my grammar is good. Reader is kinda naive/one track minded and very insecure in this. I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HOCKEY SO BARE WITH ME!!
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I’ve been skating since I was a little girl. It was the only place I could call home. Skating was the only place I was finally the smartest and brightest in the room since I was perceived otherwise academically…and I do lack a bit in the common sense area.
They say there’s a zone we enter when we’re aligning our energy with the activity we love. My alignment is when I soar through the air, or just don’t fall flat on my ass. It was another one of those moments, heading to the rink when I was stopped.
“What are you doing here cupcake?”
When my eyes focus on her I was taken aback as I try to quickly study her. Why was my roommate here? “You know I practice here.” I state as I lace up.
She chuckled as she looks me up in down. I’m in a black bodysuit covered by a pink skirt and leg warmers over my matching pink skates, my coily hair put into a bun by a bow. “The practice is reserved for the hockey team. Did you not see the schedule posted outside?” She says with a small smile, I tilt my head “they changed the schedule?” Her smile flatters a bit and twitches as she points to the wall. I make an “o” shape with my mouth putting the pieces together. She pats my shoulders and skates away. In reparations of me fucking up I stay and watch.
Our college; Piltover university offers an array of extracurricular activities and in my three years of being here I’ve never known of this damn schedule changing!
Number 6, is an interesting player and my roommate. She brings an obvious aggression that the sport needs but she’s so swift and fast. I don’t know much about hockey but I do know she just scored so I might as well cheer for her right? Wrong! Getting stared at and the small but big enough snickers for me was enough to make me wanna to shrink and crawl into a hole and dissolve into a sunflower seed and sprout- well you get the point. This pushes me to attempt a swift exit.
When making my hurried exit she skates to the edge and whistles at me to get my attention. “Don’t leave, I appreciate having a personal cheerleader.” Her plump lips growing into a wolf-ish grin as she stares me down, always wanting a reaction. “Well I’m not a cheerleader I’m an ice skater! No disrespect to cheerleaders though I mean that takes a lot of courage, I know I could never-”
“It wasn’t a diss cupcake.” She stated before winking and skating away.
My face has never felt this hot before! Today is the day of utter shame and cruel unusual punishment. Now I have to figure out a new place to skate because I refuse to make the same mistake again…or read the time sheet next time who knows!
I make a routine out of avoiding the rink around 5-8 so I go during the wee hours of the morning. Kinda killing my sleeping schedule but hey pride am I right?
I don’t skate to be on a team, I prefer to be by myself and skate for me. It gets lonely sure but no one has ever supported me in doing this. All the slick comments of “oh why not be a majorette? On a step team? Why’d you stop stepping? You wanna be any race but black! Blah blah blah!” Don’t get me wrong those are beautiful activities in my culture but black girls can be everything and more at once. When I stepped it was fun and I could feel the unity but the feeling skating gave me made me feel like the most beautiful and the closest to my blackness. So when it came down to picking what I really wanted I chose skating, and been on my own since, because girls like me don’t belong here. Proving people wrong has been my biggest motivation, maybe I’m being a hard-ass but I don’t care; it feels good when I do in the end.
This routine I was practicing was more than difficult…axels hate me and I hate axels but I’m trying to land a quadruple axel.
My mind relaxes as my chest thumps, today feels like day…something I tell myself a lot. My momentum pushed as “Pearls” by Sade plays. I push off my left leg to project myself into the air. One…two…three…four-ish? My spin wasn’t complete and my landing was shaky, but I can try again. So I tried again and again! Frustrated I push myself, my skates cutting deep as I try to gain speed. Leaping into the air I spin one…two…three…four times! However I land flat on my ass. “Fuck!” I yell and i cover my face and I can’t control the wobble in my lip when I hear claps.
“And here I thought you were sneaking out to do something cool.” Vi states as she carefully glides over.
“I don’t need that right now.” I mutter, “company?” She lays on the ice with me.
Vi and I’s relationship is complicated. When we met in freshman year we hooked up then we ghosted each other. Sophomore year we both joined the literature club and gained a true friendship with a side of fucking whenever we’re both single. Now junior year I just feel distant with her.
She rubbed my cheek, “you don’t talk to me anymore.” I move from her touch…wishing I didn’t I know reaching out is hard for her. “I’m sorry”
“Don’t be sorry do better” she stood up shoving her hands in her pockets. “C’mon we’re going out.” I know not to argue so I oblige.
“The library?” I scoff in a whisper, “we are English majors.” She nudges me with her shoulder and I nudge her back.
We find a cozy nook and read our respective books. The two of us haven’t hung out in so long. I didn’t realize how much I missed her. I take her book. “Hey!” She reaches over me. Her pale blue eyes stare into my dark brown eyes. A soft blush spreads over her freckled cheeks and her eyebrows soften. “I miss you” we both whisper then laugh. Vi moves from me and takes my hand.
I’ve never been the type of person to be comfortable around others, wanting to be apart of a team but with Vi…I want to try everything.
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A/N: im so excited to start this series!! I wanted to challenge myself and I hope you guys enjoy <3
(Dividers by @dollywons)
#vi x reader#scared femme writes#dazeduties#vi x black reader#hockey!au#hockey! vi#ice skater! reader#black! reader#black femme#college! vi#yes vi would be an English or engineer major she’s smart
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A Love For Christmas Part 7
Hello! Welcome to penultimate chapter! I've been loving the little guess on the elf, who will be revealed tonight in the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged. You make my day brighter.
Sledding is fun is because it's dangerous. And the company holiday party arrives.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
~
The next thing I put the little elf in charge of was the sleds used for sledding. There isn’t much to do in the North Pole, so we always trying to have some fun. Ice skating and sledding are two such pleasures we get to enjoy year round.
I let out a jolly laugh to see that they were finally having fun. Just enjoying themselves and being free.
I should have known that wasn’t going to last.
They got up on the highest hill with the swiftest sled and with one mighty push, they were careening down the slope, getting faster and faster.
I thought for sure they would hit the bottom of the slope and jackknife right into the snow bank at the bottom.
But I was wrong.
What happened might well be considered worse.
They hit the bottom of the slope, but instead of slowly, like it was meant to, it kept going. The elf tried to steer. To get it to slow down.
But it was fruitless.
They saw what was coming and dived off the sled, rolling into the snow. They rose in time to watch the runaway sled crash through the remaining snowpeople, knocking them down like bowling pins or dominoes.
They looked up at me, eyes wide with shame and bewilderment. There was no reason it should have continued like that.
And I suspected sabotage and sure enough another elf’s name appeared on my naughty list that afternoon.
So I gathered up the elf and told them, I would find something special for them to do. Something I knew they could be good at if they tried.
Making friends.
~
When Steve told Eddie that he had never gone sledding because it was too dangerous, the arborist made his mission to get Steve on the slopes as soon as possible. But that meant it would be the morning of the office Christmas party, which Steve was absolutely fine with.
Hell, if it was as dangerous as his mother claimed, maybe he would be in the hospital with a broken leg and he wouldn’t even have to go.
He bought a nice two person sled as well a single seater and brought them to Eddie’s nursery as that was where he was meeting him.
Wayne came out first as he always did because he liked talking to Steve.
“Hey Steve,” he greeted warmly. “I hear you’re taking Eddie to that fancy ‘do of yours tonight. Aren’cha worried he might bring little bit more...bedlam then the occasion calls for?”
Steve threw back his head and laughed. “God, I hope so! I hope he brings all the chaos loving, long haired, metalhead energy he has in him. I want people to see how wonderfully wild and outrageous he is, because I that’s what I adore about him.”
Wayne blinked at him for a moment and then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And Eddie is aware of this...plan?”
“Yup!” Eddie said cheerfully, popping out from behind one of the Noble firs. “It’s part of the reason I agreed to go. Me and Stevie here are going to have a real good time.”
Wayne shook his head fondly. “All right, as long you both know what you’re in for, I’m not going to stop ya.”
“We’re taking my van,” Eddie said, turning to Steve, “if that’s okay.”
“Yup!” Steve replied licking his lips and pursing them to hide the bright smile on his face. “I’ll just grab my sleds and I’ll meet you at the van.”
“Great!” Eddie said full dimples on display and Steve couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that sunk into his soul that it was aimed at him.
He hurried to his car and got the two sleds out of his car and trotted over to Eddie’s van.
Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Wha’cha got two for?”
“I’m too chicken to go myself the first couple of times,” he said holding up the two-seater. “So I’m hoping you’ll go with me in this. And then...” he held up the single person sled, “once I’m brave enough to go on my own, that’s what this is for!”
Eddie cocked his head to the other side, admiring him. “That’s some good thinking. Of course I’ll come with you the first couple of times until you get your sled legs.”
Steve laughed, putting the sleds in the back of Eddie’s van. “What the fuck is sled legs?”
They both got in the van.
“It’s like sea legs only with sledding.”
Steve shook his head. “Of course it is. What was I thinking?”
“You weren’t,” Eddie said, starting the engine. “But that’s because you’re in the presence of the wonderful me! It’s such a trial to be this pretty!”
He leaned into Steve’s space and fluttered his eyelashes at him. So Steve did the only thing he could think of.
He kissed the tip of Eddie’s nose. “You’re cute.”
Eddie blushed and sputtered. “You’re going to ruin my reputation is what you’re going to be doing here, Stevie.”
Steve just laughed.
They got to the park where they were doing the sledding and the hills were covered in people of all ages screaming and laughing and just have a blast.
“This always looked so fun to me growing up,” Steve said wistfully. “But my mom would never allow me to go. Not even when my best friends tried to sic their moms at her. It was just too much for her precious boy.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat!” Eddie said gleefully throwing himself out of the van. Steve scrambled to catch up.
They grabbed their sleds and raced to the hill.
Will spotted them first and started waving vigorously. Steve and Eddie grinned, then made their way to them.
“Hey!” Mike said with a returning grin. “You guys made it. We’ve been here for hours!”
And they certainly looked it. Their cheeks and noses were red and their pants were soaked to their skin, but they looked like they could go all day without breaking their stride.
“Some of us work for a living,” Eddie groused. “Teenagers!”
“Nancy and Robin both work and they’ve been here all morning,” Dustin huffed, pointing over to the two girls.
There standing on the top of the hill in snow suits. Robin, Steve clocked immediately. She was in a mix-matched suit that was navy blue on the bottom but an ugly brown up top. The other girl was all in pink with bright blue mittens, cap, and scarf. Her curly hair stuck from her under her cap and her cheeks were rosy.
Honestly, if Steve hadn’t known any better, he would have pegged Eddie as her brother, not Mike.
“That was nice of their bosses to let them take the day off,” Steve said with a smirk. “Eddie’s is running the nursery with just him and Wayne, and my boss is a bag of dicks. So...maybe don’t compare what you don’t know.”
Everyone turned and looked at Steve wide-eyed like they had just witnessed a murder. Which, Steve thought with a huff, they probably had.
Then everyone oohhing and whistling and calling Mike out. He just rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever.”
That was when Steve knew he had truly won.
Eddie set down his sled and then took the two seater from Steve. “You ready for this, big boy?”
“I guess, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” Steve said with a smile.
Eddie set up the sled at the top of the hill and said, “All right, you get on first and steer and I’ll push, okay?”
Steve nodded and did as he was told. Then suddenly they were off, sliding down the hill at breakneck speed. Steve did his best to avoid hitting the major bumps and too soon they were at the bottom of the hill.
“That was fun!” Steve said, turning around to face Eddie. “Let’s do that again!”
And so they did. Steve spent most of the afternoon on the two seater or drinking hot chocolate with Robin, trying to warm up to go back at it. She was there to supervise.
“I’m here to make sure no one gets hurt,” she said dryly. “I’m just too uncoordinated to do it.”
“So come with me on the two-seater,” Steve said. “I’ll push and you steer.”
Robin chewed her lip and then nodded. Steve grabbed it from where it was sitting next to him and hauled it over to the top of the hill. Once they were all sorted, Steve pushed them off with a shriek of laughter and they were tearing off down the hill.
They slowed at the bottom and she looked back at Steve with a wide grin. “Let’s do that again!”
Steve laughed as she echoed his previous statement.
Then it was time for Steve to try his solo trip down the hill. Robin agreed to push him gently down the hill and Eddie offered to spot him at the bottom to help ease his fears.
Steve got settled on the sled but before Robin could even push him, the sled wobbled and started off down the hill on its own. Steve yelped as he struggled to steer the sled. But it was no good, he was heading right for a bump.
“Look out!” he cried as he hit the bump going top speed.
Everyone at the bottom of the hill scrambled to get out of the way. Steve caught air and landed hard at the bottom of the hill, tumbling out of the sled and rolling to the side.
Eddie was standing over him when he finally dared to open his eyes. “Hey, you okay?”
Steve took a moment to take stock. “Sadly, yes. But I think that means I’m done for the day.”
Eddie burst out laughing and helped him to his feet. They said their goodbyes to everyone and made their way to Eddie’s van.
“Thanks so much for today,” Steve said as he climbed in. “It’s been really nice hanging out with you guys all month.”
Eddie smiled fondly. “Of course, Stevie. I just hope you find Christmas just a little bit better.”
“Yeah.”
~
Eddie was dressed up as nicely as he could be, black button up shirt, nice black slacks, but he paired them with combat boots, a leather jacket and as many chains as he could get his hands on. Steve was dressed in a simple dark grey suit with a white shirt and red tie. Eddie thought he looked dashing.
They walked in through doors of Steve’s office building and while Eddie had been there before with the trees he hadn’t seen it decked out. Joyce’s ornaments were beautifully placed and Claudia’s cooking was being doled out by servers in black vests.
“Wow,” he murmured. “You sure do know how to plan a party. Damn, man. You did good for someone who out-nerved Robin that day when you came to the nursery.”
Steve blushed. “Thanks, Eds.”
Eddie’s head whipped over at the nickname and he just lit up brighter than the Christmas tree.
Then a loud, boisterous man came storming up to them. “Steven, what is the meaning of this? You were supposed to bring a date, not the help!”
Steve blinked at him a moment and then cocked his head to the side. “But you didn’t say that though. You said I was expected to bring someone, not a date. So I picked Eddie. He’s been a real asset to helping plan this party, I couldn’t have done it without him.”
Mr. Harrington stuttered and stammered before leaving the way he came, in a huff.
“So...that was you’re dad I’m assuming,” Eddie said with a grimace. “Because hooboy, I can see why you don’t talk about him much.”
“Yep,” Steve said dryly, rocking back on his heels. “Clint Harrington, asshole extraordinaire.”
“Hey, I’m going to get something to drink,” Eddie said trying to change the subject. “You want anything?”
“Just water.”
Eddie frowned at that but went and got him an apple cider, some food and goodies, and brought Steve over some water.
“There you go,” he said brightly.
“Thanks,” he said taking a sip of the water.
He held up his plate. “You want any of this?”
Steve shook his head. “I’ll eat later.”
Eddie dug into his food and they chatted. Everyone gave them both a wide berth and Steve loved every moment of it.
“Thanks for this,” Steve said brightly after the third person skirted around them. “I’ve never had such a peaceful party before.”
Eddie chuckled. “You’re welcome. I’m going to get more of the gingerbread snaps, you want anything.”
Again Steve shook his head.
“I don’t know why you won’t take any of the spoils of your labor,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You deserve to eat this too.”
Steve looked up at him with a slight smile. “I’m allergic to orange. I literally can’t have any of it because it’s likely been touched by orange in someway, and I’d rather not spend Christmas in the ICU.”
Eddie eyes went wide. “Come again?”
Steve shrugged. “My parents do this every year. I’ve been allergic since I was seven, but they always had Christmas with everything covered in orange and complained when I refused to eat any of it.”
“Dude,” Eddie hissed. “That’s like child abuse.”
“Yeah.”
Eddie looked around and saw that everyone else was having fun while Steve was forced to put on a smile and not enjoy any of it.
“Do you want to get out of here and grab a burger?”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, sure. I just need to do something really quick. I’ll meet you by the car.”
Eddie nodded and went downstairs.
Steve slipped into his office and sent off an email with a grin on his face. As he was leaving his father stopped him.
“I’m don’t know what you are trying to pull with this,” he hissed. “But your mother doesn’t want to see you until after New Year’s, she that upset!”
Steve shook him off. “Maybe I’ll get to eat something for Christmas for a change.”
He stormed off, racing down the stairs and out into the crisp winter air. Eddie was by Steve’s car and he just held his arms open.
Steve dashed right into them and buried his head into Eddie’s neck. “I just quit.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. “You did what now?”
“I sent in my two weeks notice, dated today,” Steve said with a grin. “They won’t see until the 5th of next month when they all come back, but by then the two weeks will be up and they’ll have to give my severance as well as all my PTO that I’ve accrued.”
“And just how much will that be?” Eddie asked looking down at this man of his dreams.
“At least sixty thousand dollars,” Steve replied, his grin growing wider. “Enough to get me through school to get my teaching degree so I can teach middle school.”
Eddie burst out laughing. “You are a menace, Steve Harrington.”
“Yeah.”
“Come over to our place on Christmas,” Eddie said, “enjoy the holiday for a change.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
~
Part 8
Tag List: COMPLETED
1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs
2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006
5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss
9- @steddieislife @tartarusknight @themoonagainstmers
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#hallmark christmas au#businessman steve harrington#christmas tree farmer eddie munson
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My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 30 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉 (because rules were made to be broken)
TYSM for tagging me @herecirmsims, @elderwisp, and @changingplumbob 💖 As per usual, I went overboard... oops!
Before I forget -- I am going to tag @honeyjars-sims, @raiiny-bay, @havenroyals, @likelyamused, and @dandylion240 (ofc, feel free to ignore me if you've already done it, or if you just don't wanna)
JANUARY
We started the year in Sulani where Phoenix and Dawn got engaged! Let us all take a moment to remember the glory that was Phoenix with a tan 😍
I call this - My Love Affair with Brindleton Bay (Part 1)
I love them. This isn't even the greatest screenshot, but it will forever be one of my favorites. One day I will put together a collage of forehead kisses for these two.
FEBRUARY
My Love Affair with Brindleton Bay (Part 2)
Mario, Luigi, and Yoshi were always happy to steal focus when I needed to blur things happening in the background... 😏
Atlas forever being the best uncle in the world... and fascinated with his niece having his eyes
MARCH
Me peeking through the foliage while Phoenix introduces his wife and child to his mom... the only way he knows how 🥺🤍
APRIL
😂 Ok so March and April are pretty sparse... I took a break in the Spring because I was going through a breakup and a move. I spent that time focusing on things that made me happy - like writing The Past arc for the boys and laughing at Dawn's ridiculous in-game expressions 😂
MAY
I'm so glad I took that break because I was able to come back and give Phoenix and Dawn the wedding they deserved! I also LOVE these last two shots... After the party ended, those three were goofing off and having so much fun... and then giving Phoenix the MOST thoughtful gift... it still makes me tear up! 🥹
JUNE
And so it begins... This nightmare sequence was so much fun to put together! And this shot is by far my favorite... it was totally by accident, but oh so perfect
The Past my beloved... I love this shot sm... the morning light, the fall colors, Ash and Lex being Ash and Lex while Atlas tags along behind them (he'd only known Ash for 24 hours and was already crushing... poor boy didn't stand a chance)
Oh yeah! Remember Chestnut Ridge?! The way I jumped around in this part istg... You're all incredible for putting up with me this summer 😂 Okay but I love this one because of how all the animals are turned to look at Danny... again, a total accident, but perfectly foreshadows what I have in mind for his future!
Back the The Past - What's perfect about this one is how the only thing in focus is where they are touching.
I’m acutely aware that his leg is resting against me now, and he’s rolling the fabric of my sleeve between his thumb and middle finger. Normally, I would have already scooted away from the sofa. Pivoted my body so the conversation could continue, but so that I could not be touched. But I don’t feel any need to do that. Not with him. His affection is so subtle and absent-minded; I can tell he’s just feeling comfortable with me. Something about that makes me feel comfortable with him too.
JULY
AHHHHHH!!! I still lose my mind over this moment!!! Like... the way physical touch plays such a big role throughout this arc, and getting to see Atlas evolve from someone who always kept his distance from people to being the affectionate teddy bear he is today... and the way Ash is so sweet and mindful and considerate through it all...
And then I look down, down to where I feel his hand come to rest on my leg, the heat of it warming my thigh. “Is that okay?” He asks, “Do you want me to move my hand?” I look up into his eyes and shake my head slightly, “No. No, it’s okay.”
THEIR FIRST KISS!!!!! The tippy toes pls!!! 😭 I'm not gonna lie.... I forgot the entire purpose of this post and am now lost to reminiscing... I already miss this arc so much!!!
Taking my time, I brush my lips lightly against his before kissing him softly. Holding myself back, not because I’m unsure, but because I’ve never been more certain of anything. I want to savor this moment, commit it to memory so I can revisit it tomorrow, and every day after.
A brief look into The Present as these two make plans for the future that I will inevitably ruin for them because I felt compelled to go into CAS and play around with genetics and rewrite the entire ending to this arc. Sorry not sorry boys!
aaaand back to The Past for our first peek at Ash's POV as he realizes he may be falling for Atlas
Y’know, my biggest fear is drowning, especially in the ocean, and yet, my favorite place is the beach near my parents’ house, sitting right at the water’s edge. Being with Atlas, it reminds me of this place. The bright blue of his eyes, the sandy color of his hair, and the dusting of freckles across his nose. And the way being near him makes me feel just a little nervous, like at any moment I could get swept away and lose myself completely.
AUGUST
Oh yeah! Chestnut Ridge and Joey's cliche dad-logic moment! Seriously guys... thank you for putting up with my nonsense... But OMG! Did you know you can set the horses to buck riders off every time they try to get on? 10/10 recommend if you need a laugh! I had so much fun with this scene... Phoenix, on the other hand, did not 🫣
This one. You have no idea. I struggled SO MUCH with trying to figure this scene out... and only those in our discord writing group will know how I lost my mind when these poses were released and gave me the inspiration I needed... I'm pretty sure I shot this scene a month before I even started this arc because I couldn't get it out of my head... I should also add that these two died in process of making it, and I fucked up this lot while trying to place all the lights and decos via TOOL and had to start all over in another save (which worked out because the Romance Festival spawned in the new one making it all so much better and more lively)... I went through a lot for this shot, and I will hold it near and dear to my heart forever as a result.
SEPTEMBER
Just them. Holding hands. In The Present. 🥹 I just like this one a lot... it's actually the desktop background on my PC lol
A hazy dream in neon pink
Don't worry... they're JUST FRIENDS (who are clearly in love with each other and on mdma and suddenly can't keep their hands off each other)
As he backs himself against the wall, pulling me into him, I finally understand. “Is this okay?” he asks. I lean in so fast that I practically breathe the answer into his mouth, “Yeah,” and before I know it, we’re making out again. But this time is far more intense, our kisses deeper, our breathing ragged, our hands grabbing fistfuls of hair and clothing and clawing at skin as though our desire for each other has grown into some kind of wild animal. Finally free from its cage, there’s no going back now.
💛🩵💛🩵 What am I doing again? I think I've lost the plot...
OCTOBER
Oh yeah... fave screenshots of 2024! We're so back! San Myshuno my beloved
The Proposal 😭 Spoiler alert... they were never "just friends" ajsdkakljs Also, I had to exit and go back in game three times to keep those bright red/orange skies for this scene... worth it!
NOVEMBER
A glimpse of The Future... and bb is confused af
DECEMBER
Things are different now in ways they don't quite understand, but they have each other 🥹🩵💛
For the rest of our lives, we're in this together.
#what a fkin journey this year was!!#also if any of you actually took the time to read through all my nonsense i love you and you deserve a cookie#❤️🍪❤️🍪#and i will indeed be putting together a collage of forehead kisses#i knew there were a lot but omg#actually going through all my screenies and seeing them#i love that's it's just become their thing yknow#they're so sweet#i love themb sm#tag game
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It was a little nerve wracking, the idea of him reading through something she'd notated. Sure, it was a children's book, and the notations were nothing too interesting, but still - it was a look at the inside of her mind, and the idea of him seeing that side of her made her a little nervous. So she simply nodded and let it go.
"Yeah, to China." Maybe he could feel it - the way that Cora relaxed a little more in this moment. She loved it, the process of planning an adventure, going and immersing herself in the culture, losing herself a little in a new place. "I'm working for a few days - general stories about the Great Wall, the Forbidden City." Spending her time trying to find a new angle to old places. "Once work is done, I'll just let myself get a little lost for a couple of weeks." It was a careful balance - wanting to make sure she saw certain tourist hot spots, but also wanting to make sure she was fluid enough to let the experience guide her. "If you've got any suggestions, let me know."
"Ahh, apologies, I thought you meant she wanted to go to London and Orlando. But avoiding Orlando is always a good idea." Shrugging off what felt like an easy mistake, she looked back at him, giving him a small smile. "Hmmm." She didn't point out that it seemed like she and Lily shared some similarities, not wanting to a ruin a good thing. "What day in May? Her birthday, I mean." It could seem like none of her business, and he didn't have to tell her. "I wonder how many days apart we are. Mine is the 14th."
And then the ease was gone for a moment, Cora feeling the tension in him. Okay. A line had been hit. So she took a few beats, letting herself relax, not interested in both of them feeling uncomfortable. She let out a small, silent exhale, that surely he could feel with his arms around her.
"You're you. You're this very important man. You have your business, so you have your employees and that stress." She was speaking slowly, fingertips grazing over one of his arms lightly, trying to ease any tension that may still be in the room with them. "I'm sure there are plenty of people I can't even think about that you're responsible. Then there's your family." And a full circle moment, "And then there's you."
She wanted him to understand she didn't have ulterior motives, that she wasn't trying to angle for more from him. But she also didn't know how to express that the longer they did this thing together, the more she would inevitably care about him. She just didn't know how to untie those parts of herself. "So while you're busy making the world turn." This was not a joke, this was said with sincerity. "Who is making sure that you're getting whatever it is that you need - rest, fun, relaxation, food - who is making sure you're not going to crumble?"
"I'll think about it." His next kiss was just as gentle, a little higher, placed just beneath the lobe of her ear. "Bring it by, and I'll have a look." He wasn't exactly eager for Lily to know about Cora at this point, but he supposed he didn't have to tell his daughter who the book had come from. And if Cora was as smart as he thought she might be, her observations in the book might even be educational to Lily. And that, he would never deny her. So he'd look through it, peruse her annotations, and if he deemed them worthwhile, he actually, surprisingly enough, would let his daughter read Cora's copy.
"To China, you mean?" He smiled a little, imagining Cora's energetic personality among the Chinese. "It's an interesting country to travel, though a few weeks isn't long considering the size of it - how are you prioritising your time there?" He might have come off a little patronising, like the well-travelled older man that he was, but his tone was affected with enough genuine curiosity about her trip to avoid it.
"It's not a theme park," he corrected gently, "there are no rides or anything of that nature. The Harry Potter World you'll find just outside London is more like... a museum. It's a Warner Brothers studio tour of sets, props and costumes from the movies. It's supposed to be quite an interesting experience... if you're a Harry Potter enthusiast." His broad shoulders shrugged lightly. "My PA is planning a trip for us in May next year for her birthday."
Her next question took him by surprise, enough for his back to tense up momentarily. He straightened, automatically taking her with him as his arms were still locked securely around her. "Taking care of me?" He then questioned, his tone calm enough but without the easy energy it had possessed just moments earlier. "Taking care of me how?"
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PHIGHT OR PHLIGHT
Happy holidays!!! Here's chapter 4!! I might have a special present by christmas for yall if I'm not too busy :)
Hope yall enjoy stinky man crashing out while his rogue robot reconsider his career change!!
Bit of a content warning here: religious ideology and character death, read at your own discretion.
Part 1 || Part 3 || Part 5
Using the power of a god as a battery, how laughable. But this connection could do more than that, it was a direct way of influence. Granted it would be easier to leave him as he is, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, he’d get there eventually, may as well speed up the process and play with the product. Frankly, it doesn’t truly matter either way, alive or not, there’s nothing that can’t be manipulated.
Biograft could feel the air of the room around him, he lies shut down on the workbench as Medkit integrates the eye to power him. He felt the air inside him, his poor cooling system barely keeping it moving. He felt himself fall deeper than his body, he felt something other than himself in his code.
“That man may have created you, carved your mind, but I gift you life, soul.”
When making him, Subspace used hard code. All Biograft had known was the simplicity of set values and fixed data. Outside of that were the servers, all updates and new information being inputted through them. That was all he had to think about, all he could think about. But some loose line of code allowed for something more. But right now, he was still just code.
“ You’ll exist proper thanks to me.”
He could feel something new brewing inside him. Hear the gentle hum of energy flowing through him, replacing the electricity he ran on. He felt him. The Father changing him.
“You could consider yourself one of my children, as I am the one to truly give you existence through a fraction of myself.”
This pushing, crowding, invading of his innermost self. Is it even him thinking?
“I hold all my followers dear, but you? I have high hopes for. You best not disappoint. I have no use for a child which cannot provide back to me.”
Is it him thinking? Or is it this invisible force living through him? He felt the whirrs of his fans, but was it him making them move? He felt a gentle pulse as his new core began to stabilize. Did he have a heartbeat? Or was it just this hidden lord which forced its mimicry. Did he breathe? Or was the air he felt just commanded by some remorseless emperor to move as such?
“Don’t worry, don’t fight, you’ll receive what you wish, just don’t fight it.”
He felt his being expanding, preset values becoming dead weight. Stored data becoming memory-like. Simple intake and analysis becoming learning. As though he were being created, no, birthed for the first time. His limitations being stripped, he could edit his own code. But this came with a weight to it, the burden of a soul always does.
“Now then, what have you to say?”
He could speak whatever he wanted, but knew the response he owed.
“Thank you Father.”
Bigrafts lights turn on, a teal color replacing the orange they were before. The projection on his face now only showing one eye, the other replaced by a cactus flower. He sits up as Medkit watches anxiously. Biograft looks away from him and to himself, opening and closing his hands. Everything had this new depth to it; he felt his joints, his “skin”, the ever so slight warmth from the lights across him, and Medkit’s stare. After a deep breath and clearing his throat, Medkit breaks the silence, “How do you feel?”
Biograft thinks for a moment, realizing how the question doesn’t overwhelm him. He’s feeling a lot, but he’s able to think through it now. “I feel… I feel content. It’s odd, I have so much on my mind, but right now I feel okay.”
Medkit’s expression shifts slightly, showing some relief and a bit of surprise, “Good… that’s good,” he nods, “I should let Scythe know we’re finished.” Biograft nods and watches as medkit leaves. He steps off the workbench and stretches, it’s a familiar sensation, yet it’s different now. He looks down and notices the Blackrock emblem previously on his chest now replaced by that of the Lost Temple. Scythe’s and Medkit’s entrances interrupt him.
“Well lookie here!” Scythe steps in front of him, looking him up and down before putting a hand on his shoulder, “lookin like real family!” She gives a gentle squeeze before letting go and turning to Medkit, “You did a fine job on him. How’s his gear lookin?”
Biograft looks at Scythe confused, knowing what he’s about to ask she answers first, “Well we have to make sure ye distinguishable from the others don’t we? Don’t worry, I’ll teach ya how to use it.”
Medkit goes to one of the counters while Biograft responds, ‘I’m sure I’m capable of learning my own gear-”
Scythe cuts him off as Medkit walks towards the two with Biograft’s new weapon, “Aw but where’s the fun in that, besides you’ll already be with me for the next lil while considerin’ I gotta show you around.” Biograft opted not to respond, recognizing his lack of choice in the matter. He looks at the double-headed spear Medkit hands him, the ends having been taken from his old swords, but they’re now the same teal his lights are. He takes it and steps back in order to spin it a few times, feeling the new weight in his hands. “Havin’ fun?’ He stops as Scythe speaks, “Now, I got one last thing before we get going, you need a name lil guy!”
Biograft looks at her confused, so she continues, “Well we can’t just keep callin' ya Biograft, you’ll get mixed up with the others! So let’s give you a real name-”
Before Scythe gets a chance to continue, Biograft interrupts, “I want Medkit to pick it.”
Scythe chuckles under her breath and the two of them look at Medkit expectantly. Medkit thinks to himself for a moment. Seeing as he should be named after his gear the first word to come to mind was jägerstock; however, that doesn’t run off the tongue particularly well. It’s also known as a hunting staff… “Hunter.”
Biograft, no, Hunter stares at him before nodding, “That is my name now,” he looks at Scythe, “Hunter.”
“Well then, since that’s settled, we oughta get goin,” She walks to the door, motioning for Hunter to follow her, “See ya round ‘Kit.”
Hunter looks at Medkit for a moment, having so much more to say, but only manages to get out, “Bye,” with an implied, ‘for now I hope,’ before leaving. Medkit returns a quick goodbye as Hunter walks through the door.
Being left alone, Medkit reflects. The remaking of Hunter's gear was a familiar process, it reminded him of just how much he missed his old work. Gods, he hated being a doctor. It was such a miserable thing. But he couldn’t just stop. Not when there are people to help. That’s why he lives, isn’t it? That’s why he has the abilities he does. Why his crystal is different from Subspace’s at least.
The two had carved tangible pieces of the Iphinity which solidified into the crystals they used for power. It asked them what they wanted. Subspace said to destroy, Medkit said to help. The equipment they used has long been destroyed and Medkit made sure to take his notes before leaving. It would take Subspace some time to figure out how to repair the machinery missing half the processes for such.
Subspace’s crystal was much better at holding and channeling energy, while Medkits was better for manipulating it. That was how he healed people, simply reversing their wounds. It’s how he’s able to revive them.
It helps people, but he hates it.
He hates it. He hates the panic of being too late. He hates the chance that there may be a day where he cares for those he could save no more than Subspace does his test subjects. He hates that he cares underneath it all. He hates that he knows that day has long been coming. He hates it. He hates it. He hates it.
But what he hates most, is that there are demons he can’t save, because he knows he’s one of them.
A couple days pass, Scythe training Hunter and teaching him the church’s ways. If it weren’t for The Father’s energy keeping him alive, he wouldn’t have followed any of the beliefs they were spoon feeding him. Though, he only took a couple to heart.
He doesn’t need sleep, but finds mild satisfaction in it, so he continues the habit. Today Scythe wakes him, seeming quite excited, “Get up! You got yer first mission today!” He gets up from his bed, leaving the mostly empty room and follows behind Scythe as they walk through the church's halls. “It’s a simple one, we’re gettin’ some gears for a dear patron of the church. It’ll be interesting seeing how ya do against a triple for your first kill, but I think you’ll do fine.”
Confused, he asks, ‘A triple? Please clarify.”
Scythe laughs, “A triple is a demon who’s gear has three main parts, instead of the usual one. They’re rare, ‘bout as rare as healers. Doubles, like me, are still pretty rare, but not as much as them. The one you’ll be goin’ after is named C.G. and wields a saber, rifle, and flag. We’ll be makin’ our way to Thieve’s Den.” Hunter nods, remaining quiet for a few seconds as he takes in the information.
“You said this would be my first kill. That is incorrect, unless you mean in the context of my working for the church.” Scythe stops in front of him and starts laughing.
She turns to face him, “Aw, bless your heart! You really think what you’ve done before counts?”
He looks at her confused, “Why wouldn’t it? Those demons are dead.”
She continues to laugh, Hunter unable to tell if it’s genuine or mockery. She takes a deep breath before staring him down, “Let me ask you somethin’, have you ever felt the weight of a life in your hands?” Before he can respond, she steps closer, “I know you’ve killed, but that wasn’t when you were living, that was when it was all you were meant for. All you were made for, because you were just a machine. Don’t misunderstand, you're still a machine, but you’re alone now. An individual that can think and feel fer itself, bearin’ the burdens of life. You haven’t killed like this.” She takes another step forward, “You have to take now, knowing you can be taken from just the same. You have a life now, you have something- well, someone, to loose. Still think you can kill the same?” Hunter finds himself unable to respond, tense. She grabs his shoulders, “Aw, you’ll be okay, there’ll be consequences if you can’t, but I know you it in you. Besides, family’s here to help, I’ll be watching your first couple missions, so don’t worry about anythin’ goin’ too wrong, alright?” Hunter hesitantly nods. Scythe lightly pats his shoulders before stepping away and the two of them leave the church.
“DAMN IT” Sucpace yells while throwing various supplies off one of his lab tables, glass shattering and various substances sprawling out on the floor. Hyperlaser observes his tantrum from afar. He had come to ask about the sudden drop in security, but found this instead.
“What the hell happened?” Whatever it was was definitely going to mean lots of work for him, so better to just get to the point.
“They got away! They- Medkit and that Biograft, they’re alive and they got away!” Subspace’s voice chokes up as he starts a coughing fit.
“A Biograft? Really?” That would explain the current state of things, but it was still hard to believe. Still not fully understanding, Hyperlaser asks a bit more forcefully, “What happened.”
Clearing his throat, “I had him cornered. Biograft was supposed to help, I had him. Medkit was right there in front of me, and that corrupted Biograft punched me off! Medkit’s bullet took a chunk of my side!” He motions dramatically to the injury. “Then they ran off!” he grips the table, about ready to throw it like he did with all the supplies which previously rested on it. “He took it! He broke him! He-”
Hyperlaser cuts him off before he could get too absorbed in his rant, “I assume you want me to retrieve him?”
Subspace pauses for a moment before grinning under his mask, seemingly a bit calmer, “No, no it’s fine, I’ll get back at him! I’ll just go back to the plan I had before! It’ll be perfect! I’ll take from him like he did to me!” As Subspace starts to laugh to himself, Hyperlazer decides that it’d be smart to leave. Subspace, not really noticing or caring about his exit, brings out an older set of files and starts writing on a nearby whiteboard.
All he has to do is kill Sword! That’s all! He’ll kill him, figure out some way of animating his corpse, and use him to get to dear ol’ Meddy! And once Meddy is dealt with, fixing that rogue robot is next on the list. How dare Medkit corrupt his son. There’s nothing wrong with Biograft, all his inventions are as flawless as he is! This one just needs some… correcting! With Meddy out of the way, it’ll be easy! But first things first, that son of a sword.
He arrives in a desolate grassland. There’s only one person other than him and Scythe. That’s the target, just a quick kill, then he’s done.
He arrives at a house. There’s only one demon inside. A Slow and painful death is what he deserves.
Hunter quietly approaches them, weapon ready in his hands.
Subspace begins flooding Sword’s house with a newer variation of his usual poison gas.
They stand and turn to face Hunter. They remain in a cold silence, waiting for the other to make a first move.
The Home’s air is suddenly chilling, but it takes Sword a while to notice something’s wrong. He hears his front door open and stands up. He sways and almost almost falls over going to see who just came in. He can't see much more than a tall figure, but there’s only one person who would walk into his home unannounced like this.
It’s hard to tell who swung first, but it didn’t matter considering neither of their attacks were hitting. Hunter still being unused to his weapon put him at a disadvantage. The demon he was fighting was weak, but knew how to use their gear in ways that made up for it. All it took to get them on the ground was a slight misstep and a smart calculation.
“Dad?”
“Go on, just make it quick.”
A sharp pain in his gut followed by laughter and a distorted voice, “Oh dear child, is that who the poison made you see?” he asks mockingly before continuing to laugh. He pulls the weapon out of him, watching as Sword falls to the ground. He says, “You both deserve this.” before stabbing him once again.
Hunter was caught off guard by the sudden surrender. The fight was a difficult one, but they were fighting. Perhaps there was something more he was missing, but he had to focus and get this over with.
As Sword lays bleeding out before him the air starts to feel tense, and not because of his poison. Without warning Subspace is suddenly thrown into a wall, it almost breaking from the impact. He coughs and takes a moment to regain himself before looking forward and seeing someone holding Sword.
And with one swift movement, it was.
They were gone.
They were gone, lying still, resting.
Scythe steps forward as Hunter stares at the body before him. For the first time since having the ability to feel, he felt nothing. Blank and void. Or perhaps he was feeling so much he just couldn’t feel it. Regardless, he was numb. Trapped. Scythe Picks up one of the gears, “Aw look, baby’s first kill!” She’s about to congratulate him, but without warning a familiar red rope wraps around him and steals him away. ‘SFoTH Damnit!” she huffs, picking up the gears and chasing after Hunter and his captor.
The rope around Hunter lets go as he finds himself next to Katana. ‘So you are the Biograft he mentioned.”
Hunter had questions, but they both knew it wasn’t long before Scythe found them, “My name is Hunter. Who told you about me?”
Katana sighed, “Hyperlaser.” Before Hunter asked anything more he asked, “Why? Why do you join them? They are corrupt. You are a hatchling young and blind. They are clipping you of wings you have yet to grow.”
“For someone I care about.” Biograft stands, readying his weapon.
A few moments pass, Katana processing his words, “I see. Then I shall cut you down as I would any of them.” He begins charging his weapon. Before either can move, Scythe steps in.
“Well, well, well, been a while hasn’t it?” Scythe smiles at Katana.
“Far too long. I'll see to it that your head is permanently severed from your body." He grimaces under his mask.
She chuckles "How violent! It's funny how some things never change." Scythe turns to Hunter, “We’ll leave for now, don’t need to drag the newbie into this! C’mon.” Scythe turns invisible, Hunter copies.
“Your corruption truly knows no bounds,” is the last thing they hear from Katana as they escape back to the church.
This was not good, not in the slightest. Sword was dead yes, but now his father was beating Subspace to a pulp. Venomshank knew he would outlive Sword, he always knew that. Relationships of any kind between gods and mortals never ended happily. But this wasn’t how Sword was supposed to die. This wasn’t when Sword was supposed to die. That boy had so much potential, and was such a kind soul, only to die like this. Venomshank should’ve been faster, he should’ve dropped what he was doing the second something felt off, should’ve trained him better, should’ve spent more time with him, should’ve… Should’ve better shown his care. Showed his love. Showed how Sword is and always will be a part of him. He should’ve actually followed through on his duty and promise to always be there for him.
But he’s already gone. The cause of his death almost gone too. Though Subspace is laying on the ground, coughing and wheezing, something’s wrong. He’s going to do something, but what?
It’s well known that when two phighters sacrifice their gear to the spawn, they obtain a biological child. The SFoTH deities being the exception. So what if one sacrificed their gear to god? A gear is attached to one’s soul, there’s plenty of worth in it. But is it enough for a blessing? Subspace had gone over the possibilities before, it was likely nothing would happen, especially considering the decay starting to corrupt his gear, but what else was there to do? He wasn’t going to just lie there and accept death, he was supposed to be making others do that! So in a last ditch effort, he calls to the only god he thought would respond and offers himself.
“ILLUMINA!!”
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