#cause i don’t wanna lose traction with them

[nellandvoid]

if i just do like a fun fact lore dump about silvia and diane would that satiate some appetites until i’m fully back?? cause i wanna spill more stuff about my loves but drawings isn’t happening yet

[daringyounggrayson]

whumptober day 4: pushed (AO3)

It’s raining. Normally, that’s a non-issue; Dick’s Nightwing suit is mostly waterproof, and his boots are designed to have excellent traction, even in less-than-ideal conditions. But this is pushing it. He’s on top of a moving train, his vision is limited due to the rain and his mask’s broken night vision, and his shoes are struggling to plant themselves firmly on the slippery train roof. And the rain is heavy, coming down in sheets, and the wind is howling, nearly knocking him over on more than one occasion—it’s the worst storm Bludhaven has had in years.

And then there’re the goons trying to knock him off the train. Now their fight has become a strange dance where Dick is trying to dodge blows while also making sure they don’t fall off in their attempts to kill him. The ridiculousness of trying to keep people who are trying to harm him safe is not lost on Dick.

If he could, he’d just stick trackers on them and call it a night, but that’s not an option—there are bombs hidden somewhere in the train and/or along its route. People could die.

A branch from a nearby tree falls onto the train, causing all three men to jump back, seeking cover. Dick nearly slips off again, and from their screams, he’s sure the other two do too. Dick is on his hands and knees, balancing there as he tries to figure out how to use this to his advantage. There’s an entrance a few cars ahead. If he’s quiet and stays out of their line of sight, they’ll probably assume he fell off the train. He could easily get past them and slip inside to stop the train and get everyone off before these two fools can even set off their bombs. Ideally, Dick would also find and disarm the bombs, but replacing a train and some of its tracks is something Dick can live with so long as no one gets hurt.

He lies down on his stomach, army crawling across the train’s roof, letting the branch block him from his enemies’ view. When he gets to the ladder, he slides his legs over the edge until his foot hits a rung. Then he leaps from one ladder to the next, catching the next rung with a tight grip. It would be faster to simply jump across the rooftops, but he needs to be as discrete as possible.

He’s nearly there—just a few yards left to go—when a gun goes off. He instinctively stills and covers his head, and a bullet bounces off the train several feet away from him. Normally, gunshots wouldn’t be a shock in this kind of scenario, but Dick’s already disarmed them, he—

He looks up to find a third partner. He’s just exited from the same place Dick was hoping to enter through, and he’s holding a gun with a shaking hand. Fantastic.

Dick moves like lightning—he charges the man and knocks the gun out of his hand before his trembling fingers can find the trigger.

“How many of your people are here right now?” Dick shouts above the wind, holding the man in a headlock.

“It doesn’t matter. it’s too late,” the man sneers. “You can’t stop us now.”

“That’s what they all say.” Dick swipes his legs and knocks him to the ground, pulling out handcuffs and attaching him to a nearby bar. “But you know what? I kind of like being underestimated.”

Dick stands, planning to walk back to the hatch and enter the train. He hasn’t even taken his first step when heavy footsteps charge toward him. Dick ducks just in time to avoid being body-slammed by one of the goons from the other train car, and the man stumbles, losing his balance and sliding along the length of the roof. He’s quick to get back up and charge Dick again, this time with raised fists and an animalistic screech.

“I’m kind of on a tight schedule here,” Dick calls as he engages in the fight. He really doesn’t have time for this; the train’s picking up speed.

A large gust of wind nearly knocks him over again, and his boots squeak as they try and fail to find traction. The thug lunges at him, tripping over his own feet but managing to land a weak hit against Dick’s shoulder.

It’s ridiculous that it’s enough to send him tipping over the edge.

He tries and fails to find his footing, only managing to slip backward further. He reflexively reaches out for the attacker’s hand, but he forces himself to retract; the odds of Dick pulling him down and killing him are higher than the odds of the man managing to hold their combined weight. As he falls over the edge, the tips of his fingers brush against the train car’s safety bar, but the rain prevents him from grasping it.

He hits the ground, tries to roll with the fall. The initial impact knocks the wind out of him, and he’s left gasping as sharp pain explodes over his head and back. When he finally stops, he’s covered in mud and blood, and every inch of him feels sore. It wasn’t a long fall, but it was fast and hard.

He pushes himself up on shaking elbows, watches as the blurry figures on the roof disappear into the train car. He’s not going to get back there; even if he had the time, even if he had super speed, he doesn’t think he can move. He needs help.

Dick presses his emergency beacon and calls Wally on his comms. He thinks he says something, but he must pass out, because next thing he knows, Wally’s tapping his cheek, begging him to wake up. He’s blurry, which doesn’t make sense, because Wally’s not running—the only thing moving is his hand, and it’s slow.

Instead of voicing his confusion, Dick vomits. Wally rolls him onto his side, talking too fast for Dick to understand.

In between gasps, Dick says, “The train. Bombs.” His voice sounds wrong to his own ears, slurred.

“You’re hurt,” Wally points out, hesitant. His hands are bloody. How did Wally get blood on his hands already?

“I don’t care—you have to save them!” Dick says, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes as the pain builds in his head. “Medical is on their way—go!”

oOo

Dick isn’t awake when the medical team arrives, but he does wake up, so he figures they did show up.

He raises his hand to rub at his eyes and finds an IV sticking out of it, stuck to his hand with clear tape. He turns his head, taking in the machines and monitors. He must be in the Watchtower’s ICU.

“Hey,” someone—Wally—whispers on the other side of the bed. “Are you awake?”

“Mmhmm,” Dick mumbles. He turns his head to face Wally, wincing. “Bombs?”

“I took care of it; no one got hurt,” Wally promises.

“Thanks.” Dick closes his eyes. The lights are dim, but they still feel too bright. “How long have I been out?”

“As in unconscious?” Wally sighs, and his chair creaks. “Well, uh, you were in a coma for almost three days. You woke up yesterday, but you’ve been pretty out of it. I’m honestly not confident that you’ll even remember this conversation.”

“Wanna bet?” Dick asks, a loopy smile crossing his face.

Wally laughs. “Sure, I could use ten dollars.”

“I’m going to remember.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I am.” This time Wally doesn’t protest, and Dick takes it as a win. After a moment, he asks, “I’m okay, though, right?”

“Oh sure. Spinal bruising and a brain hemorrhage have nothing on the Justice League’s medical technology and your stubbornness,” Wally says lightly. “What happened to you anyway?”

“Got pushed off a train,” Dick mumbles, words slurring together as he gets closer and closer to unconsciousness. “Probably landed head first on a rock.” He can barely remember the fight, barely remembers falling. Instead of a solid memory, it’s just a bunch of non-chronological snapshots.

“That tracks.” Wally shifts in his chair, and his fingers find their way to the back of Dick’s hand. “It was scary, finding you like that. I thought you were going to die.”

And Dick had told Wally to leave him anyway. He doesn’t regret doing it—someone has to make the hard calls—but he doesn’t envy Wally. “I’m fine,” he tries to reassure.

Wally’s voice is tight when he speaks. “Yeah, you’re going to be fine, because you’re you—but you weren’t fine. And you’re still not. Hell, you’re hooked up to a bunch of machines and you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

Dick opens his eyes and finds that Wally’s are shiny with unshed tears. “Wally.”

“Sorry, it’s just—” Wally shakes his head, wipes the back of his hand across his eyes. “Uh, can I get you anything? Last time I was here you were nauseous.”

“No, stomach’s fine, just tired.” He must be on a million drugs, too. He wonders how many he’ll have to add to his regimen because of this.

Wally nods, then looks down at his watch when it beeps. “I have to go—Watchtower duty. The rest of the original Titans said they were going to stop by later today, and Alfred and Bruce are outside waiting for me to finish, so you won’t be alone.”

Dick hums in acknowledgment. Then he says, “Thanks for coming, the other day and now.”

Wally leans in and hugs him gently, carefully. “Anytime. And take as much time as you need to heal. Seriously—the Titans will be okay without you for a while, even if Roy ends up leading.”

Dick laughs and nods into Wally’s shoulder, and then they let go. Wally leaves with a promise to be back soon, and Dick, determined to remember this conversation, reminds him to bring his ten dollars when he does.

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: None for this chapter!

A/N: Nothing major happens in this chapter, this is sorta just like the beginning stages.

(Y/n) let out a load groan, hand searching aimlessly for the alarm clock on her side table. “Where is it?!” she continued to slap her hand around on her table, many objects falling to the floor before her hand finally landed on the right one, the rooster noises ceasing as her hand collided with the big snooze button. She rolled over, sighing as she stared at her speckled ceiling. “Perhaps I really should take the time to learn how to use the alarm on my phone.” it wasn’t that she was bad with technology persay. It’s just if it was produced after the year of 2008 you could forget it. Could you really blame her though? During all her years at Hogwarts, she had never made the switch her fellow classmates made with modern technology. Sure she had a smart phone but the only thing she could manage to do with it is call, text, and make notes in the notes app (something she had just recently learned as well).

Unwillingly, she crawled out of bed, stretching as she let out a large yawn, bones snapping and cracking like a New Year’s firework. She made her way to the bathroom, looking into the same mirror she always did, watching the light in the center flicker the same way as always. Life for (Y/n) was seemingly unchanging. Day after day, month after month, was spent exactly the same. She’d wake up, get ready for work, and then travel a few blocks down the street to open the bakery. Her bakery.

It wasn’t that (Y/n) didn’t enjoy what she did. She happened to enjoy her job very much. All her friends at Hogwart’s had encouraged her, giving her the push she need to travel the journey of opening her own business. It was something she had always wanted to do but her parents begged her not to. In their words they didn’t want ‘an over zealous and unrealistic’ daughter on ther hands. However, their rude words simply were fuel to the fire. During her 5th year, she began to busk tables at various shops in Hogsmeade. It was hard work, balancing long shifts at 3 different shops and still maintaining decent scores in each class. But, she knew if she couldn’t handle that then there was no way she’d be able to handle running a bakery. So day in and day out she’d work, and work, and work and by the end of her 7th year she had a decent amount of money saved up! 

The first issue had been finding a place in a good area that would gain traction and attention while the second one was finding someone willing to sell to someone fresh out of school with no prior business experience. She’d spoken to many people in various different places, some good, and some bad before she finally had been blessed with the chance of meeting Mary and her wife Denise. It was a miracle really. (Y/n) was short on the money, exponentially so however, Mary had sold to her anyways. She said she saw a passion in the girl that she hadn’t seen for a very long time and that it was something she wanted to help foster considering she had had her time to live her dreams and explore passions of her own. So with that, a handshape was exchanged for a beat up envolope filled with the entirety of the girl’s life savings. She had invested every nickel and dime she had ever earned into the place and she prayed it wouldn’t blow up in her face.

Which brought her to where she was today: a proud owner of a highly successful business. And of course, with great business comes a nice chunk of money which caught her parents’ attention. They had began to call her everyday but when that they didn’t work, they showed up at her shop unannounced. At first, she had felt warm inside. Her usual cold and distant parents had come to visit her! However, when they started crunching out numbers and percentages, that short lived happiness was replaced by irritation in which she quickly kicked them out, placing a charm on the building that when they’d attempt to enter (if they really, truly, had the balls to come back), their bodies would be flung right back onto the sidewalk into the heaping piles of trash on the city side walks. Now, (Y/n) was by no means wealthy, but she made a nice amount of money to be engaging in something she enjoyed so heavily, which is why she was confused where they had gotten the idea she had money to share with the main two people who were the cause of her insecurities. Plus, every extra dollar she had she put right back into the shop. Paying her workers, building maintenance, ingredients. She wasn’t a fan of having too much money, her family had shown her what that could cause (and how easily you could lose it all). 

Yet still sometimes she found herself wishing she could live the lavish lifestyle her parents once did. She mainly dreamed more so of the more engaging parts instead of the status and power that came with it. As she frosted various different cakes with thick buttercream, her mind would wonder to vivid imagery of beautiful hotel rooms, with breath taking views. Michelin five star meals, coated in delicious cream sauces. Endless adventure waiting to be discovered.

And yet here she was, sitting at a table as she stuffed her face with a raspberry marzipan cupcake. It was a Wednesday, first one of the month and as per usual, her and Twyla were set together, sampling cakes, chocolates, and other treats for the upcoming days. Wednesday had been the official day  they had chosen due to the slowed flow of people that would come in. (Y/n) liked to have a different theme each day of the week. The customers lived for it and she had massed a group of frequenters who came each day, wondering what the theme would be that day.

“You know boss, I’ve gotta say it. Working here and sampling all these cakes with you is giving me quite the ass!” Twyla said, turning around as she wiggled her ass in the girl’s face for emphasis. (Y/n) giggled, rolling her eyes as she swatted at the girl, missing as she jumped away from her last minute. “Hey! You gotta take me out to dinner first for that.”

“Just because we’re sampling cakes doesn’t mean that the store is closed! Anyone could walk in at any moment and would you really want that to be their first experience here?” she asked, eyes scanning the silver platter in front of them. She decided on the new dessert flavored chocolates she had been working on. Popping it into her mouth, she let out a moan of approval.

“I mean, I dont’ see why not! We’d definitely make a lot more money with a cake like mine!” the blue haired girl said, sitting down as she grabbed a chocolate as well. “Besides, I don’t think those little noises you’re making would help the scene.” she stated, snickering as the girl across from her tensed up.

“It-it’s not like that! The chocolate- it just- I just- ugh!” she stuttered out, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest, pouting at the girl. “If you’re gonna keep being mean we can end this process. Just tell me what you think of the blueberry pie chocolate so I can know if we’re adding it to tomorrow’s spread.”

“Oh come on (Y/n) it’s good! Every first Wednesday we sit here, you overly critique yourself, then me and Tiana end up picking out our favorites for the next day!” Twyla was right, even their patterns for trying new things remained the same. (Y/n) wiped her messy hand on her aprons, sighing as she stood up to go back to her position behind the counter. Her employee followed, grabbing the platter to put back into the kitchen before joining her boss behind the counter.

“You’re right. I swear everyday is beginning to feel the same.” She opened her notepad, beginning to take inventory of the sweets they had in the display counter. “I’m grateful for everything I have, I really am. But sometimes I just wish I could have something, anything….”

“New?” the green eyed girl added, catching the (h/c) haired girl’s attention. She nodded, looking at the girl who had snuck a cookie out of the glass case. “I feel ya, girl. Everyday feels the same. Sometimes even when new people come in, I can already tell how they’re going to be. How they’ll act, what they’ll order, what method of payment they’ll use.” (Y/n) eyed the girl up, raising a brow.

“Are you sure you’re not just using legilimens?” she questioned, watching as the girl shifted on her feet, scratching the back of her neck.

“Okay so maybe I do sometimes. But a lot of the times I don’t! Like the other day this weird guy came in and- woah. (Y/n) I don’t wanna freak you out but I have a feeling those hotties in suits across the street are going to be walking in here soon.” Twyla said, in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. The shorter girl followed her friend’s gaze, looking out the glass doors across the street. Three unfamiliar men were crossing over, all in suits that she could only assume cost as much as four months of rent. However, the one in the middle really caught her eye.

Before she knew it, the bell chimed and the three of them made their way in. They looked very out of place in the brightly decorated shop. The one in the middle looked the most important, towering over the other two men. He had dark slicked back hair, an eyebrow piercing, and tattoos that were visible on his neck and hands (which had a few beautiful looking rings on them (none of which were a wedding band…)), yet his hazel eyes held a soft look to them. To his left was a redhead boy, freckles danced all along his face. His eyes were bloodshot from god knows what. He had tattoos as well (not as many as the middle man) and a few unique ear piercings. The guy to the hot tall guy’s right was attractive too but not nearly as serious looking as the other two. In fact, he was humming a song under his breath, a smile causing the tattoo on the right side of his face to crease. 

As she went to open her mouth to greet them, the man in the middle eye’s grew wide, his mouth gaping as he stared at her. He walked closer, examining her face closely which caused her to grow confused.

“I’m...I’m sorry. Do I know you?” she asked.

“(Y/n)?” she gasped at the sound of the familiar voice, her notepad and pen dropping from her hands. She made her way around the counter, staring up at the tall man.

“Neville?!”

NEXT||

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend @redpanda-poetry @vibingaesthetically

[blackmissfrizzle]

Just Right (3)

Part 2

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!plussized!reader

Chapter Summary: Someone throws a wrench in the plans.

Chapter Warning: Footbal AU. Don’t hate me please 😬 angst, implied smut, and some very petty behavior.

If you want to read more here’s my masterlist and you want to be notified when I post here’s my taglist

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

The next morning, you had a pep in your step. Angel left you in bed with breakfast and a note saying he went on a run.

Coming downstairs you heard Angel’s voice, you assumed he was on the phone and not talking to the devil herself.

“Adelita, this is a surprise.” Angel backed away from her when he heard your voice.

“Y/N,” she smiled and pulled you into a hug. Backing away she twirled your hair around your finger. “I see the drought is over. Who’s the lucky guy?” If Adelita wasn’t so damn conceited she would’ve smelled Angel on you. But of course, you wouldn’t be able to bag a guy like Angel.

Angel cleared his throat and stepped in between the two of you, grabbing onto Adelita’s hips. “Uhh, let’s leave Y/N alone. I’m sure she’s not the kiss and tell type.”

“Not around you.” She joked, patting Angel’s chest. “Once we’re done talking me and you can have some girl talk like old times. Just you’ll be the one sharing stories this time.”

The nerve. This is the second time in your life that you wanted to knock Adelita out. “Yeah sure.” You gave her a tight smile over your shoulder and went back to your room.

While walking you could hear the hushed whispers and the sounds of lips kissing. As soon as you knew you were out of sight you ran to your room and immediately started packing.

“What are you doing?” Right after Adelita left, Angel ran to you. “What does it look like Angel?”

Tugging your pants out of your hands, Angel stopped you. “You don’t have to leave.”

“And what?!” You screamed in his face. “Stay here with you and Adelita?!”

He tried to hug you, but you pushed him away. “You really must be crazy. How are you just gonna take her back?”

“She was my fiancée, she deserves the benefit of the doubt.” Angel explained like it was a one size fits all reason.

“Oh, the same fiancée that dumped you once your future was unsure.” You scrunched your face up. “The same fiancée that told you it was over through a letter? The same fiancée that was all over social media hanging out and partying while you were in rehab? The same fiancée that so happens to ‘coincidentally’ come back into your life after you just made the biggest comeback ever?” You brushed past him went out the door. “Yeah, you can miss me with that bullshit.”

Angel trailed behind you, hoping he could amend things with you. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Whipping around you shoved him. “Yeah, you are. You know honestly, I don’t feel bad for myself as much as I do for you. I pray to God that he never makes me as pathetic as you. Have a nice life, Angel Reyes.”

Opening the front door revealed a sympathetic Mr. Felipe and an angry EZ. They both tried to stop you, but you kissed each man goodbye promising to keep in touch.

EZ waited until he saw you drive away to attack his brother. “What the fuck did you do?” Angel blocked some of his brother’s punches, but EZ managed to get some in.

Felipe was able to pull his youngest off his eldest. “EZ that’s enough!”

“Nah, Pop! You saw her. She practically ran out in tears.”

“It’s none of your damn business, Ezekiel!” Angel tried to walk away from them, but Felipe stopped him. “Explain yourself, son.”

“Adelita.” Both his father and brother groaned at that name. Now they knew why you ran out like that.

EZ didn’t have time for whatever excuse that his brother had. “You two deserve each other. And I hope when you come to your senses it’s too late.” He slammed the door on the way out, too disgusted with Angel to stay.

A few moments later Felipe followed his son out. “Pop,” Angel cried out, hoping to gain some sort of sympathy. “Not right now, Angel.” He stopped at the door and looked back at his son. “Unlike your brother I hope it won’t be too late for you to come to your senses. When you stick your head out of your ass, you and Y/N are perfect for each other.”

Once he was alone, Angel sat on the staircase wondering if he made the right decision.

Losing Angel just wasn’t about your heart breaking, but also losing your best friend. Those months spent with him was probably the best time of your life. The only thing that got you through the days were work and Rio.

At first, he assured you that he could just be your friend but someway somehow, he wormed his way into something more. You told him that you didn’t want him as some rebound, but he cockily said, “Ain’t no way I’m a rebound.” So, you stayed and started dating him.

You were reading a book when Rio came and laid his head in your lap. “Mamaaaa,” he sung kissing the little bit of your exposed fupa. “What do you want?” He was only this adorable when he wanted something like that extra cookie that would mess up his diet. “Nothing extra. Just go to dinner with me.”

“That’s it?” You closed your book and set it down to look at him curiously. “Yeah, I got a dress picked out, hairstylist and makeup artist on the way.”

“Wait, what kind of dinner is this?” Dinners with Rio never required all the hoopla. “The league always hosts a dinner for all the teams in the semifinals.”

“I know, I know, I know,” Rio trampled over your words, not letting you get a word in. “I know that dumbass is gonna be there, but I think it would be the perfect place to show him what he’s missing out on.”

If you went this would be the first time you saw Angel and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that. Last time he made you look like a fool. “I don’t know Rio.”

Sitting up, Rio picked you up and sat you down in your lap. “But mama,” he attacked your neck with his lips, adding a little bite every now and then. “I’ll be bored without you. And who am I gonna shove in a closet and fuck her like a dirty girl?”

“You’ll be fine without me for a couple of hours.”

“Alright, time for the big guns.” Rio led you to his bedroom with a covered mannequin in the center. Unveiling the mannequin, he revealed the most beautiful dress. You would be crazy to not wear that dress.

“Ok, I’ll go!” Rio pulled you by your hips against him. “Good, I thought I would have to use my other negotiation methods.”

“Nah, I still need convincing.” Rio backed you into the bed and pulled off your shorts. “Okay, but you got 15 minutes to cum two times before the stylist gets here.”

Angel was doing his best at trying to keep his cool. Adelita was making her way through all the owners, sponsors, and players ‘networking’ to gain traction for her cause. It wasn’t that he didn’t support, actually he was very supportive of it, but this night was in celebration of him and the other players. And he couldn’t ask her to quit it without looking like a complete douchebag.

“Are you two seriously making bets?” Angel wasn’t paying that much attention to Coco and Gilly until they said Adelita’s name. They were betting on when she would corner their team owner, Miguel Galindo. “How else are we gonna pass the time? Ain’t like there’s scintillating conversation.” Coco collected money from Riz and put it in his breast pocket.

“Pendejo,” Angel ordered another drink and while waiting for it he heard Coco whistle. Turning around to see what made Coco speechless, Angel was glad that he already set his old glass on the bar top, because he would’ve dropped it. There you were in the most beautiful dress looking like a goddess, but his mood soured when he saw that it was Rio escorting you.

Bishop walked up beside him and smacked him in the back of the head. “Fucking dumbass. Now she’s with that asshole.” Angel opened his mouth to say something, but Bishop held up his hand. “I don’t wanna hear it. And you better leaver her alone, she looks happy.” His coach pointed his chin towards you and Rio kissing. Angel slammed back his drink and ordered another one. This was about to be a long night.

“I’m gonna go say hi to Bishop and the guys.” Rio looked for your friends and saw that Angel was right there next to them. “You sure? You want me to go with you?” It warmed your heart that Rio was so protective over you. It was unfamiliar territory for you. Usually, you were the one protecting others. “No, you stay here with your team, I’ll be okay.” Rio quirked his eyebrow, questioning you. He was trying to break you out of the habit of you masking your feelings, pretending you’re fine when you’re really not. “Rio, I promise. I’ll be good.” You patted his chest and started to walk away, but then he caught Angel staring at the two of you real hard and he couldn’t help but give him a show.

Spinning you around into his arms, Rio smashed his lips against yours. His still taste a little bit of yourself from when he wanted to make you his meal. Rio’s hands drifted to your ass and you did little to stop him. Ending the kiss, he tugged your bottom lip slowly releasing it and ending your connection. “Go say hi to your friends.” He whispered in your ear, fixing some of your lipstick that got under your lips.

Angel wanted to knock Rio the clean the fuck out. Who the fuck did he think he was practically dry humping you in public like that? “You better keep your mouth shut. You lost your privileges to be mad.” Coach Hank warned Angel as he saw you approach the group.

“Hey guys!” You were genuinely happy to see all of them. Since, you cut off contact with Angel you haven’t talked to any of them at all.

They all lined up to hug you, almost fighting each other to be the first one. But Angel waited his turn. He had a lot more to say than just hi.

It was a bit awkward at first. Neither one of you made the first move. Eventually, you threw yourself in his arms and you were almost a goner. You did not know that hugging him would bring back all those feelings you tried to bury deep down.

“You look beautiful.” He kept a hand around your wrist, his thumb stroking the inside of it. “Thank you.”

His eyes kept dipping to your dress. There were some cut out pieces revealing more skin than he cared for. “Where’s the rest of your dress?”

Snatching your wrist away, you crossed your arms over your chest to keep yourself from slapping the shit out of Angel. “Rio doesn’t seem to mind.”

Angel invaded your space and glared down at you. “Do I look like Rio?”

“Do I look like Adelita?”

Angel bit the inside of his cheek. He knew he had no reason to question you. You weren’t his, but damn it he wanted you to be.

“This was a mistake coming over here. Go back and talk to your fiancée.”

“She’s not my fiancée.”

Skrtt, you stopped your retreat. “Say what?”

“I said she’s not my fiancée.” Angel wasn’t able to explain further. Adelita finally came and graced you with her presence. She didn’t pay any attention to Angel. All her attention was on you. Adelita was actually pulling you away to talk to one of the other coaches about joining their staff.

This was almost as torturous as talking to Angel. Adelita barely let you get a word in. She was acting like she was your damn agent. Luckily, Rio came and saved the day.

“Where are we going?” You whispered as he pulled you into the hallway. “Don’t worry about it.” He jiggled each door until he found an unlocked door and pushed you through.

“Rio no,” you weakly protested clutching onto his tux. “What? You don’t wanna give daddy a little something something?” He pouted, knowing it was your weakness.

“Okay, but it has to be fast.” Rio kissed you some more knowing how turned you got by simply making out.

Due to your combined breaths getting heavier neither one of you heard the turning of the doorknob. It wasn’t until the light from the hallway shone on you and Rio, exposing your dirty deed.

“Oh shit, my bad dawg!” Angel lifted his head from Adelita’s neck and apologized to the other couple. He didn’t mean it all. Angel saw Rio lead you to the hallway and by the mischievous look he had on his face, he knew his opponent was up to no good.

The little smirk on Angel’s face told you that none of it was an accident. “It’s okay, I wasn’t feeling well anyway. I think we should go home.” You smirked back at Angel. He wasn’t the only one that can play games.

“C’mon Angel, they need to get home.” Adelita winked at you and led an unwilling Angel back to the party.

You were almost out until you got stopped by Mr. Galindo. He was the only team owner you hadn’t talked to that night.

With Miguel Galindo trying to convince you to join his staff and Adelita standing next to you patiently waiting for her chance, Angel and Rio were left alone with each other.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but stay the fuck away from Y/N. You’re no good for her.” Angel had to refrain from snatching up Rio as he laughed. “You got jokes man.” Rio stepped closer to him, they were basically nose to nose. “At least when I make her cry it’s from my dick and not from being a dickwad.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you kept watch on Rio and Angel. Those two couldn’t be alone without trying to fight in the first 30 seconds.

The scene before you was getting to be too much, but you couldn’t do anything without being disrespectful towards Miguel. Thankfully, Coco and Gilly were watching them too and were able to pull Angel away.

Somehow Miguel talked you into staying for the entire dinner. And because the universe loved you so much you and Rio were assigned to the same table as Angel and Adelita.

After Adelita formally introduced herself to him. And you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or not, but it seemed that she was flirting with Rio. Not that you had anything to worry about. Rio wasn’t entertaining her at all.

“She take my money when I’m in need. Yeah, she’s a trifling’ friend indeed.” As soon as you recognized the notes, you tried to stomp Rio’s foot, but he was too quick.

“Huh, what was that?” Adelita didn’t quite catch what Rio was saying. “Oh nothing, I just got a song stuck in my head.  Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger. But she ain’t messing’ with no broke bro.”

Angel had to admit to himself that was funny, but ain’t no way he’ll let Rio know that.

“Stop it!” You whispered in Rio’s ear. Even if Adelita was oblivious to him making fun of her, everyone else surrounding them wasn’t. “Now you know you always tell me that but we both know you don’t mean it hear or at home.” Heat crept up your face and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of Rio’s neck. Rio slightly turned to kiss your forehead while fingering the bracelet he got you.

Once the glint of the bracelet caught Adelita’s eye she snatched your wrist from Rio. You didn’t mind though because you and Rio were off in your own little world. Not even the harsh stare from Angel could tear your eyes away from Angel.

“Ouch! What the fuck, Angel?” Adelita rubbed at her ankle. “My bad.” He frowned as Rio smirked at him knowing full well he was the intended target.

As the night went on, Rio’s and Angel’s antics went up. You don’t know what you did, but you had two petty kings arguing over you. And at times it was funny but also stressful.

The little innuendos concerning you flew over Adelita’s head but everyone else was getting them. They were getting so vicious that Coco and Gilly started another bet on who would swing first.

The event was concluding when things got downright ugly. Angel once again voiced his concerns of Rio dating you. Rio had enough and went for the low blow. “You’re just mad because I already took your girl and I’m about to take your city and your ring.”

Coco and Gilly’s bet was long forgotten as Angel went for Rio. “Don’t be mad, Reyes. I’m just spitting facts. If I’m wanna keep it hunnid, if I threw the right amount of cash, I could have your other girl too.”

“RIO!” You scolded him trying to pull him away. Thank god, Adelita was nowhere near to hear that little bit.

“Nah, babe fuck that.” Rio shrugged you off of him and stood toe to toe to Angel. “You ain’t on top no more big dawg. Get use to it.”

Angel just shook his head and turned around like a wounded animal. “Coco, give Gilly his money.”

“What?” Coco asks too late because Angel threw the first punch at Rio. And once they started fighting it was hard to get them to stop. Even Gilly couldn’t hold Angel. It wasn’t until you did something that they stopped.

Bishop tried to stop you once he noticed what you were attempting to do, but you slipped right past him. The boys were in between blows giving you the perfect opportunity to step in the middle of them. As soon as you became an obstacle each man lowered their fist.

Angel actually started to cower some when he saw your face. This was like your training face but a thousand times worse. Rio never saw you this pissed and he was beginning to get scared to breath the wrong way. Either way both men knew to shut the hell up.

Facing Angel first, you shoved him in the chest. “Angel Ignacio Reyes, I know you were raised better than this.”

“I’m sorry.” Angel mumbled, his eyes downcasted.

“And you!” You faced Rio, pointing a finger in his face. “I’ll deal with you when we get home.”

“Next time leave your petty bullshit for the football field.” You told the both of them before heading out without even waiting for Rio. 

Damn, you knew you should’ve stayed your behind at home.

Tagging: @tashawar​ @ourlittlesecretsoveragain​ @starrynite7114​ @sambucky8​ @mygirlrenee​ @richonne4life​ @readsalot73​ @chaneajoyyy​ @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat​ @jassydwill11​ @otomefromtheheart​ @miss-nori85​ @xsweetdellzx​ @cocogodess15​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @angrythingstarlight​ @brattyfics​ @lovebennycolon​ @langiinspirations​ @chibsytelford​ @trulysuccubus​ @spookys-girl​ @sesamepancakes​ @literaturefeen​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @fvckthisbxtchup​ @theartisticqueen​ @vsfavs​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @angelreyesgirl​ @woahitslucyylu​ @marvelmaree​ @blessedboo​

[alovesthis]

All Things Must Pass - Dean Winchester CHAPTER THREE

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader Fic

Fic Summary: Reader, her sister Stevie and the Winchesters reunite after not seeing each other in a few years. Ever since Dean told her to leave him and his issues behind, reuniting wasn’t what you expected it would be like. Hunting, past feelings, memories and a life threatening situation that was placed upon Dean Winchester creates tension between you two and everything else.

Warnings: None? Angst. Minor violence?

Word Count: 2.3k

CHAPTER THREE

It’s nearing midnight and the four of you were splitting up. Sam and Stevie are walk around one corner with flashlights by their side, as you and Dean are stalking down the narrow alley. The concrete is wet and filled with puddles from the downpour from earlier. Everything is dark  except certain illuminated spots from a street lamp or two. Just an hour ago, you all figured out that it was just one vampire and it so happens to be a woman who had killed just two people. 

You start walking ahead of Dean and notice a large shadow behind a big dirty dumpster. 

“Dean, over here.” 

You hear his heavy footsteps approaching from behind you and suddenly his flashlight shines at the shadow ahead, revealing a puddle of blood. Reaching for your gun, you continue walking ahead of Dean, who’s whispering to you in protest. You ignore him peaking behind the dumpster and falling to your knees to help the struggling, on the verge of death, man that lies on the floor. 

“This case, the vamp is killed two vics so far?” You ask as you turn back to the man. “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” 

“Three now.” Dean furrows his brows at the man laying down. 

“No, he’s not gonna die.” Your hands stop at his neck, bloods pouring out. “It’s our job to save these people, just call a ambulance and then we’ll go.” 

“This son of a bitch kills two people… all of a sudden she keeps one alive?” 

“It could’ve been an accident. I mean, keeping him alive.” 

Your hands are covered in the mans blood as you keep pressure on the wound on his neck. He’s slowly passing out, and you’re beginning to panic. 

“Alright there’s too much blood, Dean. Call them, now.” 

Dean keeps the flashlight on you and the victim as he takes his phone out of his jacket pocket and begins to diall. 

“Don’t you worry. We’re getting help.” 

“Yeah, hi-” 

Dean’s voice comes to a stop. You hear a loud thud coming from behind you and looking his way, you call for him as you see him lying on ground beside the dumpster. There’s a dent in it from him being thrown into it with great force. His voice is hoarse as he groans in pain, his head lifting up to meet your concerned eyes. Without saying anything, the two of you are furrowing your brows in confusion trying figure out what the hell just happened. 

“Dean!” 

You and Dean both glancing up behind you to see Sam and Stevie calling his your name from the end of the alley. You’re sighing in relief and notice that none of you were hurt by the possible vampire that just threw Dean into the side of dumpster. Paying attention back to the victim, you notice that he’s now fully passed out. Your bloody covered fingers glide up to the side of his neck by his ear and pressy gently, waiting to feel a pulse. Once you feel the slight thumps pulsing against his skin, your eyes are shutting for just seconds in content that he might be okay and survive this. 

“We’re alright!” You call out to them. “Still gonna need that ambulance.” 

“Where the hell did that bitch go?” Dean asked. 

“Stevie, behind you!” 

Something pulls you back off the man on the ground, sending you flying and skidding across the concrete. Groaning in pain, you open your eyes to see a blonde woman hovering over you, her mouth opening wide revealing her fangs. Lifting up your right leg, you pull back and kick her hard off of you, causing her to land back on her knees. You feel a burning sensation on your knees and look down to see your light blue jeans have been shredded, covered with a little bit of your blood. 

Behind the vampire just a few feet away, Dean’s rolling up his jacket sleeves and taking the blade to his arm, slicing himself open, blood rushing down his arms. 

“You smell that?” He yells. “Come and get it!” 

“Dean, no!” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Come on...I smell good, don’t I?”

The blonde vampire smiles and snaps her head around, getting ready to pounce over to him. Standing up, you run over to the woman and wrap your arm around her neck trying to pull her back. She instantly elbows you in the stomach, causing you to lose your balance and let her gain some traction over your body. Once she grips you by the waist and makes you face Dean, he rases his arm to make sure she smells his blood. 

She stands there looking back and forth between the two of you, as she grips you tighter by the waist and moves your hair, licking the side of your neck. Your breathing becomes shallow, frightened that she might bite into you, turn you or even kill you. The blade! You remember it’s just behind your back in your jeans, but her grip on you makes it hard for you to reach behind without her noticing. 

“You want me, not her!” Dean shouts, dropping his blade. “Come on!” 

With just your luck, the blade in the back of your waist band drops to the floor before you could even reach for it and you’re cursing in anger. The vampire starts laughing while shoving you off, sending you gliding across the ground and into a puddle. Your eyes widen in horror watching the woman come close to Dean, her neck titled and right onto his neck. No.

 No, this isn’t time for him. He’s not supposed to die tonight, not like this. He can’t. 

Sam and Stevie’s voices echo through the alley and gets louder as they stand behind Dean in shock. Within seconds, you see him holding up his hand with the syringe, injecting her with the dead man’s blood. 

“Dean!” Sam yells, running to his brother. 

The vampire falls the ground and Dean starts breathing heavily, relieved that the vampire is knocked out on the ground. Sam and Stevie stand by him with questionable looks on their faces, pausing to make sure he’s alright. 

“What?” 

“Cutting it a little close, don’t ya think?” Sam asks as his eyes widen in confusion and a hint of panic.

“Ah,” his voice is still breathy, “that’s just chum in the water. Worked, didn’t it?” 

Stevie rolls her eyes and makes her way over to you and the guy on the floor. Squatting down she places a hand on your shoulder and checks for any bite marks. 

“You’re okay.”

You nod and tilt you head at the man. 

“I’ll call an ambulance now.” Stevie says and takes out her phone. 

Dean’s laughing and you stare him down as if he was acting like a mad man. He looks down at the vampire then at you. He catches your eyes and winces just a bit, feeling like he might’ve pissed you off or something. 

He’s picks up the blade from the ground and walks over to you, lending a hand. You’re cursing to yourself and to Dean, but he’s not noticing. You reach out to grab his empty hand and he helps you up. You’re gripping onto his jacket, pulling him into a tight hug. He freezes, but before he can even respond to the hug, you’re shoving him back slapping him in the chest with all your strength. 

“Do you want to die?” You ask. “Is that it? What the hell was that!” 

“Oh come on! I’m fine.”

“We’re supposed to be working together, watching each others backs. That was the complete opposite!” 

“She was going to bite you!” He yells back. “I did what I needed to do.” 

Dean steps forward but you inch back. You’re pissed, but now isn’t the time for another fight. 

“Look, let’s just fucking tie her up and get to the bottom of this shit. I’m wet, exhausted and just wanna kill some vamps!” 

The three of them are just standing there watching you as you curse, wiping your bloody hands on your jeans. Turning around from them, you’re bending down and hold your hand over the man’s chest man. Although he’s passed out, you whisper in assurance that he’ll get the help he needs. 

The brothers quickly grab the vampire and tie her arms together, as all of you start walking away further into the alley and to an abandoned motel not too far. As Dean and Sam are interrogating the vampire, Lucy, Stevie and you are outside on watch just in case anyone comes by and starts questioning the boys and what they’re doing inside the musty motel room. 

Just outside in the shivering upstate weather, it stays silent between you and Stevie. She’s casually smoking a cigarette which you constantly nag her about the day she was old enough to buy a pack. Rolling your eyes at the smell you’re moving off the wall, putting some distance between you and her. 

“Look,” Stevie begins, “I know you haven’t seen Dean since he kicked us to the curb, but what the hell was that back there? Getting mad at Dean. I know it was a dumb move by him to literally put his neck out in the open, but he’s a damn Winchester.” 

You’re not looking at her and she can tell you’re trying to avoid the topic. She flicks her cigarette to the ground, stomping her boot right on top of it and closes the distance you. 

She says your name, “I understand all the tension and not wanting to admit things. But is there something you’re not telling me?” 

Biting your lip in contemplation, you’re furrowing your brows as you stare at your sister. You’re not sure how to respond to any of that, not wanting to discuss the deal Dean made or the feelings you’ve been carrying for almost your entire life. But you can’t lie to Stevie. You never had to, or wanted to so now was no different. If everyone else but her was filled in on Dean’s problem, then why can’t Stevie? You’re all family, she should know. 

Shaking your head as you turn to her, your eyes start prickling with tears. 

“You know all about demons now, don’t you?”

“Yes, why?” Stevie perks up. 

“So then you know people, hunters make deals with them?” Stevie nods her head. “Turns out Dean made a deal not too long ago and his time is running out.” 

“So that’s why he let us stay with them?” 

You’re shrug in response. 

“Dick.” Stevie rolls her eyes. “What a dumbass.” You can tell she’s trying to mask her sadness with insults directed at Dean. He was always someone who looked out for her as if he had another younger sibling to watch out for. If you needed time alone, he would watch Stevie and Sam and make sure they weren’t getting themselves in trouble at school. 

“His time is running out, how long does he have?” 

“Sam said a year.” 

“When is that year up?” 

“I’m not sure, but I’m beginning to worry that it’s almost up. I can feel it even though I don’t want to.” 

Stevie wraps her arm around yours and leans her head on your shoulder. 

“We’re here...I stuck around because he told me he wanted to make things up to me, to us for pushing us away. I just feel like he’s only doing it because death’s about to knock on baby’s door.” 

Her head lifts off from your shoulder to stare at you. 

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You and me both know how he feels about you, Sam sees it too. Take it from Dean and don’t let this deal ruin anything. We’ll take it day by day and we’ll be there for them. Figure it out all together, like we used to.” 

You squeeze her arm and sigh in sadness. 

“Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you Stevie.”

The two of you hear noises coming from behind you and notice that the door is opening, catching your attention. Stevie and you detach and see Sam walking out of the door with a dejected expression playing on his face. 

“What went on in there?” You ask Sam as he walks out the door. 

“She got turned by vampire blood. Met a dude named Dixon back at some club.” 

“Let me guess, he spiked her drink?” Stevie asks and Sam nods. “Disgusting.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing.” 

“The job is rough Sam, you know that.” 

“I know.” He shrugs as Dean walks out. “I know.”

“What happened?” 

“She’s dead.” Dean responds as he walks pass everyone and to the impala. “We’re off to a club!” 

You turn back to Sam and Stevie in disbelief and scoff, “is he joking right now?”

Sam was filling you and your sister in about how Dean wasn’t joking about going to a club. It’s named Spider and it was where the woman said she was drugged by a man. And that’s who you were all on the look out for. Dixon, a possible leader of the nest he’s been creating, or trying to create and failing miserably. 

Tonight’s one of the longest nights you had in a while. The exhaustion is gnawing at your body just longing for sleep and a quick break. Everything on your mind is catching up to you, your anger about the deal and the pondering sadness about potentially losing him. Your mind is starting to take you to how Dean might be feeling about it himself too. Then it hits you. Dean has always been closed off, sometimes opening up to you in the past. But now? It’s different and your anxiety was beginning to soar even further than it was before.

-

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[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x reader (A/n- More smut cause I’m a hoe)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6 7  8  9  10  11

Warnings- SMUT/NSFW, angst 

Chapter 12- Why Wait For The Best When I Can Have You?

Chicago  Filming was back in full swing, and Y/n and Keanu had just slunk back into some semblance of normalcy. Things between them had grown comfortable again, the media hype from a couple weeks prior had just started to dwindle; the circulation of the pictures slowed while the rumors were starting to lose traction. The fact that they’d kept public appearances to a bare minimum; take out runs at most had helped too. And even when they’d landed in Chicago, via private jet, Y/n and Keanu had made sure to look extra platonic, space between them, no long stares and even getting into the car on different sides. 

But behind closed doors things were different. 

Once again, they'd settled, at least for a while, preferring to pretend that their relationship wasn't a mess as they enjoyed each other. They were both too stubborn to bring up their unresolved issues anyway, and whenever they hit a bump, it always seemed easier to bury the hurt beneath lust, easier to hurt in silence than heal together.

“You’re really gonna leave?” Y/n pouted playfully as Keanu slid out of the bed. Pushing up on her arms, she relaxed against the pillows shoved to the headboard, fiddling with the white sheets pulled up to barely guard her modesty as Y/n kept her eyes on him. Her lustrous gaze slowly roved the length of Keanu’s unclad form; skin dusted with light freckles barely responding to age, strong muscles prominent in his thighs and arms, though not excessively pronounced and the way ones his shoulders flexed when he stretched had her pulling her lower lip between her teeth. His nude being was perfectly enticing, and with him  in her bedroom, Y/n couldn’t even imagine wanting to be with another, far less one her age. Keanu was perfection, he was better than others his age, a fine specimen of a man. Everything about him, down to the slight limp in his gait was enough to have her rubbing her silky legs together.  “Don't you wanna stay over?”

“We have an early start tomorrow,” Keanu chuckled, not turning as he sifted through his haphazardly discarded clothes, picking things apart and presumably looking for his boxers, probably intent on showering back at his own suite. “And we both know what happens if I stay.”

Without responding and opting to try a new tactic, determined to get her way, Y/n huffed, a little too loudly for her despondence to be real, sliding down the pillows before flipping onto her stomach. In the process, the sheets shifted, by then leaving her mostly exposed as she propped herself on an elbow, reaching for the half empty wine glass on the nightstand. “Suit yourself,” bringing the remainder of red to her parted lips, Y/n crooked her legs, tangling them at the ankles, swaying them gently to draw Keanu’s attention when he turned. 

Her smooth legs were exposed enticingly and the sheets were gathered at her thighs, accounting for the gentle though pronounced slope of her ass. The dip at her back and the contour of her full breasts, accentuated by her stomach pressed into the mattress was more inviting than it should have been and as Keanu put a pause in his searching to turn and face Y/n, he fought the urge to caress her deliciously exposed skin, starting from the lowest point of her back, tips of his fingers feather light as he traced her spine, all the way up to her neck. Her sex-stirred hair was strewn over her shoulders and brushing her soft skin. He could shift that hair away, closing his fingers around the back of Y/n’s delicate neck, squeezing just enough to elicit a soft moan from plump, wine stained lips. 

To Keanu, she wasn’t just some young woman, a girl of twenty-two, Y/n was much, much more. A demi-goddess perhaps, who’s body he continuously wanted to explore. He reveled in the feel of her, all supple skin and with the sweetest tinge of new ripeness. He adored that her body was learning to mold his, that by then, they physically fit perfectly. Keanu adored what she was, and maybe it was selfish, but also what she gave him;

Because, despite everything, Y/n made him feel young again.

Whether they were together, bodies in unison or just laying, sated by each other’s presence, Keanu found it easy to feel as if a decade or two of his years had been knocked off. In those moments, he wasn’t fifty-something and worrying about the inevitable end, instead, he was thirty again, tasting the nectar of a pretty girl with fixated fascination on being tainted by someone too soon jaded.

As his eyes scanned her scantily covered body, Keanu found that that just the thought was enough to rouse a reaction and without much more reason, he was tossing his clothes to the floor, sauntering over and soon sitting on the bed next to Y/n. “I know what you’re doing,” his fingers quickly skimmed her back, soon enough reaching to move her hair away, leaning forward as he whispered huskily into her ear, “What if I told you it was working?”

Y/n groaned quietly when Keanu nipped her lobe, teasingly tugging on her stud earring as he continued to toy with the back of her neck, “I’d ask you what you were going to do about it.” Y/n took one final drag from the wine, reaching over to set the glass down as Keanu urged her into a sitting position, chuckling when she still guarded her modestly coyly, as if he hadn't had his face buried there just half hour earlier.

“Come ��ere and let me show you,” his words were lost on her lips as Keanu crawled into the bed and Y/n shifted to make room. Their lips moved perfectly in tandem and when Keanu was slouched against the cushioned headboard, he pulled Y/n to straddle his lap. Her thighs were stretched over his and the sheets slid down her body, revealing succulent breasts and gathering at their waists. At a frustratingly leisured pace, Y/n ground on Keanu’s hardened member, teasing him and swallowing up his groans, just as one of his hands journeyed the length of her side, palming her boob eagerly. His wet, aggressive kisses traveled downwards, his trimmed beard burning her skin pleasurably. 

Burying his face in her neck, as he ran his tongue up her pulse before nibbling on her soft skin, Keanu found that his scent had lingered on her skin from their earlier session. It was hot. Like he’d subliminally marked Y/n as his own, he’d stay on her skin, and in her mind, long after he’d left that room. She was his. 

Her breath caught when Keanu’s free hand slipped between their bodies, pointer and middle fingers taunting her cilt, the swollen nub craving more attention than offered. “Ke…..” she moaned, lacing her fingers in his hair, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, “More….”

“Patience,” he mumbled, feeling her wetness dribbling onto his cock,  awaking the instant urge to flip them over and drive Y/n into the mattress. But Keanu didn’t want that, not really, he was in the mood for something slightly different. “I wanna have you like this, right here in my lap, like a good girl.” Y/n whined pleadingly, rocking her hips impatiently, nails grazing his scalp and digging into his shoulders, physically holding herself back. “Can you do that?” He rubbed a little harder, his effect showing in the way her back arched, “Can you take care of me baby?”

“Yes,” Y/n hissed, barely hanging onto her senses enough to tease, “I thought you liked control.”

Chuckling quietly, Keanu slowed his fingers, causing her to groan despondently, “Oh sweetheart,” he peppered feverish kisses to skin, “I’m always in control.”

Y/n barely had a moment to laugh breathlessly before Keanu was removing his fingers, turning her in his lap so he’d be facing her back, pressing her to his chest, "Come on," he urged, sucking on the soft, warm skin behind her hair, "I want to be inside you.

Clumsily, Y/n shoved the sheets away, taking Keanu's girth in her small hand, the other pressed into his strong thigh as she lined him up with her entrance. "Uhh," Y/n's head lolled back lifelessly as he filled her to brim, stretching her tight walls as his swollen head reached her end. 

Her legs were spread wide, knees sunk into the bed and her hands steadied  herself on Keanu's knees as she rolled her hips slowly. Ordinarily, the position might have been comfortable; he was propped up by an elbow, though still trying to hold Y/n to him as he fondled her breasts, rolling pebbled nipples between his fingers, eliciting lewd sounds, mostly caught in her throat. Her hair fell messily over her shoulders, some of it in her face, exertion prompting strands to stick to her skin. 

From behind, Y/n painted the perfect image of sensuous beauty, all spread out in his lap, the curves of her waist defined and her skin almost glowing in the yellow light washing the room from above. Her movements were drawn on and languid, barely quickening upon Keanu’s request, and for a while, he let her carry on, enjoying the show. Though, as usual need for total control and the desire to have Y/n writhing under him eventually overtook, and in a few hustled movements he was changing their position, ending with Y/n face down at the foot of the bed, and him on top of her, his weight supported by an arm next to her head. “See what I told you?” His husky chuckle was hot on her ear as his hurried touch slid down to her hip, keeping her in place, “I’m always in control.”

A breathless noise, possibly a soft laugh, escaped Y/n’s agape lips, immediately morphing to a hollowed sound as Keanu reentered, his shaft buried deep in her drenched, longing heat. His trusts were rougher, more of what she was used to when they were together. After all, Keanu didn’t make love, you couldn’t make love to someone you didn’t love, he fucked. 

Y/n yelped between loud, broken breaths, clutching fistfuls of the stark white duvet in paled knuckles, her noises muffled by the fabric. Keanu’s deep grunts in her ear were enough to wean her to the cusp of gratification, “Keanu!” She sang his name, not caring who heard from where, desperate for impending release. 

“Do it,” he growled, carnal and gravely, “Milk my fucking cock with your tight little cunt.” And when Y/n came, walls convulsing, squeezing his length as she spilled out around him, eventually causing him to spurt bursts of release as he rode out both their highs. 

When he pulled out, Keanu rolled off of Y/n, immediately gathering her sated, limbless form in his arms. Heavy pants still dominated their drenched chests and though Y/n knew that they’d soon have to get out of bed for a shower, she could feel her eyes slipping shut, her body weighed down with everything they’d done that night. 

Her head laid over his heart, her mind soothed by the sound of it’s beating, slowly regularizing as quiet time passed. Keanu absently traced circles into her back, while Y/n just laid there, “Does this mean you’re staying?” She smirked.

“Darling,” he craned his head to kiss the crown of her head, not seeing how she closed her eyes in contentment, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

The next morning had come quickly, meeting Y/n wrapped up in Keanu’s arms, both awakening at the crack of dawn, lazily going through the motions of getting ready to get to set. Keanu had surprisingly suggested that they take the same car to the studio. It was probably just so he could feel her up in the back seat, but Y/n didn’t let the thought damper her mood, she was still basking in the high from the night before; he’d stayed. They showered together and then they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms and even if he hadn’t professed it, there was a renewed affection in Keanu’s grasp.

Even when they’d gone to work, there was an intangible closeness between them, shared in lingering looks and private smiles. For the first time in a while, Y/n felt good about being with him, it wasn’t burdensome or painful. Instead, it was light and free, she was happy to just walk beside him, to just exist in his orbit; that was what love was supposed to be. Fulfilling, hopeful and rejuvenating.

The desire to let the words slip by hung heavy on the tip of Y/n’s tongue, but she couldn’t risk where they were by pushing him. Thankfully, restraint came easier when Jackson yelled “Action,” for the first time early that morning. The cameras started rolling and Y/n submerged herself into the scene, letting her personal life scuttle to the back seat.

The scene was scripted to be intense, and had been one of the few that Y/n actually had to learn a bit of hand on hand and gun play for. Though, it wasn’t half as much as what was expected of Keanu, who seemed to be in his element right then and there. Action, it was what he knew, what he adored; the movement, the precision and the grace. Nearly thirty years in the business had equipped him with knowledge on a thing or two about expert foot play and choreographed fighting, so much so that he seemed almost fluid as he moved.

Out of the corner of her eye, as Y/n tried to keep her head above water and make it through the scene, she watched, but mostly admired, they way Keanu so easily navigated his way through the rehearsed fight, making it seem real even without the effects of editing and camera tricks. His form, his stance, his everything, was absolutely perfect.

Though, perfection could never account for human error.

And it didn’t matter how great you were, all it took was one misstep for things to go south. No one knew who’s fault it was when the whole thing unfolded in a flash. A couple of real strained grunts, maybe a shove that was a bit too rough, and finally, a swear word, erupting from where Keanu was standing.

Keanu’s screen partner, a young stuntman, stepped away immediately, sure as to not crowd him, but still kind enough to offer a hand to help him up. Before Jackson could even pierce the tension with the signatory “Cut!” Everyone before the cameras had broken character, panicked mummers running through them and worried expressions pinching faces. Cast mates quickly gathered around him and somehow, Y/n had managed to weave through the throng, getting closest to Keanu, just as he was using one hand to dust himself off, the other cradling a bloody gash at the side of his forehead.

Streaks of deep red streamed down the side of his face, probably clouding his visions and seeping past his lips, “What the fuck?” Y/n’s whisper was below her breath, just as she was reaching up to move his hand away, “We should get you to the medics,” a deep frown roused a prominent ‘v’ between her furrowed brows.

“It’s fine,” he tried to reassure her first, before raising a hand, urging everyone to get back to regularly scheduled programming, “I’m fine everyone.”

Scoffing, Y/n rolled her eyes at Keanu’s ever-existent modesty, still giving his wound some examination. It was deep, and because he’d been moving around so much, the blood showed no signs of slowing. “Come on,” with fingers enclosed around his bicep, Y/n urged him away, ignoring everything and everyone around them, intent on getting him checked by their small onsite medical team, “You might need stitches.”

The walk to the trailer, which housed medical supplies and a few nurses, was quiet and uneventful. Keanu had shaken off her grasp, opting to walk a couple international paces behind her, but as usual, Y/n had ignored it. She wasn’t trying to start a fight when he was bleeding all over himself. Even as they’d attended to him, an NP closing up the gash with a local numbing agent and about four or five stitches, Y/n had stayed, seated about three feet away, holding his jacket on her lap and eyeing him worriedly.

She’d never been good when it came to medical emergencies; blood freaked her out and illness made her uncomfortable. Worst yet, she was particularly squeamish at the gorier stuff. But somehow, seeing Keanu hurt had flipped a different switch, the blood didn’t make her want to run and his visible pain didn’t tighten her chest with fear, instead, she was overwhelmed with crushing worry. Y/n didn’t want Keanu to be hurt or uncomfortable, she wanted to take it away, see that he was okay and not leave his side until all was well. Y/n longed to take care of him, protect him.

When they was finished, the trio of nurses left, offering them some privacy and recommending that Keanu ice the area just around the bandaged cut, to combat any swelling. They even left a little blue ice pack out, along with paper towels for clean up. And the minute they had left, Y/n had reached for the pack before Keanu could, taking the initiative to stand between his knees, pressing it to his face gently, her warm, soothing touch on his cheek combating the coldness on his forehead

“You don’t need to do this,” Keanu protested quietly after a few minutes. “I’m serious Y/n,” he reared his head back .

“So am I,” she didn't look at him, continuing her ministrations, only stopping when he took hold of her wrist, pushing it away, “You’re hurt,” she pressed.

“I know,” he grumbled, avoiding her gaze, casting his whisky orbs up towards the stark white metal ceiling, “But I don’t need you to……” The words escaped him, or maybe he just didn’t want to say them, knowing he’d risk hurting her again.

But Y/n wouldn’t back down; he was fine before, and then, all of a sudden, Keanu seemed stand-offish, like her touch was poison and that he didn’t need her at all. Like they’d been back in Los Angeles. “Don’t need me to what?” They weren’t going to let it fly that time, not when he’d just stomped all over her mood when all she wanted to do was help him, care for him the way he’d deserved it.

“To…..” he sighed, shaking his head, “To smother me-”

“Smother you?” Y/n spat incredulously, “I’m smothering you?” She took a few steps backwards, “So I guess you’d just prefer that I not care at all, right?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Keanu sighed, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose, rolling his eyes as he lowered his stare to the closed door, “It’s just…...anyone could walk in here, you really want someone to see us like this?” Hastily, he gestured between him with his free hand, and Y/n could feel her anger bubbling, triumphing the hurt that came with his reluctance to be with her openly, "We talked about this."

Tears gathered in her eyes, stinging and threatening to spill over, "No, you talked about this!" She accused, shaking her head and roughly swiping at her eyes, "You made that decision. You're the one ashamed of me," the admission broke her inside. Keanu didn't want to be seen with her. He didn't want people knowing that she was the woman in his bed or the who he called first thing in the morning. He didn't want to claim her, kiss her in public or even hold her hand.

Perhaps he simply didn't want her.

"I am not ashamed of you," with quivering lips and bleary eyes, Y/n continued, the lump in her throat thick and persistent, the emotion caught there burning, "I don't care about what people say about us, what they think. I just care about you. I want you to be happy. I care about what you think. I love you!"

Three little words, they'd just found their way out, in an outburst driven by heartache. For a moment, the air seemed quiet and heavy, charged with possibility. He would either say it, or not. There were other options, of course, they were limitless, but right then, they were the only two that mattered.

Y/n held her breath, hope and expectation drying her tears for a solid minute. Keanu glanced at her with something she thought was comfortingly familiar, and he looked as if he were about to speak, tell Y/n what she was longing to hear.

Perhaps this was all he needed.

Perhaps he'd say it back.

But nothing came, and as quickly as the moment was ignited, it was snuffed out. And that was it, the little twig in her chest snapped, the sharp pain of unrequited love piercing her heart, its jagged edges excruciating and breath stealing.   "Y/n I-"

"Go to hell, Keanu," the tears were gone and suddenly, her stare was worryingly blank as Y/n tossed the ice pack to his chest, proceeding to turn on her heel and stalk out of the trailer, slamming the door behind her.

Her trained stoicism didn't hold up for much longer though, because by the time Y/n was secured in her own trailer, she was sobbing loudly, back pressed to the locked door and chest heaving heavily as she slid to the carpeted floor. Burying her face in her hands, barely noticing how her freed hair uncomfortably curtained her wet cheeks, Y/n resisted the urge to just scream.

Love wasn't like that. It was supposed to hurt or make you feel like you were dying with each breath. But it did, and still, despite everything, Y/n still wanted him, to love him, to be his. Though her heart felt like it had been wrenched out, she knew herself well enough to know that as always, she'd take him back if he wanted her to. She'd adore him in the privacy of her mind if  it meant keeping him in her arms.

Perhaps Keanu couldn't change.

Perhaps that love would be the death of her.

*******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews  @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​  @danceoftwowolves​

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @burninghoneyatdusk​ (she/her) What are you working on right now? Right now I’m prioritizing prompts for the Bellarke Writers for BLM Initiative, which is a mix of new prompts and requests for WIP updates. I just posted a chapter update of my fic Voices in the Water, which is a canon-verse/everyone is a grounder arranged marriage AU with a bit of a twist, and next I’m working on a new prompt. After that, I’ve got three chapters of All Because of You  requested. All Because of You is a modern AU with bellarke as *platonic* coparents. The story is told in alternating flashbacks and present day (every other chapter). The flashbacks focus on them growing closer during Clarke’s unplanned pregnancy and the present is seven years later, where they have to come to terms with their feelings for each other when Clarke gets engaged to someone else.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? I would love to publish a novel one day. For years I had a YA dystopian/time travel trilogy kind of planned but I poked too many holes in it and want to start from scratch in that regard. Another novel I want to write is one that covers three generations of women, looking at mother-daughter relationships, women in society, generational trauma… a lot of stuff. It was inspired by learning about my grandmother’s life more and thinking about how it impacted her relationship with my mother, and in turn my mother’s relationship with me.

For fanfiction, beyond my current prompts and WIPs, I have two other fics outlined. One is an AU inspired by the movie Plus One. The other is a soulmate AU that’s a bit dark and involves immortality, magic, and essentially Bellamy as a villain with a redemption arc.

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I think All Because of You will probably remain my most popular, but right now I’m most proud of Voices in the Water. More so than my other fics, it has a more concise plot and I’ve done a deeper dive into Clarke’s character as an Azgeda assassin and I think the reader really gets into her head more than my other multiple POV fics. It’s also my first canonverse fic and I’ve enjoyed diving into that world and expanding upon it where I want.

When did you first start writing fic? I didn’t start writing fic until the beginning of 2019. I first published in February 2019, which was Homesick (It’s a Bittersweet Feeling). It was my first fic and the only multichapter WIP that’s complete right now, so it’s a special story for me.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? I’ve mostly had only a positive experience with fanfic writing. With the exception of a couple stray comments, my readers have been gracious, kind, and most importantly, patient. But I guess it can be challenging when you self-impose pressure because you’re aware that people are waiting for you to publish so sometimes I rush things. I haven’t personally experienced this, but I think that fic writing can also be frustrating when readers feel like you owe them something or unnecessarily offer negative comments that aren’t at all constructive. Some people forget that people are publishing stories for free, in their spare time, often in addition to full-time jobs or school and parenting.

What are your top five songs right now? 1. castles (freya ridings) 2. maniac (conan gray) 3. fired up (grace carter) 4. I am not afraid (g flip) 5. wanna be (betty who)

What are your inspirations? (books, songs, other fic) I take inspiration from all of those things but I would say mostly quotes and random photos on tumblr. I wrote Homesick because I liked the step-siblings/forbidden trope and wanted to write in a small town setting like the one I grew up in. All Because of You was honestly the classic “this is my bedtime daydream story I think about every night” so it’s pretty self-indulgent with the tropes I wanted to use. Voices in the Water was started because I loved the grounder!Bellamy / arranged marriage trope. The wanheda twist came from me reading the 4x11 script to screen with Clarke trying to force herself to shoot Bellamy to save humanity, but realizing that she can’t.

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m not sure I remember a specific moment but I think I remember bellarke being all over my tumblr dash when I started s2 so kind of paying close attention to them during s2. s2 was of course a great season for them and by the ‘knocking on heaven’s door’ scene in 2x16 I was a goner.

Regarding what drew me to them, I think I’ve always loved a good slow burn with the partners/”I’ve got your back” vibe that they have. My first (and biggest) OTP before them was tony & ziva from NCIS which is a really similar vibe although a very different show.

Besides Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? I think that Memori is probably my second place ship. Before s7, I would say there was a HUGE gap between my love of Bellarke and Memori, but this season has made me an even bigger Memori fan. I have to say that while I don’t think there was ever a chance of Murven happening, I do understand why people ship it. I think they have great chemistry/a great dynamic and in another life, so to speak, I would have shipped them. 

Regarding characters on their own, I just love all my delinquents, but I think that Murphy is solidly my third favorite character. Raven and Octavia are probably tied behind him.

Why did you decide to start bellarkefic-for-blm? I credit the reason to Kara ( @queenemori ). (Sidenote: everyone go follow her! She’s an amazing fanfic writer and overall just a really positive, awesome person to have in the fandom). I remember reading her post  - and I won’t try to paraphrase, so please take the time to read her it - but in general it got me thinking about how we as a fandom could support the BLM movement in a substantial way that is more than just spreading posts on social media, and in a way that doesn’t lose momentum as time goes on and the movement becomes less “trendy.” I thought about how many people collectively read our fanfiction and how we provide it for free, and if people could just pay a few dollars or however much they can afford and donate that to the cause, we collectively could make a huge difference. So that’s what I’m hoping this is - making a substantial difference in a way that doesn’t fade in time and also uses the power of fandom in a useful way. We have a lot of power if we collectively put it towards something like this instead of fighting over ships or actors or whatnot. I also figured that maybe we’d have readers who weren’t paying attention to the movement and that maybe because they want to submit a prompt, they’d do some research on where to donate, and that in turn helps educate them on the issue - or is at least a start.

Has it been as successful as you’d hoped? So on the positive side, I do think it’s incredible that in about six weeks we’ve raised nearly $1250 and have been able to donate to a variety of organizations. I’m incredibly grateful for the authors donating their time and the enthusiastic readers participating. I don’t mean to sound negative at all, but if I’m being honest, I do feel a little frustration at the lack of participation across the fandom as a whole or maybe more specifically across the AO3 readers. I know that my WIP chapters average about 1k hits per update. That’s a lot of people. Even if you cut that in half because maybe people are rereading, that’s still 500 people. So why are only about 20 of my readers donating to this initiative? I think it’s a bit discouraging when you look at the percentage in that way. 

That’s not to say that I don’t understand that some aren’t financially in a position to donate, but I’ve made it clear that there are other ways to contribute (e.g. signing petitions, writing to politicians) and there hasn’t been traction with that either. So I think that in general, something is always better than nothing and it has in no way discouraged me from continuing this. But I’m hoping that more people are able to participate as time goes on. It’s truly a win-win situation of generating more fanfics for readers and donating to an important issue, so I hope to see the percentage of fanfiction readers submitting prompts increase and am doing what I can to continue spreading the word about it. 

I guess in summary what I’m saying is, I’m proud of what the fandom has done so far, but let’s step it up. We can do more, we can do better. Maybe people will get pissed I said that, but idk. If you read fic and can buy a $3 coffee, you can donate to this cause. It’s important. As was Kara’s point, let’s not see this momentum fade when the BLM movement becomes less ~trendy~.

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Instead of writing an essay about all the fics I love, I’d like to link both my bookmarked fics which is my complete list of bellarke fic recs.

I also want to recommend visiting the Bellarke Writers for BLM Initiative writers’ page - these writers are incredible so please go check out their existing works and continue requesting prompts for the BLM movement!

On the note of BLM, I'd also like to link this article. It's older, written in the aftermath of the Charleston attack, but it remains one of the most thought provoking pieces I've read on race in our country.

it was my honor to interview burninghoneyatdusk! honestly, if you aren’t reading Voices in the Water, which is Bellarke except Clarke is an assassin, you should be. it haunts me. she also organized the very cool bellarkefic-for-blm. 

[thebladeblaster]

Rebirth of the Samurai (Part 1)

Summary: This fic is a what if scenario to SMT4 Apocalypse. I would go into more detail, but I don’t want to spoil too much of what this fic entails. If this fic gains traction I may continue the story on from this one-shot. Warning: This is a long one.

This may be the last I write for awhile with college right around the corner. I won’t stop completely, but it will become a lot slower.

Two pairs of boots solemnly clattered down the road. The young men wore brown peasant garbs with ponchos. They both had fair skin. One had a brown ponytail and brown eyes. The other...had a black ponytail with striking green eyes. No sound came from the two except their boots. The air of silence was becoming overwhelming. They had failed...in their lifelong dream of becoming samurai before it ever even started. The brown haired man seemed the most shaken of the two. The black haired man was saddened definitely, but not quite to the same extent as his fellow. They were in what seemed to be a medieval city.

“Isscharr everything will work out. We might not have become samurai but...Uhh...things will get better.”, the black haired man tried to assure his friend, patting his back.

“...I can’t believe I have to go back to that accursed place! I don’t...I don’t want to be a farmer my whole life, Flynn…This...This was supposed to be our out...”, Ishacarr replied, in a disheartened tone.

“Hoy there.”, the two men stopped as a heavier man in baker’s garb ushered them over.

“I’m afraid we probably can’t afford to buy anything.”, Flynn said in a timid tone, rubbing the back of his head looking away.

“Oh no, it’s not that. Have you two by chance ever heard of literature?”, the baker asked them.

“I don’t believe so...have you Isscharr?”, Flynn asked, looking over to his fellow.

“No…”, Isscharr responded in a quiet tone only further concerning his fellow.

“Literature is very interesting, it's very different from the stories we know. They are about people in great turmoil. It has completely opened up my mind to the problems with society. As I read it I started to realize I have lived in darkness and ignorance up until now. It is adversity that develops a man’s character. After partaking in a sabbath and reading these books, I understand more fully...You see, Luxurors truly think little but their own convenience. Everyone speaks of equality, but that is a ruse we Casualries have been subjected to...”, the baker told them, pulling out the literature and placing it into Flynn’s hand.

The books read “No Longer Human” and “The Dancing Girl”.

“Ooh...but we can’t read.”, Flynn said as he looked down at the unassuming book shuffling awkwardly.

For some odd reason he felt a sudden chill down his spine as he held the literature. Ishacarr raised his head and looked up at the book.

“That is no issue you see by attending a sabbath you can gain the ability to read.”, the baker explained, making Flynn give him a skeptical look.

Isscharr’s eyes widened at the prospect, looking very interested. Flynn clicked his tongue as he felt that chill again. He placed the literature back in the baker’s hands.

“Sorry, but we’re not interested.”, Flynn replied, much to the baker and Isscharr’s shock.

Isscharr’s mouth was agape at Flynn’s response. His fellow wasn’t normally so assertive. “H-hoy don’t speak for me Flynn!”, Isscharr said.

“The sabbaths he mentioned sound extremely shady. The very idea that you can suddenly gain a skill that takes years of education is just ridiculous. Like a deal a demon would try to make with someone in a fairy tale. We’re leaving.”, Flynn replied sternly, very insistent on the last part.

Isscharr sweated nervously.

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Flynn?! Flynn can’t even say no to his mother!”, Isscharr thought.

Something felt different about Flynn the moment the literature was mentioned. It’s almost like he shifted into a completely different person. The change worried Isscharr. Flynn grabbed Isscharr’s hand pulling him away from the baker with surprising strength.

“W-wait! Stop Flynn! I wanna check it out! This may be a chance for us to be something more than just farmers!”, Isscharr said.

Flynn turned to Isscharr looking at him from the side. There was a strange edge that appeared in his eyes that made him jump. The feeling in Flynn continued to grow more powerful.

“Isscharr, we’re going!”, Flynn insisted.

“No! It might be easy for you to go back to Kiccigiorgi with a family that actually accepts you and doesn’t act like you're a nuisance! You can go back! But...I’m not going back there! Not to those people!”, Isscharr yelled as they started to cause a scene.

“Then where will you go?! Where will you live?! Like it or not Kiccigiorgi is our home!”, Flynn questioned.

“Anywhere else!”, Isscharr answered, making Flynn snicker at his fellow’s stubbornness.

“You can’t be serious...you’ll worry you’re parents.”, Flynn replied, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

“Why am I getting so heated like this? T-this isn’t me...what’s going on?”, Flynn thought, genuinely confused at his behavior.

He felt like he could hardly control himself. This feeling that crept inside him before felt like it was...consuming him. Something in his mind just tells him that he cannot let Isscharr attend a sabbath at any cost.

“I don’t care about those assholes!”, Issachar yelled, making their growing gasp.

Flynn visibly flinched upon hearing Issachar curse his parents.

“You may not, but I’m sure they care about you. I believe their only do hard on you because they care! I’m trying to bring you back because I care about you!”, Flynn replied which made Issachar scoff.

“So, you're taking their side? Just like everyone else! You think I’m weird too! A freak!”, Issachar accused.

“Don’t be childish! There’s no sides! You think I would stick by you for all these years if I thought you were a freak? You're just throwing a childish tantrum! Think Issachar think! Do you really believe you can just run off on your own and do who knows what? We have responsibilities!”, Flynn replied, back sounding far angrier than before at his fellow’s accusation.

Issachar snickered, pulling his arm out of Flynn’s grip and starting to walk away.

“Where are you going?!”, Flynn questioned, as the poor baker looked frantically between the two squabbling fellows not expecting such a fight to break out.

“You might be content being some obedient servant your whole life Flynn. But I’m not! Pfft! A mama’s boy like you probably wouldn’t have made it as a samurai anyway...You're better off returning alone!”, Issachar replied with venom making Flynn shake.

Flynn gripped his fist so tightly they nearly bled. They shook like crazy as Flynn looked down at them.

“Why the heck did I say all of that? What am I supposed to do now?”, Flynn thought, looking back to Issachar’s retreating form.

Flynn prepared to run after his fellow.

“Don’t bother following me! Go home like you obviously want to!”, Issachar replied harshly.

Flynn froze, putting a hand over his heart which felt pierced by his fellow’s words. That hand formed a fist which shook again.

“H-hoy!”, the baker called out nervously, but he was completely ignored by the two fellows who walked off in opposite directions.

The crowd scurried away as Flynn and Issachar walked through. Flynn's eyes were shadowed and he gritted his teeth. Issachar’s gaze briefly drifted over his fellow whose head was lowered he could tell was hurt even from far away. He jerked his gaze away from Flynn not wanting to turn back from his chance to become somebody.

After Flynn got far enough away he collapsed against a wall lowering his gaze further. Men in blue uniforms patrolling the streets looked over to him thinking he was drunk. He flinched as another strange feeling struck him, but it was different from before.

“You alright there sir? It’s a bit too early to be drinking isn’t it?”, the blue uniformed man said.

When he got closer they noticed tears dripping from Flynn’s eyes.

“...I’m not drunk…”, Flynn said, sadness evident in his voice.

Flynn picked himself off the wall and strode past the man. As if to make his situation worse his head was throbbing for some indiscernible reason. The feeling that suddenly struck him only worsened his headache. He continued walking, not knowing where he was going. It was most certainly not back home. Not without Issachar. He thinks maybe they just need space for now. When he got himself back together he would find Issachar and drag him back home. Flynn felt even more miserable when another feeling struck him again. He felt his mind getting increasingly hazy.

“Why is Issachar so stubborn?! Why won’t he let me save him!”, Flynn thought, raising his eyebrow afterward completely puzzled by his own thoughts.

“Save him? What am I talking about?”, he thought.

The pain in his head only increased, making him wince.

“Some people are just too stubborn to deter away from their own folly. You of all people should know that...but together we can save them all. We can save all of mankind.”, a voice said, causing Flynn to stumble.

Who was that? Was he imagining that voice right now or? Flynn looked around for the source of the voice he heard only to find nothing, but people going about their business.

Even as Issachar continued on and found out the location and time of the sabbath from the baker he couldn’t help but think about Flynn. How bizarrely he acted and how he left him. He had this feeling he really shouldn’t leave Flynn alone like this in the ‘condition’ he’s in. It felt like something more was happening to Flynn and he had to save him from...something? What was he saving him from? Being a doormat? But, still Issachar could not drop this intense feeling of dread. Like he may lose Flynn forever...he was just being silly! He had to be. He didn’t know why his thoughts were being so melodramatic.

The sabbath was to be held at midnight. He’d have to be careful due to the country’s curfew. Just another way the Luxurors controlled the Casualries. Issachar was determined to break that control. Perhaps this was what he was meant to do? The leash of control even controlled his best friend to the point he’d snap at him like he had before. He walked into an unassuming carpentry store.

“I’m here for the sabbath.”, Issachar said as the carpenter looked him over.

He led Issachar over to a carpet which slipped away to reveal a secret room. He steeled himself as he walked into the darkness of the room. It was much bigger than he expected. It was packed to the brim with people. Issachar looked in wonder seeing mystic relic lights all over the place. There was also strange demonic statues. Some people were engrossed in the literature, trading books or...Issachar blushed intensely as he looked away at what some others were doing especially on the statues.

“Is this your first time?”, a feminine voice asked.

Issachar turned to the source of the voice nearly jumping when he saw the source. It was a woman covered head to toe in strange black and red armor with eerie red eyes.

“Who are you?”, Issachar asked.

“I am the one people call the black samurai. I am the one who has been distributing literature all over the kingdom.”, the black samurai introduced.

“I see uh…”, Issachar said, looking over briefly before turning his gaze back to the black samurai still flustered.

“It’s not like anything you’ve seen right? That’s why you’re so shocked at what you're seeing here? Everyone is like that at first. These sabbaths are about the spreading of knowledge and breaking free from the strict norms of the kingdom.”, the black samurai said.

“Yeah, definitely...this is all just shocking. I heard that I could learn how to read here. Is that true?”, Issachar asked.

“That...and much more.”, the black samurai said in a seductive voice which made him nervous.

The strange woman led him to where a few people in luxurious clothes were tied up.

“Are those Luxurors? What are you going to do with them?”, Issachar asked.

“Their going to be sacrifices.”, the black samurai said in an abnormally casual tone which made Issachar pale.

Flynn rubbed his temples again as he tried to get to where he heard the sabbath was being held. Combined with the samurai patrolling the streets and his roaring headache getting there was proving difficult for him. But, he would persevere! This was for Issachar! He had to get him back even if it landed him in trouble with the authorities. By the time Flynn made it to the store he was breathing heavily. He looked around the store for wherever the sabbath was being held. He found it bizarre how strangely empty the store was despite the fact a sabbath was apparently being held there. Flynn left no stone unturned as he checked the store. He flinched as he could faintly hear a muffled scream. He ran over to the direction where he heard it throwing off the rug and revealing the secret door. Flynn sweated nervously as he could now better hear screams coming from down below despite that Flynn descended without hesitation.

Blood dripped from the hand now claws of that black samurai who had now revealed her true form as a black vine like demon in a feminine shape. She had a white face and chest along with horns and wings along with a long pointy tail. Her feet were little pincers.

The Luxurors laid dead at her feet while Issachar was still frozen in shock.

“It’s not a true sabbath without blood and we demons love blood. Now, it’s time for you all to become demons!”, the black samurai declared, frightening many in there and garnering confused murmurs.

“Flynn was right! It was a demon deal!”, Issachar thought as the black samurai held out a book to him.

“You can read now. Take full advantage of the knowledge you gain to tear this kingdom asunder!”, as she said that many of those attending’s bodies shifted and morphed in a horrifying manner.

The sounds of their transformations were blood curdling. Issachar trembled as he looked down at the book, briefly cracking it open to see if the words she spoke were true. They were indeed. Issachar could now read at the sacrifice of another’s life...he tried to control his shaking as this all sank into him.

“Don’t feel remorse towards your oppressors. They don’t deserve it now...you can take your destiny into your own hands.”, the black samurai said.

Issachar stil trembling nodded as he started to read the book starting from the beginning. The more he read the more sense her words and the bakers made to him! He could shape his own destiny! He could destroy their tyrannical system and create a truly free world! Bile started to rise up from within him.

“Issachar!”, Flynn called out his voice full of worry.

His friend’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. He looked over to Flynn who looked beyond worried for him especially as he saw the room was full of demons. He was about to call out his name when everything suddenly went black…Snap!

Flynn was speechless when Issachar’s neck shifted unnaturally and he heard a loud snap. With it Issachar’s body went limp...Flynn’s breathing got heavier as his vision was clouded in red. Something within Flynn snapped as well.

“Those worms are far beneath you, destroy every single one of them...kalki then we can lead them to their salvation.”, the voice said in Flynn’s mind.

The black samurai froze when she felt an aura of supreme blood lust coming off of Flynn along with magical power far exceeding master samurai. The other demons quickly turned their attention to Flynn noticing it as well. They gasped as Flynn seem to disappear only for blood to splatter on the wall and a cluster of limp demon bodies. The rest backed away from the man nervously. Flynn held a broken broom in his hand he had gotten from the wall using it as a makeshift blade. It dripped with the blood of their fellow demons.

“C-come on! He’s just one human and we’re all demons! He doesn’t stand a chance!”, a bulky demon with red skin and sharp teeth said.

However, he completely lost the will to fight when Flynn turned to him. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. All his demon instincts yelled at him to run.

“Fall.”, Flynn said, in a much deeper and menacing tone.

He seemed to disappear again as fire suddenly completely engulfed the red demon. Others shrieked away in fear and some charged at Flynn. However they never stood a chance. He easily evaded their attacks and struck them with various elemental magics they were weak to. The black samurai was completely stunned not expecting any of this. All she knew is that she had to stop Flynn before he killed her too. By the time she broke out of her surprise most of the demons had been completely decimated leaving only a few fearfully hiding. She couldn’t help but flinch when Flynn turned to her as primal fear creeped up inside her. She shot a Maziodyne at Flynn only for her to let out a pained gasp as his hand clamped around her throat. His eyes were filled with unbridled hatred and anger. Something she’d be glad to see especially in such a powerful individual if it wasn’t leading to her own demise. She wondered if this was Gabriel’s doing. No...it had to be someone much more powerful. Before she could finish her though she paled as she felt the highest tier almighty spell charging up, Antichthon. She had no idea how he knew such a powerful spell, something no one in Mikado should know. Either this was the doing of an angel more powerful than Gabriel or that man won the lottery and shifted into a demon far stronger than even the archangels. A devilish smirk formed on Flynn’s face as he saw the fear in her eyes. She hastily tried to claw out the man’s throat before she was completely vaporized. However she couldn’t…

Issachar gasped as he looked around, suddenly regaining consciousness. He was sure he had died after all his neck snapped somehow. He looked extremely fearful as the first sight that greeted him was his best friend covered in blood and grinning like a madman. He paled when Flynn started laughing, noticing he didn’t sound like himself at all. His voice was distorted much deeper than normal. He noticed Flynn’s normal green in his eyes was now replaced with an unnatural glowing golden.

“He’s been possessed.”, was the first thought to cross Issachar’s mind.

Everything started to make sense now...Flynn’s strange behavior before...that odd feeling he had...oh no, something has taken over his best friend! He remembered how hurt Flynn looked before he left saddened and confused. Had Flynn not been in control of himself then either? It made sense considering how out of character he was. He trembled as an immense power radiated off Flynn and he was engulfed in a white light which shook the entire building. Issachar covered his eyes before desperately calling out his Flynn’s name.

When the light cleared what stood was a taller being with armor-like ebony skin. Bits of gold lined it’s body and it was adored with a fancy ebony robe on his lower half lined with gold more lavish than that of any Luxurors he knew. It had a long black cape which fluttered despite the lack of wind. It wore some sort of strange head piece unlike anything Issachar had ever seen keeping the same theme as the rest of its body. In its hand was some odd pink flower which he had never seen before either. He had an impressive physique that put any samurai he had seen to shame. The whites of its eyes were red and its eyes were gold along with the bottom part of its eyes. He recognized the hair as Flynn’s though it was now draping down his shoulders.

“Flynn?”, Issachar questioned, barely able to form words.

He could feel the presence before him was much greater than anything he’s ever felt in his life. It felt godly. It was very terrifying, but also made you want to bow before it and worship it. It felt extremely dominating...this thing wasn’t Flynn it was something else which had taken him over. He tried to calm his shaking when his attention fell unto himself. The sinister smirk on his face lessened a bit, becoming something more human.

“Issachar...We will save you all.”, he said in a deep godly voice sounding like he was in a trace.

“Hoy Flynn! Snap out of it! This isn’t you!”, Issachar called out.

The smirk didn’t leave the strange being face as he looked down at him.

“Flynn is mine.”, the being said with Flynn’s distorted voice.

Those three simple words made Issachar shake. They confirmed his fear that something truly had taken over Flynn. Despite his fear Issachar found the strength to stand before the almighty being. Even when he was upset at him and the horrible things he said to him Flynn still ran to help him without hesitation.

“L-let him go, you demon! Flynn you're the kindest person I know and your loving parents...No everyone is waiting for you to come back to Kiccigiorgi! You can’t let this monster swallow you up!”, Issachar called out to his best friend desperately.

The being fidgeted slightly as if Flynn heard him, but quickly returned to its former demeanor.

“I am no lowly demon. I am a god, one who shall save all of humanity from its vile creator. I will bring salvation even to a lowly undead being like yourself.”, the being said, making him angry.

Issachar was struck by his words and a horrible realization fell upon him. He had died and turned into a zombie.

“Salvation my ass! All you have done is made my friend kill all these people! We don’t need or asked for your salvation and Flynn doesn’t want it either!”, Issachar yelled.

He heard a low growl from the being which sounded like roaring thunder. He shook, but stood his ground as anger radiated off the being.

“I am what’s best for him. He must give in to me completely and he will be saved.”, the being replied.

That statement implied for Issachar that Flynn was still in there. He hasn’t completely given in to this thing yet. Anger bubbled up inside Issachar at the being’s arrogant words.

“It just sounds like you want to control him! You're no different from the Luxurors who have been trying to control us our whole lives thinking ‘you’ know what’s best for us! Something like you has no idea what’s best for us! Now, let go of my friend demon!”, Issachar yelled, throwing a punch at the being.

When the blow impacted the being it didn’t even flinch. Though there was a loud crack of Issachar’s bones snapping as his arm bent in an unnatural angle. Issachar saw something flicker in the being’s eyes, concern. The being fidgeted again growling lowly.

“Flynn, stubborn man!”, the being growled in annoyance as it twitched, losing control as its hand reached out for Issachar.

Strong arms wrapped around Issachar protectively. Flynn’s concerned gaze lowered down to his broken arm. Flynn lifted up the strange flower and a pink light emitted from it completely healing his wounds. Issachar rubbed his now healed arm which was good as new.

“Don’t waste your effort! He will only be saved after we create our new world, kalki!”, the being said from Flynn’s lips.

“Shut up! I will never create your world and I will never be your godslayer! Now, get out Krishna!”, Flynn growled.

They stumbled back from Issachar making him reach out to them. Flynn grabbed his head as he struggled to regain control over his body.

“Hoy Flynn, don’t lose to him! You have to beat him!”, Issachar yelled.

Light engulfed Flynn’s body again as he returned to normal and fainted. Issachar caught Flynn before he could hit the ground and held him close to him. He hurriedly ran out of the building and scurried away to the road outside of the capital leading to Kiccigiorgi. He slashed at all the samurai who jumped in to stop him with his claws and escaping. Flynn was still unconscious over his shoulder. Issachar didn’t stop running even as he felt like his legs were decomposing from all the running. The sun felt like it was trying to purify his unholy body. It burned like crazy and he panted heavily. He could see it himself but the whites of his eyes were blood red. He could no longer feel the presence from before inside Flynn; he seemed to have completely returned to his natural human self. He even smelled human. Perhaps because it was possession Flynn was able to turn back? Why he wasn’t stuck like him, who had briefly embraced the demonic and transformed? He just hoped that thing was gone from Flynn, Krishina as he called it. Morning dawned by the time they made it back to Kiccigiorgi. He had put some water from lake Mikado on their clothes to wash the blood off them.

Flynn stirred as he started to regain consciousness. He looked around to see he was now back in Kiccigiorgi draped onto Issachar’s shoulder. He blinked repeatedly and his mind felt slurry. His green eyes seemed cloudy though as he blinked the cloudiness left.

“Hoy Flynn, are you alright?”, Issachar asked.

“W-what happened? When did we get back? I remember we had a fight and I was acting strange then everything gets blurry from there…”, Flynn said in his normally timid tone, he put his hand on his temple.

“You can’t remember Flynn? You don’t remember the sabbath?”, Issachar asked.

“Sabbath? We went to the sabbath?”, Flynn questioned with confusion and concern.

Issachar was stunned that Flynn really didn’t remember anything that happened. It must have been a side effect of his possession by Krishina. His eyes had returned to normal as a fellow villager walked over to them.

“Looks like you two didn’t get to become samurai. Hoy Flynn are you alright over there?”, the woman asked, noticing him leaning on Issachar.

“I-I’m fine. My head just feels so loopy I can just sleep it off later.”, Flynn replied.

“You don’t seriously intend to work in your condition do you?”, Issachar questioned.

[zhydoesart]

Meeko

First Previous

trigger warnings: falling out of a tree, broken bones, minor injury, brief mention of blood, brief mention of knives

Relationships: very background romantic LAMP, familial DRLAMP, familial Dukeceit/Demus

Word count: 2K

AO3

Summary: Remus hears a sound in a tree and makes a few bad decisions.

“Come on, come on, I wanna climb the tree!” Remus races outside, and when Janus isn’t immediately right behind him, he starts whining. “Come on, Jan!” Janus shakes his head at his brother. Remus has been trying to climb the tree in their backyard for days, but he can never get any traction. Still, he drags Janus behind him every time so he can watch when Remus finally manages to reach one of the branches, which are all far above his head.

“Try not to fall, okay?” Janus warns him. “Last time, vati and baba got super mad.”

Remus stops trying to climb the tree for a moment to smirk at Janus. “Aw, you care about me. You don’t want me to get hurt.” Janus rolls his eyes.

“Hhng.” Remus grunts. “Why can’t I ever do this?”

“You need to face facts, Rem, you’re just too short.” Remus whips his head around to glare at Janus, who shrugs nonchalantly. “You might need to wait until you’ve grown a little.” They’re the same age, Janus being only months older than Remus, but that doesn’t stop him from treating Remus like his little brother.

Remus growls. “But I wanna sit in the tree.” He pouts, and Janus can’t help but feel a little bad for him. He ruffles Remus’ hair, but Remus doesn’t seem all that comforted.

Remus straightens up. “Wait, what was that?”

Janus hadn’t noticed anything. “What was wh—” Janus gets cut off suddenly as Remus holds a finger up to his lips.

“Shhh.” His eyes are narrowed in concentration, and Janus listens.

Meow!

Huh, there it is. There was a noise the first time that Janus had missed.

“There’s a cat stuck in the tree, Jan!” Remus turns to look at him, eyes wide.

“How do we know it’s in the tree?” Janus asks skeptically.

The cat meows again, and Remus points. “See? The sound is coming from above us! The only thing there is this stupid tree!” He gets a look on his face, one that Janus doesn’t like nor trust in the slightest, and he recalls with clarity the incident that occurred the last time Remus had that expression.

“Well, Remus—” he starts to say, but Remus isn’t listening to a single word he’s saying.

“We have to rescue it!” Of course. Remus scrabbles at the trunk of the tree, trying to get a hold, and Janus winces. He’s inevitably going to rip his fingernails doing that.

“What if it doesn’t need help?” suggests Janus. “Maybe it got up there in that tree by itself and it can get down whenever it wants to all on its own.”

“No! Listen to him! He sounds panicked! I have to help him.” Remus does have a point. The cat’s meowing does sound as if it’s bordering on frantic, but—

“He? Since when did we know the gender of this cat?

Remus ignores him, instead heaving a huge sigh as he stops his failed attempts at scaling the tree trunk like a gecko. It’s like he’s actually given up, but if Janus knows one thing about Remus, it’s that Remus is the most stubborn person Janus knows, and he doesn’t give up this quickly.

“Do you… need some help?” offers Janus, expecting Remus to refuse, since he usually hates when other people try to help when he’s determined to do something himself, but Remus gives him a small nod. “Okay, here, let’s see what we can try.” He glances around, but none of the objects strewn haphazardly across the lawn would be of any help. “You could stand on my shoulders? I hate the idea, but if it would be of any help…”

Remus’ eyes grow determined once more. “Yeah, let’s do that!” He’s very clumsy as he uses Janus’ hands as a foothold to get onto his shoulders, and Janus keeps muttering, “Ow,” as Remus keeps stepping on him wrong. “Okay, okay, okay, I can do this.” Even on Janus’ shoulders, the branch is a little too far away for Remus to reach, although it’s mainly a horizontal distance. Remus rubs his hands together, exhales once, and then sort of clumsily leaps for the branch.

One of Remus’ hands manages to grab the branch, but his other is left dangling, and Janus holds his breath as he watches Remus slowly, painfully get a hold on the branch with his other hand and pull himself up onto it. He grins down at Janus with a thumbs-up, and Janus despises how comfortable Remus can be in dangerous situations.

“Be careful,” he hisses through his teeth as Remus stretches to grab the next branch up, which is much closer, but almost slips. Why did he let Remus do this? Why did he help him? Oh, god, what if Remus falls—

Remus has successfully climbed up two more branches, and he gasps.

Janus can’t see him from down here. “What?”

“I found the cat!” Remus’ voice is gleeful, but will this all be worth it? He isn't sure if it will.“I’m gonna come down now.” There’s a moment of silence. “Wait, I’m holding a cat, how do I get down?”Why hadn’t he thought about that before he climbed halfway up the damn tree?

“Okay, hold on, uh…” What’s the best solution? Ideally Remus would’ve put on a backpack before he’d started climbing and he could’ve put the cat in it so that his hands would be free for the climb back down, but that isn’t an option, since the only way for Janus to get a bag up to Remus is to climb up there himself, and he's not that confident in his ability to climb.

“Ow, shit, he bit me, Janus, help, aaaaaaa—” As Remus loses his balance on the branch, Janus makes a split-second decision. The decision itself is cushion him with your body, because you definitely can’t catch him, and he's holding a cat so he can't catch himself.

Admittedly, it’s a very stupid decision. Not only does Janus have the wind knocked out of him, but a sharp pain blossoms in his side, and his wrist ends up trapped underneath him as Remus falls on top of him. Wow, that was a great plan, I'm so smart, aren't I? In fact, I don't think I've ever had a better idea.

“Oh my god, Janus, are you okay?” Remus’ face is pale and he seems scared, but he’s holding a fluffy cat and they both appear unharmed. Janus smiles, relieved, but as he starts to sit up, the pain in his side is too much and his eyes start… leaking water? Oh, right, tears. “You didn’t have to do that, did you get hurt?” Janus grits his teeth as he nods, and Remus shifts so he’s holding the cat under one arm. It looks silly, but as soon as Janus laughs, he coughs, and he feels the stabbing sensation in his side worsen. “Let me help you.” Remus hooks his arm around Janus’ back and under his arm, and, with his help, Janus is able to stand.

“You’re an idiot.” His voice shakes due to the effort of standing and the energy being sapped from him by the pain.

“I know.” The two slowly make their way into the house, Remus supporting Janus, and as soon as the door opens, Patton sees the state they're in and calls for his husbands.

“I don’t believe you two,” Logan fumes, and Janus winces at the unnecessary amount of pressure Logan’s using to clean the bloody scrape on his hand. “Remus climbed into that tree for a cat, of all things? You know we can’t keep it, Patton’s allergic.”

“What were you thinking?” Virgil tugs at his sleeve agitatedly as he paces. “You didn’t even have a plan on how to get the cat down! And Janus got hurt, he’s got a broken rib!”

“‘M sorry,” mumbles Remus, gaze locked on the ground. “It was stupid, I… I don’t know what I was thinking.” He starts crying, and Roman, standing in the doorframe and out of the way, decides it’s time he stepped in.

“Well, no matter, the damage is already done.” His voice is low but soft, and Remus glances up at him, eyes shiny. “It may have been stupid, but we’ve all done things like that as a kid!”

“Really?” Remus sniffs.

“Yeah! For example, when I was a kid, I fell off the roof and broke my ankle. When Logan was a kid, he tried to reach one of the knives on the kitchen counter, but he was too short and ended up knocking all the knives off the counter, and one of them cut him.” He gestures first to himself and then to Logan as he talks about them.

Logan rolls his eyes. “Why did I tell you of all people that story again?”

“Cause you love me.” Roman grins cheekily, and Logan shakes his head with a fond smile. “And Virgil broke a glass and got some shards stuck in his feet.” Janus wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Even Patton!”

“What did Patton do?” asks Janus. He’s invested in this now, he needs to know. Besides, it’s a welcome distraction from both the pain of Logan treating his injuries and the interrupted lecture.

Roman winks at him. “Don’t tell Patton I told you this, but once he was riding his bike alone without a helmet and he ran straight into a pole. Hit his head and knocked himself out, just like that. So while what you did was stupid and you could have planned better, it’s not worse than what we’ve done in the past.”

“Just don’t do it again. If you need help, come ask one of us.” Logan finishes bandaging Janus’ wrist, lips pursed.

“I thought you’d be mad if we asked for help,” Remus admits.

“Not as mad as we are now,” counters Virgil. “Maybe if you had come to get help, you wouldn’t have fallen out of a tree.” Remus smiles sheepishly.

Patton pokes his head into the room. “Hey, kiddos. Are you feeling any better yet, Janus? Do you need any pain meds?”

Janus carefully flexes his wrist and winces. “I feel a little better, but I would like pain meds.”

“Okay.” Patton nods, but then suddenly tenses. The cat Remus had poorly rescued from the tree rubs against the exposed skin on Patton’s legs below the cuffs of his capris and above his socks. “Um. Guys. I’m allergic, why did you bring it inside?” His voice is strained and his face is carefully blank.

“Shit, hold on.” Roman lunges for the cat, picking him up and scratching behind his ears.

“Language,” Patton says half-heartedly as he studies his skin. His brows are furrowed—he seems confused.

“Is something wrong, Pat?” Virgil asks him.

“I don’t have hives? Usually there would be…” He trails off, but then his eyes widen and he smiles. He scoops the cat out of a surprised Roman’s arms, scratching his chin and laughing as he licks Patton’s fingers. “Guys, I think she’s hypoallergenic!”

“Wait, she?” Janus interjects. “Remus said ‘he.’”

“Well, Remus is wrong.” Patton barely glances up from the cat in his arms as he rocks gently back and forth. “This is a girl cat, and her name is Meeko like the raccoon in Pocahontas because she has stripes that remind me of a raccoon, and we’re keeping her.”

“We are?” Remus jumps to his feet.

“We are.” Patton smiles as a grin slowly spreads across Remus’ face, and he joins Patton to give the cat love.

Virgil shakes his head in mock disdain. “I hope you’re happy. Patton with a pet is a monster. You’ll never get him to stop spoiling that cat, and you’ll never get her away from him.”

Janus looks over again at Patton, who’s cooing at Meeko, and Remus, who’s making faces at her because look at you oh my god you’re so cute I just can’t and decides that, objectively, it must be true.

-----

Taglist:

@moxiety-my-love @celeste-tyrrell @bitteryjittery-andveryglittery @treasureofpriam @acompletemusicalnerd @unicornofdarknessstuff @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear

[ubernoxa]

The Sip: A GNR Modern Day AU

Chapter 6: Just Friends

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Chapter Summary: Alanah gets a call from her manager and Duff surprises her with some help.

Warning: Fluff

I sat on the couch in Sandy’s and my apartment wishing I was anywhere else.

Declan had surprised Sandy for dinner and they were currently out eating at some fancy restaurant.

A couple hours earlier, Declan showed up at our door with a dozen roses dresses in a full suit. Apparently it was their six month anniversary, but you wouldn’t know that if you saw Sandy at the party last night. There are times I wonder if she knows what the definition of committed relationship is. I can’t judge though, my last relationships was borderline fake.

Originally we were supposed to record, but they both looked so excited to go. Before Sandy could break the news to him on how she couldn’t go, I told her we could reschedule. We had some prerecorded stuff, so we could just post that instead. She was still hesitant, so I added on that I could livestream cooking. Eventually she caved and left for her dinner with Declan. I hope she didn’t cheat on him, but the way that stranger’s arm was wrapped around her led me to believe the worst. She was supposed to be the smart one out of the two of us. She didn’t leave without making a comment on how I should invite Duff over for the stream. I swear she just wanted me to get in a relationship again, so we could go on double dates and couples vacations.

I continued to stare in the mirror as I finished applying my foundation. My heart skipped a beat as the sound of my phone ringing echoed through my apartment. Duff?

To my disappointment, it was only my media manager..well both Sandy’s and my media manager. We hired her a while back to help us with the legal side of YouTube and to help with our social presence.

“Hey Alanah, hows it going?”

“Good, Good...preparing to do the livestream I just texted you about,” I began to begin working on my eyes as I spoke.

“Okay well...you know how I hate getting into your personal life Alanah, but...” God I wish she would just spit it out. I knew she was going to ask about if I was dating Duff or not. I know we’re not, but I....I don’t know. After this morning’s bathroom event, I needed to know what that meant to him. No way that was just two friends hanging out, or maybe that’s how a rockstar hangs out with girls? Fuck.

“Are you dating Duff,” I let a fake laugh escape me once she finally got around to asking the question.

“No, just friends.” Yup, just friends would had sex multiple times in the past 24 hours and then relaxed in a jacuzzi together. Just casual friend things.

My manager went silent for a couple seconds. Was she expecting me to say yes?

“Things just ended with Mark, and I just want to enjoy being single. I won’t lie, I shed a couple tears when I heard he said Alanah who....but I’ve heard worst things. Why are you asking?” I stopped applying my makeup and focused on my manager. She went silent again, and that wasn’t ever a good sign.

“Well, you were tagged in some social media posts.....” she once again paused causing my patience to go extinct. SPIT IT OUT.

“There was a video from the paparazzi, Ill send it your way. I know Mark is a celebrity, but he wasn’t a household name like Duff. If you two do start dating you are aware that you are going to lose your sense of privacy right? You’ll be added to his list of ex’s. That’s what you will be known for,” I let out a sigh as she finished talking. Jesus Christ, we aren’t even dating and I was already getting this talk.

“Just friends,” I faked the confidence in my voice before I heard her mumble something.

“Well I’m glad you’re doing well, I’ll send you a link to the video I was referencing. If you and Duff are JUST FRIENDS you should ask him to help cook for your stream tonight,”

“Really?” I sounded like a nervous middle schooler as I spoke. Why was I nervous?

“Yeah, could be fun. Have a good one Alanah,” she hung up before I could even say goodbye...typical.

I opened up Instagram and was immediately met with a bunch of notifications. Whoever ran the Gun’s Instagram page had tagged me in a couple of photos. Most of them consisted of photos from earlier in the night of us around the BBQ. I was surprised to see that I looked decent in most of them, and in a couple...only a couple of the photos...Duff and I did look like we were dating. He had is arm wrapped around my waist or I was sitting on his lap. We aren’t dating though just friends.

I went over to his page to message him, and that’s when I froze. I immediately clicked on the most recent post and scrolled through the photos. There was one photo that caught my attention. It was from when we were eating dinner last night. It must have been cropped because it was just the two of us, but I remembered this moment. He had just made a joke that was so stupid I couldn’t help, but laugh. Yesterday I didn’t notice it, but he was smiling down at me as I giggled in the photo and he had his hand wrapped around my waist. I couldn’t read into that much more. We are just friends. We are nothing more than friends. FRIENDS.

I logged into the Instagram account specifically for Sandy’s and my YouTube channel and began to record a video.

“Hey guy! Hope you’re haveing a great Tuesday. Sandy is out celebrating an anniversary so you’re stuck with me tonight!”

“Tonight I will be live-streaming me attempting to cook something you guys comment below! So comment your ideas and hopefully I won’t burn them!”

I then when to share the video on twitter and Tumblr to try to gain traction.

I put some music on and began to scroll through the comments trying to find an idea of what to cook. The comments started out as helpful but after some scrolling a lot of the comment were about Duff....I placed my phone out and let out a sigh.

“Are you and Duff dating?”

“Wow, talk about a rebound”

“Duff + Alanah... #upgrade”

Why did I have to deal with this bull shit? Not that I wouldn’t mind being his girlfriend....but he was a rockstar and we were JUST FRIENDS.

I was pulled from my thoughts as my phone began to ring. Speaking of the devil, it was Duff.

“Hey, what’s up?” I smiled as I looked at my screen. His hair was all over the place and he looked exhausted. It must had been a long practice.

“I’m about 30 seconds away from killing my bandmates, you?”

“Well I’m currently trying to chose what to cook for my livestream,” I quickly checked what I looked like on the screen. I was thankful that I put makeup on and did my hair, I looked pretty good..not to toot my own horn or anything.

“How about Thai Salmon?” I was caught off guard by his recommendation.

“Ohhh uhhh I don’t know how to bake that.....and umm...I don’t want to look like a fool on livestream,” I was tripping over my words, unable to cease talking.

“Well if you need help, I’m actually a decent cook. I could even show you some stuff if you want,” he wanted to help me cook?

“Yeah sure!” I could feel a smile growing on my cheek from ear to ear as I spoke. I watched a smile flash on his face as I answered.

“Great! So I’ll bring the ingredients we need and we also have to soak the salmon for two hours before it’s cooked!”

My stomach was performing backflips as Duff talked. He was excited. He was excited to hang out with me. Holy shit.

Time flew by as I began to setup the two cameras. The first was on a rather large tripod allowing you to see the entire kitchen, which wasn’t much, and the second was a small camera that would be used for more close up shots.

***Buzz***

I practically jumped out of my skin when I heard my apartment’s doorbell ring. I bolted towards my intercom to the lobby, “Hello?”

“Hey Alanah, it’s Duff I got the stuff, wanna let me in or we can try to cook in the lobby?” I chuckled as I hit a button on my intercom and buzzed in. What if he thinks less of me because of my small apartment? What if he thinks I’m below him? Is my apartment too dirty? Is it too clean?

A knock at the door pulled me out of my chaotic merry-go-round of thoughts.

I took a deep breath and opened my door.

“So this is what your apartment looks like,” he had a small smile on his face as he walked around looking at the photos that hung on the wall.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” I shrugged leaning against the table for support.

“Its cozy! I got the food, shall we begin?”

“Umm...yeah..uhhh..yeah..so since the salmon needs to marinate I’m doing a little prerecording for the video to post later in the week if that’s fine,” I wanted to kick myself repeatedly for stumbling over my words. God! I felt like such a baffoon.

“How can I help?” I watched as he looked at my camera positioned to look at the entire room.

“You can do whatever you want! If you wanna help with the cameras it’s up to you. If you want to sit on the couch and be on your phone that’s fine too,” I shrugged watching his body language as I spoke. He actually wanted to help....the rockstar was looking to help..weird okay.

“So that camera there is for overall shots while this one is for like close up,” I held up the second camera showing him how to properly hold it.

“So this first part isn’t live?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to make everyone wait two hours. I usually take live-streams and create highlight videos,” I began to pull the items out of Duff’s cloth bag.

I looked over to see Duff fiddling with the second camera and eventually turning it on. Out of the corner of my eye I then watched as he turned on the second one. Maybe he wasn’t as unfamiliar with cameras as I expected him to be.

I then felt him wrap his arms around my waist.

“Hey...Duff,” I could feel my heart rate about to explode through my chest. I’ve had sex with him before, why was I nervous around him? Why the hell was him being so close to me making my stomach become an Olympic gymnast?

“Don’t mind me, I’m just turning on your mic,” and with that I hear a faint click from a small switch that turned my mic on. He then clapped once and went to pick up the second camera.

“I’m ready when you are,” I could feel my cheeks turning red as he spoke. His damn smirk never leaving his stupid face. He knew what he was doing.

“Alright, welcome to another cooking with Alanah and Sandy, but this time there is no Sandy so we will see what happens! My current goal is to not burn the food,” before I could continue Duff’s laughter echoed through my apartment.

“What? Also cameramen should be quiet!” I teased back pointing at the camera, only making his laugh harder.

“Alanah, babe, I’ve seen your previous cooking videos and I think your goal should be to not burn down your apartment,” I froze as I tried to make out what he said between laughing.

Babe?

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t get rid of the smile that had grown on my face.

“Alright so tonight we are making teriyaki salmon! The first step is to create the marinate!” I pulled out the cooking instructions I had made Duff write before he came over.

“Alright so for the sweet chili sauce we will combine water, white vinegar, cornstach, garlic clove, and.......maple syrup,” I looked over at Duff as I read the last ingredient.

“Are you messing with me Duff?” His laughter filled the room once again and I couldn’t help but join him. His laugh was contagious.

“If I was messing with you I would have either been more subtle or more outlandish,” I watched as he placed the camera on my mini tripod infornt of the bowls I had setup for mixing.

We spent the next thirty minutes preparing the sauce together, and I loved every second of it.

“And now we wait for two hours while the salmon soaks,” Duff said into the camera before smirking at me. He was good in front of a camera and he knew it.

“So now we have two hours,” I finished turning off the cameras and my mic as he spoke.

“Do you have anything in mind in how to spend the time?” This time I couldn’t help but let a smirk wander into my face.

Without hesitation, Duff pulled me in and we began to kiss as he dragged me to my bedroom.

[geek-gem]

FNAF Fazbear’s Reborn

GeekGem's FNAF The Silver Eyes Sequel AU

*I’ve had this for a few weeks or two. I’m officially gonna post this now. Don’t take it too seriously. But yeah this is a character info post. Maybe part 1 most likely. But I’m not gonna name it that. Despite it seems to be that. But I just wanna post this old thing. This is basically a synopsis with again talking about some characters. So shit I can’t post this on my FNAF Blog. I mean I’ll get more traction on my main blog. Okay I’ll try that. But next time like I’ve talked about. I’m doing stuff like this for my FNAF blog*

It's been four years since the horrific events at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Ever since then, Charlie has been trying to move on. All seems to be going well after completing university. When she first hears from her friend Carlton back in Hurricane, Utah that something has been happening. Somehow a new Freddy Fazbear's Pizza is going to open. Including the original animatronics are gonna be used. Despite everything that's happened at Freddy's.

Furious upon discovering this, trying to move on from these events. She is joined by her friends and others to stop this pizzeria from opening and why is it even happening in the first place.

While during all this and trying to find some answers. She meets two fresh employees who are working there by the names of Mike Schmidt and Jeremy Fitzgerald. Who want to assist Charlie however they can.

But during this crusade. The group discover certain events that happened after 1985. Including more repressed memories coming up in Charlie's mind revealing certain things. Along with the discovery that William had family, especially an eldest son by the name of Michael Afton. Who is working at a sister location called Circus Baby's Entertainment And Rental.

With these discoveries, more dark things are revealed. Including the intentions of a certain Andrew Afton and some animatronics.

Charlie Emily: A 21 year old young woman who is the daughter of the man who opened both Fredbear's Family Diner and Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Despite appearing kind hearted and independent. She has suffered PTSD from the events such as losing people close in her life, and facing off against a masked murderer and four killer animatronics.

Despite suffering from this trauma. She's been trying to move forward with her life. When she first hears about this news involving Freddy's. She is enraged by this and wants to stop this pizzeria from being opened.

During this crusade, she is joined by old and new friends who want to help her cause. But also more repressed memories are awoken as she discovers other events that have happened.

As of now despite their relationship seemed romantic for some time. Charlie and John have decided not to pursue a serious relationship after sometime.

While she was weary of the two guards at first. She realizes she has no reason to hate them and all they wanted was a job. Because of this she becomes closer to them.

Mike Schmidt: A 25 year old US solider who was honorably discharged a year before working at the new Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Having moved into Hurricane in 1989 with his family. He didn't hear the story of Freddy's till someone mentioned. Including when the anniversary happened in 1995.

Despite his serious demeanor, he's actually a very chill and fun loving kind of guy. Back in the day be grew up being best friends with officer Dunn. But Mike was shocked when he found out his best friend was killed in the abandoned Freddy's in the old mall. He still misses Dunn to this day. Especially after Dunn's death. It seems like Mike may have developed some sort of stubbornness and anger issues. But feel inside he was still the same guy.

Upon meeting Charlie while he didn't know what to fully think of how to interact with this young girl. He can understand and relate with her pain of losing a friend at Freddy's. Since becoming friends, especially with Jeremy Fitzgerald. He's developed a sort of older brother relationship with them. Something he felt amiss ever since Dunn was killed.

Jeremy Fitzgerald: a 22 year old young man who's family moved into Hurricane in 1987. Having no personal connections to Freddy's, he had no problem working at the new Freddy's. Even though at a young age he was wondered if becoming a police officer and idolized someone like Dunn. He was saddened hearing what happened to the young officer.

Despite at times being a nervous wreck, especially around women. Jeremy is a genuinely kind hearted person who can be courageous and determined. Despite at times he may seem like a coward. But he genuinely wants to help people.

After meeting Charlie and her reasons why she's against the new Freddy's. He quickly empathizes with her cause and wants to assist but not trying to get fired quickly.

During this crusade. Jeremy begins to feel attracted to Charlie because of her personality and after she shows him some affection back. But he's nervous if she will return the same feelings back. Counting the fact he's working in a pizzeria she desperately wants shut down. Including this is after her and John stopped dating.

But also during all of this. Jeremy discovers a terrible event that happened to his birth father. What really happened to his frontal lobe.

Michael Afton: A 26 year old man and the eldest son of William Afton. Ever since his dad went missing. He's stayed with his uncle Andrew instead.

Despite appearing very empathic and kind. Michael when he was younger was a different person. Someone who's actions led to the demise of his younger brother.

With the fact he suffers from depression and guilt. Charlie was surprised to hear that William even had a son of any kind. Yet as more repressed memories come up, she slowly remembers him.

As he and Charlie get to know each other more. Despite she's conscious of who Michael is. Because he's William's son but she shouldn't put that against him. Talking with Charlie. He soon learns who his father really was, including the possibility of some how that his sister Elizabeth could be out there.

Which results him going to Circus Baby's Entertainment And Rental.

Andrew Afton: The younger brother of William Afton and CEO of Fazbear Entertainment and Circus Baby's.

Not much is known about Andrew. Expect that he’s 4 years younger than his brother. Including he was working with William and Henry before Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza shut down in 1985. Having been a worker for them since the beginning at Fredbear’s Family Diner. 

Ever since 1985, he’s been in his brothers shadow and just working under his him. A funny way to describe Andrew is that he’s a more masculine version of his own brother. But compared to this brother...William over time seemed to become less normal. Including a lot of times, going out and about without explanation. Then in 1995 he went missing or so it seemed. 

Being a charmer and mature but masculine looking gentlemen. Basically living up to the meaning of his name Andrew. Yet overtime including when Andrew took over Fazbear Entertainment and Circus Baby’s something was off about him.

It didn’t help that over the time of his life he got life lessons from his older brother. Including whatever happened during the times in 1985 and 1987. 

One thing is for certain....in 1999 he discovered William’s corpse in the Spring Bonnie suit......he was genuinely surprised to learn his older brother was dead. Instead of possibly just getting rid of it or tryin to put his brother to rest. He decided to single handedly board up the room his brothers corpse was in. 

Because there was the possibility what he’s seen and heard of what the animatronics can become...he worried.....something would happen the same way with William. 

Despite the negative protests against him. He believes he’s doing a good thing by reopening Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza and starting new. Hopefully that with the start of a new decade. To move forward into the future with a more positive outlook.

But what he also actually thinks....he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. No matter the death threats or protests...he has more malicious intentions. Learning from his experience in 1987, and what the Funtime Animatronics were created for. He’s now in a position where he can do whatever he wants. 

[imagethat]

Jenny | Nico x Female Reader

This one's for the girls, I try to keep everything gender neutral but I really wanted to write something to the song Jenny. Nico x Female Reader~

You had known Nico ever since the two of you were kids. She was always just as excitable, ambitious, and talented as she was now. The way her eyes lit up when she got an idea, how she'd ramble on for hours, or request your help in the garage. You couldn't help but fall in love with her. As the two of you drove towards the phone booth Nero had rang from you tapped your fingers on the seats handle.

Jenny darlin, you're my best friend

It was a month into the Quipoths reign over Red Grave. You, Nero, and Nico have been working night and day to help any survivors.

But there's a few things that you don't know about

You had to slam your hands on the dashboard to keep your face from smashing into it first as Nico leaned out the window to chat with Nero. "No! Not that one! Next to it!" She pointed, wanting the demon part clearly. You internally laughed at how much of an airhead Nero could be, whether it was intentional or not. As Nico fashioned the new demon part into a work of art, you decided to check on Nero. The demon he took down was pretty big after all. "Fuck I need some fresh air." Nero said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Suit yourself." Nico said from her work station, cigarette lit in her mouth even as she worked. Nero grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the van.

Why I borrow you lipstick so often, or how I'm using your shirt as a pillow case

"Ow!" You hissed as he released you. "So!?!?" He asked. "So what?" You questioned, already knowing well what he wanted to hear. "You know what!" He replied with a pointed look. "You get injured so conveniently and I leave so you two have the whole van to yourself and you still don't do anything!" Nero said while crossing his arms. You did have the van all to yourselves but what are you supposed to do. Just be like 'hey I've been mega crushing on you hardcore and like I dont know if you like women but if you do then like maybe we should be together.' You cringed at even the thought of it. "I… I can't do it Nero! I'd rather just be friends… that way I won't risk losing anything." You said while pressing your back to the van and sliding to the ground. You buried your face into your knees. "I already know though, you don't need to remind me." You added quietly. The situation was already grim and some nights the thought you'd never make it back to Nico at all was overpowering. The demons were growing stronger, and at this point in time you three still thought Urizen killed Dante. Unaware he had miraculously survived. Nero sighed softly before crouching down. "Listen, you know Nico well and I know Nico well. She cares for you a lot." He said. You could tell he was being honest, but the thought of telling her scared you. Would you never be able to return to building your motorcycle with her? Would trips to the beach be awkward after this? Your thoughts spun around. The door slammed open and hit something metal. It was Nero's arm, and had he not stopped it, it would've hit you. "Hey! Careful with my-" Nico demanded before noticing you behind the door. "Shit sorry!" She said in a panic. You forced a smile and reassured her it was fine. "Alright! Come see what I've cooked up!" She exclaimed excitedly, Nero following her back into the van. But not without giving you a certain look.

I want to ruin our friendship

Later that night you took over the driving so Nico could get some needed rest. She seemed so peaceful. You didn't have any spare blankets in the van, so you draped your jacket over her instead. The phone rang, but lucky for you Nico was a pretty heavy sleeper. "Where are you?" You asked and Nero ignored you. "So!?!?" He demanded and you slammed the phone back into the holder. He was a persistent jackass and kept trying to call until you had to turn off the phone. By the time you did, Nico was awake though and looked a little displeased. "Somethin' happening hun?" She mused groggily. "No, no! Everythings fine. Nero is just being annoying as usual." You reassured in a soft tone. She nodded and searched for her glasses, unable to find them in the dark. You grabbed them from the dash and slid them carefully onto her face.

We should be lovers instead

Your hand lingered for a moment too long before you pulled away. Thankful it was night, because the dusk hid your blushing cheeks. "Sorry!" You quickly said before taking your seat again. "You can go back to sleep, I've got this. Don't worry." You said with a smile. She tucked herself back in with your jacket, which made your face burn even worse. 

I don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend

These feelings would continue to consume you the way they had for months. The first time you realized you had them was one time when the two of you were working in the garage on a truck. You always teased her, saying it looked like a toy truck. But having something that could go off road would really help with getting more jobs. The thing was her prized joy and the two of you built it from the frame up. Adding your own flare to the inside with decorations too. "We have to test it!!!" She cheered, hands clenched near her chest. It took a good half hour before she convinced you. "No crazy driving though! We still need to do a bit more work." You warned while climbing into the passenger seat. She squealed and climbed into the driver's seat. The ride seemed to be going well and was tame for her until she spotted a completely empty parking lot. You could see it in her eyes. "Nico no!" You cried as she drove over the sidewalk into it, starting to do cookies in the parking lot. Part of the tire had lost traction though and simultaneously the power steering gave out. Causing the steering wheel to become too hard to turn. You could feel the momentum and Nico let out a scream. You were quicker, unbuckling your seatbelt and moving into her lap almost. You were part demon, and stronger than her, so you had no problem turning the wheel as you flicked through the gears. When you finally came to a stop that showed no sign of tipping you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Your chest heaving for air, Nico's doing the same. She was used to stuff like that, but even it had frightened her. In this moment of closeness though, your legs lightly tangled together, your noses almost touching as you looked at her. It burned in your chest. You buried your face in her shoulder as you laughed at the pure luck you had just encountered. She hugged you tightly. "You're a gift from god, you are a gift from fucking god." She sang through her breaths. Suffice to say you drove back and made a pact to never tell Nero because he'd never let you live it down. You got lost in your thoughts, recalling every good time you've had with her. 

I've been doing bad things that you don't know about stealin your stuff now and then

Nero knew about your feelings early on and joked about how Nico was blind for not being able to see them. The only reason you think he knew though was because one time you had gotten completely covered in demon gunk so you borrowed one of Nicos shirts. And you had carelessly worn it in front of Nero when he came to hang out at your house. When he offered to take it back to her you got flustered and tried to lie and say it was a gift. But he knew. Oh he knew. You always gave Nico extra attention, taking hard missions just to get her new materials. Offering to buy her food so you could see her. 

Nothing you'd miss but it means the world to me

But most telling of all was when Nicos birthday rolled around. You spoiled the girl senseless with all the attention, demon parts, and gifts you could afford. The thing she adored most though was a tiny sterling silver heart necklace you had bought her. Sure, it was a little tacky, but it was small and clung close to her neck. You knew she wouldn't want anything too fancy. Later that night all of you had gone to a club, just to dance and enjoy her special night. Nero stayed away from you two because he could see the way you laughed and danced with her. Your eyes gleaming, even in the slightly dark disco room. But the way the lights landed on Nico as she moved, you couldn't help but be mesmerized. 

I wanna ruin our friendship we should be lovers instead but I don't know how to say this because you're really my dearest friend

As your thoughts become overbearing, you gave into sleep. How you wanted to hold her right now. You woke up to the sound of Nico tinkering. She noticed you sit up immediately and dropped a wrench in surprise. "Oh my god I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you!" She said apologetically. "It's fine, you've gotta be ready for the day n all." You hummed tiredly as you stretched. "Oh my god I'm so sore." You whimpered, not used to sleeping in the drivers chair. You got up and made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up for the day. As you made your way out, informing Nico you were joining the hunt again, she stopped you. She seemed embarrassed, hiding something behind her back. "What is it?" You asked curiously with a confused expression. "C-close your eyes and hold out your hands!" She demanded. You followed her orders and tried to guess what she placed in your hands. "Open!" She exclaimed. You opened your eyes to find your weapons in your hand. But she had improved them by heaps and bounds. "Oh my gosh! Thank you!" You said excitedly, wanting to test them out. "O-of course, I've been saving up parts to make 'em really good." She said while averting her eyes from yours. "R-really?" You questioned and she nodded. "Yeah, but don't tell Nero! It's only free for you!" She exclaimed and you nodded while smiling. "Of course!" You said while offering a pinky. She locked hers with yours and nodded with a grin. "Alright, if that's all, I'll be on my way. Thank you so much!" You exclaimed, making your way to the door again but she stopped you. 

Jenny take my hand

She was holding your hand from across the counter, and before you could turn to face her she had ducked below the counter and gotten behind you. Placing her hands on your shoulder blades. It made you shudder but you kept deathly still. "Nico?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't one to be tender with anyone but in this moment she seemed so soft. Her arms wrapped around you from behind. Was she… Crying??? She wasn't one to cry either. She wasn't worried about the demon outbreak until you had been injured and had to stay with her in the van. The wound was pretty deep and if you were honest, you got lucky. She pressed her face into your shoulder. The past few days you had been too absorbed in your thoughts to notice how she had changed or how much she was working. "Stay safe out there." She said quietly, giving your stomach a squeeze. Slowly your rested your hands on top of hers.

Cause we are more than friends, and I will follow you until the end

"I will." Was all you could manage to squeeze out. You don't know how long you two stood like that before you peeled her hands from you so you could turn and face her. You hesitated for a moment before raising your hands to her cheeks. Rubbing away the remnants of her tears softly with your thumbs. "I will, I promise." You repeated in a more affirmative voice. She nodded before leaning in. You closed your eyes as you accepted her kiss. Her lips were soft and you could taste whatever chapstick she had used earlier. You got caught up in the moment as she leaned into you more heavily. You wished you could stay like this forever, in this perfect moment. You pulled away slowly and rested your forehead against hers. 

[riverdalepoet]

ALL I EVER WANTED (part 5)

PAIRINGS: Sweet Pea and OC (Emma Carter Wilson); Fangs and Kevin; Betty and Jughead; Toni and Cheryl

WORD COUNT: 1294

WARNINGS: language and suggestive themes

A/N:  Although Sweets has been back at it for months now, Emma’s going back to work, and Serpent life like she does everything else: head first. (I still own nothing)

PART 1      PART 2      PART 3      PART 4

________________________________________________

  Whether I liked it or not, I had to leave the comfort of my home and the cuddles of my four month old and get back to work.   Sweet Pea returned to Andrews Construction a mere two weeks after Carter was born.  Throughout his first day back, he flooded my phone with messages, utterly heartbroken to be away from his little buddy.

                Luckily, my mom stepped in to manage Southside Sounds while I was out having Carter.  She told me if I wanted to take another month, she would hold down the fort, but with Veronica’s competing shop opening up in a few weeks I had to get back to business.

                Southside Sounds Record Store had been in my family for generations and was the reason we moved to Riverdale in the first place.  When my grandfather passed, my mom had no choice but to come take it over.  A few years back my parents came to me desperately.  They had nearly run it in the ground, and if something didn’t change and fast, we would lose our business.  From that moment, the store was officially mine.  I cut costs dramatically, streamlined our inventory, expanded our marketing targets, and organized community events. I made it a safe place for Southside teens to relax, and find weekend and summer jobs. It took a lot of double shifts, sleepless nights, creativity, and breakdowns but we were finally seeing the product of our labor.

                That is until Veronica announced the opening of Archie’s birthday present- Archie’s Records.  The day I found out, I stormed to Andrews Construction, guns blazing with the flyer Veronica taped on our window crumbled in my fist.  Sweet Pea met me at the door and tried to get me to calm down, but once he saw the flyer, he called for Archie.

                It took some convincing, but Archie assured me that he had nothing to do with the business.  Veronica insisted that it be named for him, and he expressed how tactless he thought it was for her to do that.  Despite his vicious girlfriend’s influence, Archie was still a decent person.  That didn’t stop me from declaring war on our Northside competitor.

                Before I made my way to the shop, I dropped Carter off at my mother's.  I left after an hour of briefing her on everything Carter and crying about having to leave him for any amount of time.  When I finally made it back to the car with ruined makeup, I got a text from my husband.

[My Man:  Happy first day back to my sexy boss babe! I’m proud of you, and I’ll prove it later ; ). I’m bringing the new recruit by after he gets out of school.  His name is Blazer- he’ll be good there… and if he’s not, I can fix that.  I love you x]

                That was my favorite part of running the store- getting to help young Serpents.  I knew some of them worked for school clothes and even food, and it broke my heart. Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I made my way to the store.  When I opened the door, I saw that my mom made a few changes while I was gone.  I made a mental note to talk to Crystal about letting her mess with the way I had the store merchandised.

                I spent the next two hours in my office planning this week’s open mic night, and brainstorming ideas for opportunities to build our image in the community.  Right when I finished up sketching Friday’s flyer, Crystal walked in.  “Hey, Ems, welcome back,” she greeted, tossing her bag on the coat rack.

                “Hey, traitor.  Couldn’t tell my mom no, could ya?” I sneered, smiling at her regardless.  She flicked on all the lights and shrugged in response.

                “She said if I stopped her, she’d fire me.”

  ��             “Dude, she’s not your boss.  I am.”

                “Yeah well, tell her that.  Your mom is scary.” She shuddered at the thought, making me laugh, and I helped her prep the store for opening.

                “Alright, alright.  Fill me in.  What all have I missed?

                Her blonde curls bobbed animatedly as she opened the doors and caught me up.  “So your mother ran off the kids that come in to just listen to the music.  You’re gonna have to round them up and convince them that it’s safe again, cause she was a total dragon.  There’s a local band that’s gaining some traction and they’re from the Southside, so we should be able to get them to perform here a few nights.  They just signed with that label out of Greendale- Bewitching or whatever the hell it’s called. Maybe you could call Gus to see if we can host their album release.”

                “Oh I like it,” I wrote it down on my list.  “Anything else?”

                She paused and pursed her lips, stalling.  “Yeaaahhh.  ‘Bitchronica’ got Eliza and The Delusionals to perform for the grand opening.”

                Crystal grimaced when I flung my clipboard on the ground, “How in the hell? They hardly come to the States,” I seethed, and forced myself to take a deep breath.  “It’s fine.  It’ll be fine.  We have our regulars, we have our plans, and we have our community.”

                “We just don’t have Eliza and The Delusionals,” she muttered, getting right to work on reorganizing the LPs.

                I glared in retaliation, “Do you want to be fired?”  Her hands were raised in surrender, and I shook my head.  By the time Sweet Pea showed up with Blazer in tow, we had the store back in functioning order.  He looked to be about sixteen and stood just below Pea’s shoulder.

                Sweet Pea walked him over to me and kissed me briefly on my forehead before turning back to his recruit and fixing him with his sternest glare.  “Alright, Blaze, no funny business.  You make one wrong move here, and you’ll pay for it tenfold in The Gauntlet, you got me?”  The poor kid nodded, looking truly terrified.

                I reached up to steal a kiss from my favorite baby Serpent wrangler and smacked him on the ass as he headed for the door.  Right before he left he turned around.  “Em, show him the basics and get Crystal to watch him after that.  Jug wants us all at the Wyrm.”

                “I guess my maternity leave is over on all accounts, huh?” I groaned as he threw me a wink.

                I watched him walk to his bike and drive off before turning around to my newest employee, “It’s really not as intimidating as he made it out to be.  Do you like music?” He nodded.

                “Do you plan to trash my store or screw me over?”

                His eyes went white, and he stammered nervously, “No ma’am.”

                “Then you’ll be fine.  Oh, and Blazer?  Don’t call me ma’am.”

                When I pulled in to the parking lot of the White Wyrm, Sweet Pea was leaning against his bike, waiting for me.  He smiled when I hopped out and whistled at him.  “Hey hot stuff, my husband’s not around.  Wanna have some fun?”

                He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him, placing quick kisses up the side of my neck.  “You’re dangerous.”

                “You ready to talk about what happened the other day on the job? I’m assuming that’s why we’re here.” I leaned against his chest.

                I felt his breath hitch in his chest beneath my head and I looked up at his conflicted face immediately. Whatever it was that he was called out to do was personal, and he was obviously struggling with it.  “Baby, I should’ve already told you this.” He took a few more minutes and clutched the smooth leather of my jacket desperately.  “My dad’s in town.”

[lovemesomerafael]

EL AMOR TODO LO PUEDE Chapter 12:  Don’t Call Me A Hero

Read Chapters 1-10   Chapter 11

The paramedics and firefighters were taking forever to even figure out how to get Parker out of the position she’d fallen in, and into a position where they could work on her.  Voight was out of his mind.  He couldn’t stand the sight of her lying there, bloody and broken, and worse than that was the fact that no one was doing a damn thing.  He raged and threatened, got into people’s faces, and generally made a horrific situation worse.  Finally, Chief Boden had to back Voight away from the scene and keep him there until, at last, Parker could be moved.  Brett and Dawson assessed her injuries as well as they could before determining the least dangerous option for getting Laura onto a gurney so they could get her to Med.  The last thing they wanted was to make her injuries worse.  Three firefighters followed precisely dictated instructions to slowly and meticulously support her limbs as they turned her.  It was excruciating to see that, although she was unconscious, she still grimaced and cried out as she was moved.  

Even then, the crime scene unit would not let anyone down the stairs until the smears and drops of blood on every step had been fully photographed.  Just from the look of the stairs, Voight and Olinsky knew it was going to be bad.  When they were finally allowed to descend, the CSU tech at the bottom of the steps muttered, “Hope you got a strong stomach.”  

The scene was appalling.  The room appeared to be a mostly-disused basement or storage room, with cinder block walls and a dirt floor.  It also appeared to be an abbatoir.  All four walls had spatters and smears of what was obviously blood on them, some with drips leading down to stains in the dirt.  There were pieces of torn cloth on the floor, some of which also showed bloodstains.  A crooked stack of pallets teetered against one wall, broken in places.  The blood smears and the angle at which they leaned made it clear that a bleeding body had been thrown against them with some force, more than once. The floor was covered with footprints, skid and drag marks, and large indentations in the dirt that looked like a body had fallen hard, or been thrown there.  Several boxes which appeared to have once been stacked were scattered across the floor, many crushed and smeared with blood.

And there was a body.  A man, clothes torn and covered with blood, lay on his back on the dirt floor.  His cause of death wasn’t immediately apparent, although his throat appeared to be particularly bloody.

Taken together, the grisly scene told a tale of a desperate fight to the death which had gone on for quite some time.  The man had been the loser.  Voight went to him and bent down, looking at the dead man’s neck. There were deep, bloody gashes in his throat, and bruising that looked… wrong.  The gashes – four on the left and one on the right – had to have been made by fingernails dug with ferocious tenacity into his flesh.  His throat looked somehow stretched out, disfigured in a way Voight couldn’t make sense of.  The guy’s eyes were open, staring.  Voight saw, when he shined his flashlight into them, that they had the telltale pinpoint spots of bleeding that happened with a strangling.  What the hell had Parker had to do?

Halstead came down the stairs and stopped, mouth agape. “Fuck me,” he gasped.

“Yeah.  I don’t even want to think about what happened down here.  They got Parker in the ambo yet?”  Voight’s gravelly voice was grave.

“Not yet.  She’s got a collapsed lung, chest filled with blood.  They have to put a chest tube in.  Sarge, it’s rough.  They don’t know if she’s gonna make it.”

It was all Voight could do not to kick the corpse.  As he was spitting a string of expletives, they heard a commotion outside with raised voices and clear sounds of a scuffle.

“Go,” Voight said, pointing Halstead to the stairs.

He took the stairs two at a time, reaching the door just as Mouse broke free from the firefighters restraining him.  He ran straight into Jay, who wrestled him to the ground.

“Stop!  Just stop!”

“Screw you, Jay, I need to see what he did to her!”

“Greg, you don’t wanna go down there,” Halstead said, struggling to keep Mouse from breaking his hold on him.  

“Get off me!”

“Mouse, no.  Trust me, man, you do not want that room in your head.  You don’t.”

“What the hell happened?  How did she –“

“Greg, listen to me.  I need you to listen to me right now.  Can you do that?”

“Yeah, yeah.  Let me up, man.”

“Not before you swear to me – swear to me – that you will take care of Laura right now.  Let us deal with this.  Because that is what you need to do right now.  That’s what she needs.  OK?”

“Yeah, OK.  I got it.”

“Swear to me.”

“Yeah.  I swear.”

“OK, man.  Go take care of your girl.”

*****

The waiting room at Chicago Med’s ER was far too small for the number of first responders in it.  It was definitely too small for Mouse.  He was losing his mind not being able to do anything, pacing and pulling his hands through his hair, bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinding his teeth. It was painful to watch him try to sit, only to jump up almost immediately, unable to stay still.  The waiting lasted forever.  In fact, it was well into the afternoon before Ethan Choi came out from the treatment area to the waiting room.

When he did, almost the entire room rose and tried to crowd around him. Halstead pushed past the other first responders to Ethan, making a path for Mouse.

Dr. Choi knew Halstead and Mouse fairly well, and he knew families of trauma patients.  Mouse looked like he was going to be as much of a challenge as the patient herself, with all of her horrific injuries.  

“How is she?  Can I see her?”  Mouse was wild-eyed, agitated.  

“One thing at a time.  Let’s start with the good news.  Right now, she’s stable.  She has a number of injuries I’m worried about, ones that can cause her serious problems if they go south.  But if they don’t, if this is as bad as it gets, she should survive.”

“That’s too many fucking ‘ifs’, brother.”

“I know, Mouse, believe me, I know.  But that’s where we are.”

“And that’s the good news?”  Mouse was fairly shrieking.

“One more piece of good news.  She wasn’t raped.”  

The room gave a collective sigh of relief.  

“But I’m afraid that’s it for good news.  As you know, she has multiple, serious injuries. She has a lot of fractures.  I could list them for you, but I warn you, it’s a long list.  We treated the ones we can, but the skull and rib fractures have to heal on their own. We were able to reduce the dislocated shoulder; that’ll heal.  We’ve just got her in a sling to keep her comfortable.  She has some bleeding into her brain, which we’re watching very closely.  If it gets worse, we may need to operate.  Same for her internal injuries.  She’s bleeding internally which, again, if it gets worse could mean surgery.  The hemothorax is stable with the chest tube; her lung’s reinflated and she’s breathing easy, O2 sats look good.  There’s not much we can do about her teeth right now, but we wouldn’t be able to anyway, because her jaw’s broken in two places.  We’ve had to wire it.”

“I want to see her.”

Ethan frowned and pursed his lips.  “I know you do.  But it might be best to let her rest for now.  We’re taking the best care –“

“Choi, if I have to bust in there, then that’s what I’m gonna do.  I need to see Laura.”

Everything about Mouse’s demeanor said that he would physically fight his way into Laura’s room if he had to.  

Jay put a hand on Mouse’s shoulder and said, “Ethan, man, you need to let him in.  I know she’d want to see him, and you can see he needs to see her.  Just… please.”

“All right,” Ethan sighed.  He looked hard at Mouse.  “But we’re gonna do this my way, you understand?  I don’t want to pull rank on you, but I will if I have to.  Are we clear?”

“We’re clear.  Just let me see her.”

Ethan walked Mouse through the double doors between the waiting room and the treatment area of the ER.  They walked a short distance before he pulled Mouse out of the middle of the hallway to stand next to the wall outside one of the treatment rooms.

“Listen, I need to prepare you for what you’re going to see.”

“I saw her at the scene, I know how bad it is.”

“No, Mouse, you don’t.  Injuries from a beating get worse before they get better.  When she came in last night, her bruises had barely started to show and the swelling wasn’t fully developed.  You’re not gonna recognize your girlfriend.”

Mouse blanched and swore under his breath.

“She has splints on both hands; three on the left and one on the right.  She has fractures of her left wrist and forearm, so that’s casted, and her left leg is going to be in traction for a while before we can cast it.  Her jaw’s wired shut.  It’s bad, Mouse.  You need to be prepared.”

“If she has to take it, so do I.  I won’t lose it, I swear.  I just need to be with Laura.”  Mouse’s voice broke as he looked desperately at Ethan.

Ethan had been right.  Mouse would never have believed that was Laura if he hadn’t seen her at the scene.  Her left eye was swollen shut and her right nearly so.  Bruises were criss-crossed with cuts on her face and the parts of her he could see between the hospital gown and casts.  Worst, her mouth was a swollen, bloody mess, with several of her teeth missing and shiny silver wire just visible between her swollen, split lips.

Mouse tiptoed to the edge of her bed, trying to see anywhere on her body where he could safely touch her.  He settled for kneeling next to the bed and putting a hand on her right upper arm, above the sling holding her previously-dislocated shoulder in place.

Unbelievably, she was awake.  She peered at him through the slit between the bruised swelling of her left eye.  She made a horrible wheezing sound which he could only guess might be crying.  

“Mmmm shrrry…  Mmmm shrrry…”

Could it be possible that she was trying to apologize? To him?  What the hell for?  

“Hey, hey…  I’m right here.  It’s gonna be OK.  I got you…” Mouse no longer bothered to hold back his tears.  He laid his head down on the bed next to her, putting the hand that wasn’t holding her arm softly onto her stomach.  Both of them silently cried, unable to communicate, but at least finally able to be together.  

*************

All Laura wanted to do was disappear.  She actually wished the swelling wasn’t receding, because it had hidden her eyes from the world.  Every second she wasn’t distracted with something happening that required her direct attention, she was back in that bloody cellar, flailing ineffectually at a man determined to kill her while he hit, kicked, and threw her against things at will.  The helplessness she’d felt would haunt her for the rest of her life.  

The hellish, unspeakable thing she’d been forced to do to save her own life filled her mind.  She could not rid herself of the feeling of that man’s throat in her hand and the ghastly, sickening feeling of something internal tearing as she twisted and pulled for her life.  She could hear his choking, gurgling screams.  She felt as though her right hand was a hideous, bloody claw, even when she was looking directly at her clean skin and nails with the bright white brace on the middle finger.

The guilt and shame she felt were overwhelming. But the very worst part was that only Mouse would allow her to feel them.  Everyone who loved her, everyone who cared about her, including her parents and brothers, told her what a good thing it was that she’d killed the man who attacked her and all those other women.  They called her horrible names like ‘brave’ and ‘hero’.  They said obscene things like ‘good for you’ and ‘you go, girl’. They had absolutely no idea what they were saying.  She tried desperately to correct them, to make them stop, but between their well-meaning cheerfulness and her profoundly frustrating inability to talk, she felt trapped.  Again. Still.  

But Mouse understood.  He’d shocked everyone, himself most of all, by remaining entirely stable and present despite the similarities between what had happened to him and what had happened to Laura.  He was there with her, and for her, every moment, showering her with love and care.  He’d actually taken a leave of absence from his job to take care of her.  And he could care for her in a way that few others could, because he understood what it was to be forced to kill someone.  

It wasn’t a matter of pride.  It wasn’t a good thing.  It was a filthy stain that couldn’t be washed clean no matter how honorable or necessary the cause.  As a soldier, he’d known that he might be called upon to kill.  But he understood that Laura, as a nurse whose entire focus had been to heal people, had never prepared for this.  Cops sometimes had to kill, but that was rare and she’d been a cop for such a short time that she’d never seriously had to consider the possibility.  He got it. And he would carry her through this if he could.  

The first thing he’d done was simply to stay with her, through the long day and night following her attack.  He found ways to touch her without hurting her, soothing her with his presence and closeness as much as her wretched condition would allow.  The second had been to get her a computer tablet, with a full keyboard plus a large library of emojis, so that she could communicate.  She had done what she could to express her profound gratitude, given the severe limitations on her ability to even hold his hand and the impossibility of making any discernable facial expressions.  She wasn’t surprised to see that Mouse, such a good listener and friend, had seen that the ability to communicate was her greatest need at the moment.

Her second greatest need was something Ethan Choi hadn’t anticipated.  Almost the first thing she laboriously typed with one finger of her right hand when Mouse gave her the tablet was that she didn’t want the narcotics she was being given to keep her as comfortable as possible.  She was terrified of going back to her old self, a slave to addiction wreaking destruction on everything good in her life.  She simply would not accept that receiving necessary medication and feeding an addiction were not the same thing.  Fiercely stubborn and determined to control something at this moment in her life, Laura had been relentless in refusing narcotics.  

Finally, in desperation, Ethan had done something he seriously questioned, but felt coerced into trying.  He asked Will Halstead for help.

“You hate her, she hates you.  I get that.  I get why. But listen, she is going to die if she tries to do this without pain meds.  You know that.  She can’t start to heal if she’s using all her energy to fight pain.  And nobody can get through to her.  Please.  I’m down to my last option here.”

Will wasn’t the least bit happy about what he was being asked to do.  He understood the problem and he understood that something had to give if she was to survive.  But his antipathy for Laura Parker ran so deep he actually had trouble caring whether she lived or died.  Still, in the end, he was a doctor.  If a patient - even nasty, mouthy, weak Laura Parker – needed help, he had to help.  It was that simple.

Unsurprisingly, the first thing she’d typed when he’d entered her room was “GTFO.”  

“Yeah, I’d like to, believe me.  But Ethan asked me to come in and talk to you, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

She shook her head vehemently and made a strangled noise that was clearly her shouting at him to leave her room.

“Ok, look.  Just let me say what I have to say and I’ll get out.  I won’t come in here again, I swear.  Just hear me out.”

She looked away from him and blew a snort of air from her nose.  

“You and I are never going to agree about addiction.  We both know that.  And we’re never going to be friends.  But I think we can agree about one thing, and that is that these injuries you have?  They hurt like a motherfucker.  Right?”

She shrugged, still not looking at him.

“You were a nurse.  You know how destructive pain can be.  Can we agree on that?”

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t disagree.

“You wanna walk out of here?”

She turned to him, but was unable to move her swollen face to give him the look of disgust she tried to.  Instead, she typed a middle finger emoji.

“I’ll take that as a yes.  Well, there’s a long road between here and there.  Agreed?”

She reluctantly nodded, staring down at her sheets rather than looking at him.

“You want to crawl down that road, or you want to ride?  Your call. You refuse medication that you know you need, and you’re choosing to make your recovery twice as hard as it needs to be.  And let’s be straight – it’s gonna be a bitch no matter how you slice it.”

Will dropped his voice and squatted down at the side of her bed so that their faces were closer.  “So what I’m here to say is, you know how I feel about… the things that happened.  But the whole reason I’m the one Ethan sent is because even I am telling you that you should let him give you whatever it takes to control your pain.  And if I’m telling you to take narcotics…”

She flicked her eyes up to his and slowly, reluctantly, gave a slight nod.  

“Can I tell Ethan you’ll let him be the doctor?”

She typed another middle finger emoji.

He grinned, the first time he’d grinned at something she’d said in several years.  “I’ll take that as another yes.”

He started to get up, but she made a noise that stopped him.  When she had his attention, she typed, “Thanks.”

He was surprised.  She hadn’t said anything nice to him since – he couldn’t even remember the last time.  For just a moment, he was able to see her as a gravely wounded patient who had been a friend at one time.  “You take care of yourself, OK?”

She nodded.  He lightly touched the splinted fingers of her left hand.  In a soft, kind voice, he said, “I was always a better guitar player than you, but I’ll look forward to seeing you playing again.   Not hearing you, you know, but…”

She typed another middle finger emoji.  He smiled and left the room.

[whipplefilter]

Hi! I love Cars but one thing that's baffled me recently is what, exactly, causes McQueen to crash in 3. Does he blow a tire? Does he blow both back tires at the same time or is it some other mechanical failure? In Cars they make it pretty clear when LMQ loses a tire (tire visibly bursts, there's a noise) but in 3 it's just a shot of wiggly right tire, and then a focus on left rear tire before both start giving off smoke followed by LMQ crashing. Wondering if u could help clear it up for me.

I am here for you!!!!! These kinds of speculative questions are my favorite kinds of questions! :D In Cars 1, Lightning blows his tires in spectacular fashion in the would-be Championship race. His crash in Cars 3 is a little different–the tires don’t straight up explode, but they do appear to go flat. 

This is some wild tire deformity right here, and not just because he’s turning I don’t think. There’s waaay too much sidewall, and you can see it’s sorta concave. That thing is toast! D: This is the right rear, but we see the left rear smoke first, so it’s possible that one also goes down.

It doesn’t explode until Lightning makes contact with the wall, but Lightning’s also going so fast when the flat occurs that the sudden dramatic loss of tire pressure causes him to get loose, and lose control–which sends him into the wall.

So what happened to the tire(s)?

I wanna offer two possible scenarios:

1. “Using your stuff up.” If you’re racing really hard, just flat out, you’re generating a ton of heat–in your brakes, in the air in your tires, your engine, etc. If you’re a race leader and your spotter tells you someone is trying to chase you down, sometimes you’ll hear the leader say “let him use his stuff up.” It’s far more taxing on a far to march its way up the field–through dirty air, and having to maneuver around other cars–than it is to run up front, where the air is “clean” and you don’t have to deal with anyone else’s turbulence. This is essentially what Lightning is doing after Storm and like half the field pass him. Sometimes you’ll be able to feel something going and back it down, let the temps come down. But sometimes no matter what you do, something just goes and there’s very little warning and nothing you can do about it. 

Given that Lightning just got new tires and had just pitted, though, I’m not sure that’s the most likely scenario, though at the same time it’s totally 100% believable. The air pressures could have been off in the new tires, and once heated the air inside might have generated too much pressure, resulting in a flat. (And who knows, maybe at the Carsverse LA Speedway they use tires with an inner liner, which allows a tire to stay partially “up” even when they go flat, like a second chance at life, thereby increasing the chances of that car not flying into oblivion, for all that that helped Lightning here.)

The second scenario I’m actually really interested in. Up until this ask I hadn’t thought much about the crash happened beyond my primal shrieking!

But right before we see any hint of smoke, and before Lightning realizes anything is wrong, we see that he’s at the beginning of a turn:

So it’s possible that–

2. Lightning missed the turn. Generally speaking, when you’re racing, you want to brake before the turn. You don’t want to slow down too early, but you want to brake right before, be at the speed you wanna be at in the turn. (Braking and turning at the same time reduces traction, and you want all the grip you can get. I imagine riding the brakes through a turn at race speed would also heat them up real quick, which you also don’t want.)

If you miss your braking point and have to brake hard to try to get yourself at the speed you want to be in the turn, you can lock up the wheels. This happens because the grip of the brake pads exceeds the grip of the tires on the road, which makes them stop spinning, all at once. When you brake, weight shifts to the front of the car–and more weight means more grip, and less weight means grip. 

So if weight shifts to the front, that means the rears have less grip. And if the rears have less grip, then it’s all the more likely that if you brake too hard your brakes are gonna have more grip than your tires on the road. 

Once you lock up the wheels, your tires are skidding in one spot against asphalt, which is what causes the smoke. 

This wears them down quickly in that one spot, which causes flatspotting. That is, literally a flat spot on a tire that is supposed to be round.  (A quick clarification: a flat spot is part of the tire’s tread eroded to be flat like a pancake. A flat tire is when the tire loses air from inside of it.) 

In Lightning’s case, it seems like it might also have literally given him a flat tire (or two). That’s the moment you see his eyes go wide, and he realizes something is wrong. 

And I do think it was the tires and not some other mechanical failure, because I think a mechanical failure would hurt them. Lightning didn’t look hurt–just surprised, and then dismayed. Because then he gets loose, can’t regain control, and slams into the outside wall. 

And that hurts.

It’s possible the tire pressures were off, or they just failed, as tires do. It’s possible Lightning pressed them too hard, and they failed on him. But now that I’ve gone through the footage more attentively I think the culpability might rest more squarely on Lightning himself: I think he made a mistake. 

He missed his braking point, got into the turn too fast, tried to compensate, locked his wheels, lost control, and paid a heavy price. D;

But I don’t want to end on such a dour note. One thing this does say about Lightning is that he doesn’t agonize over his mistakes. In the first movie when he couldn’t make the turn on dirt, he ranted nonstop about his “perfect turns on every track I’ve ever raced on”–he was used to perfection and he was obsessed with his failure. 

While that’s not necessarily a bad quality to have, since excellence is not such a bad thing to strive for and it certainly motivated him, I think it’s so important to come back to the fact that as he was moping in Doc’s garage, he wasn’t focusing specifically on mistakes he made, or his crash itself–he was worried about the business side of things. So he missed the turn–whatever. He’s probably done it before (albeit with softer consequences). He’s not obsessing over his mistakes, or worrying he’s going to make a mistake again. (It’s racing. It’s gonna happen. Nobody is actually perfect.) He just knows he needs to get faster. It’s a minute distinction but an important one. 

Even before Cars 3 gets going, Lightning has already grown to the point where he’s confident not because he thinks he’s perfect but because he recognizes that he is going to make mistakes–but he’s not going to dwell on them. He’s going to move on, keep pushing forward. Never look back.

[heathergraves]

Personal Ramble. Idk how long this will be... probably long.

Anyways, what I feel is random, I am in the middle of watching a YouTube video that was recommended to me when I opened the app on my PS4. It’s titled “EX BOYFRIEND TAG” and I saw Davey Suicide in the thumbnail. Truthfully, I’ve never listened to a Davey Suicide song in my life. But I have been following him off and on on Instagram for some time now. So I suppose that alone intrigued me to watch the video.

My ramble here isn’t so much about that video specifically, but rather the genre of musicians Davey belongs to and what that represents to me. If that makes sense? Either way it got me thinking rather introspectively. More specifically about when I first became active here on tumblr. I entered the tumblr world during the summer of 2012. But didn’t really become super active till 2013. Once I really got my footing on this site/app and figuring out how to get more traction on posts, it really changed me. And I’m sure it’s similar for anyone who experienced this for the first time. I felt myself becoming so much more confident and free. I was always doing make up and altering my clothes to become this person I wanted people to see me as. I very much lived by the philosophy of “fake it till you make it”, in regards to my confidence/self-esteem. And I really seemed to be succeeding at it because back then there were days I’d get 50 new followers within the hour. Not only that but it lead me to interact with/receive attention from a few musicians that I looked up to. And damn did that make me feel good. To this day, if I shoot them a message they will respond happily. And a couple are still following me on IG.

This level of confidence carried on for quite some time. But... somewhere along the way, it began to dwindle and I became less active on here. I started losing followers on IG by the handful. And I didn’t know why my confidence in myself had begun to sink. I’d say it was 2015 this began to significantly happen.

I find myself sometimes now thinking to myself “Hey, maybe I could do some cool make up look tonight. Maybe incorporate some of my awesome high quality FX blood. Just like I used to!”. But yet, I remain mindlessly glued to my TV. My TV that is running through the same cycle of shows I’ve watched more times than any human should in their lives. And idk what is gonna give me the kick in the pants I need to find my way back to my creativity. I suppose I decided to vent this all out here cause this is where it all began for me. And I don’t just want to get back to that level of confidence for the sake of the attention or the interaction with musicians. Or whatever. I just wanna feel that good about myself again. To look in the mirror again and think more than just “eh..”