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lucy90712 · 11 months ago

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Christmas at home- Pablo Gavi

WC: 2.6k A/n: in this story Gavi never got injured so he's still playing with the team

Christmas has always been an interesting topic of discussion in mine and Pablo's relationship. When we first got together it was right at the start of November so we spent Christmas with our own families that year and last year we spent it with Pablo's family. This year we are going to see my family which has taken a lot of planning as my family don't live in Spain I'm just there to study so we had to book flights and see how long Pablo could be away for before he had to go back to training. We had everything sorted then the club decided to play a friendly in Dallas right after the last league game which ruined our plans a bit. Now instead of coming with me when I go home Pablo has to go to the states and then back to Barcelona and from there he's coming to see me and my family.

I went home the day after Pablo's last league match and have enjoyed spending time with my family but I have been waiting for the day that he finally arrives as we don't get much quality time together so having him for the holidays is always my favourite parts of the year. All last night I couldn't sleep waiting for Pablo to text saying he'd got on the plane but instead I got a text saying his flight was cancelled and he's was having to get another later flight. This later flight would mean he's not landing until this afternoon which would be fine if we weren't supposed to go to a big family gathering at my grandmas house. Every year my grandma gets everyone in the family to come round a few days before Christmas so we can all celebrate together and I was so excited for Pablo to come and meet the rest of my family that he hasn't met before but now I don't think he'll make it. I was also supposed to collect him from the airport but he told me not to and that he'd find another way there.

As much as I tried to hide my disappointment my parents could tell straight away that something was bothering me. To start with I refused to tell them what was up as I didn't want to ruin everyone's day plus there's nothing they can do so I just wanted to deal with it myself. Eventually though I could feel myself getting more and more upset so I decided it would be best to confide in my mum just to get my feelings out.

"Whats wrong sweetheart?" My mum asked as I sat down next to her

"Pablo's flight was cancelled now he's not coming until later so he's going to miss the gathering at grandma's and I can't even go and get him from the airport" I explained

"I'm sorry honey I know you wanted him to meet the rest of the family but at least he can get here still you'll still get to see him today just later" my mum said trying to make me feel better

"I know it's just I told everyone Pablo would be here and now they are going to think he's a bad boyfriend" I said

"Well you can explain the situation and if some people don't get it that's ok me and your dad love Pablo and we know he treats you so well and eventually everyone will get to see that whether it's now or another time" she said

"Thanks mum that makes me feel a bit better" I said

She gave me a hug and then we set off to my grandmas which isn't too far luckily. The entire car journey I was texting Pablo and just before we arrived I gave him the address of my grandma's place just in case he arrived in time to meet us there but I don't think his flight will land in time. Once we did arrive though I put my phone away and promised myself I wouldn't check it again until we left as I want to spend quality time with my family and not worry about how long it will be until Pablo gets here.

After going in and seeing everyone I felt so much better my grandma greeted me with a big hug and took me off to the living room to tell the family what I had been up to as apparently I now lead the most interesting life out of everyone so they all want to hear how my life has been. Luckily I remembered to bring some things with me to give my younger cousins who are all obsessed with football, Pablo wanted to give the stuff to them but seeing a he's not here I did it for him. Everyone ended up crowded around my phone as I showed them pictures of the places I'd been and some of the amazing matches I'd been to.

At these gatherings we always have a big family dinner and because I missed last year I've really been looking forward to today as there's nothing quite like homemade food from your grandparents. Being one of the oldest grandchildren I'm usually tasked with helping set the table and bring in the food which when I was younger I hated but now I like getting to be a part of everything plus I can get some of my cousins to help if I promise them more dessert. As we all sat down I felt a few people staring at me which made me feel a little uncomfortable but I just continued to eat and talk to the people sat next to me.

"Y/n I wanted to ask didn't you say your boyfriend was coming for Christmas this year?" My uncle asked

"Umm yeah he will be he had a match to play over in the US and he was supposed to fly in today but his flight got cancelled so he's arriving a bit later than expected I wanted to bring him here but things just didn't work out" I explained

"He's rich could he not have got a private jet if he really wanted to be here" my aunt said

"It's not that easy and he's not like a millionaire he really wanted to be here but the situation is out of his control one day I'll bring him to meet you all" I said trying not to show how annoyed I was feeling at the interrogation

Just as everyone else was about to continue berating Pablo and our relationship the doorbell rang so I excused myself to answer it as I happened to be seated closest to the door. I was drowning in my own thoughts to the point that when I opened the door I didn't even pay any attention to who was stood there and just said hello like I would to anyone stood at the door. It was only when I heard the person stood in front of me speak that I really paid attention and once my eyes confirmed what my ears heard I freaked out.

"Is that how you're going to greet me after I've just rushed here to see you" Pablo laughed

"Oh my god you're here you made it" I smile jumping into his arms

"I did make it there was one free seat on an earlier flight and I managed to get it thanks to the airport manager knowing who I was and now I'm here" he explained

"What's wrong you don't seem very happy I thought you were excited to come here" he questioned

"I was but just now everyone was questioning how much you actually cared about me and our relationship" I admitted

"I'm sorry amor this is my fault if I was here earlier they wouldn't be so mean but I can show them now how much I really love you" he said

He left his suitcase by the door and gave me a quick kiss before I led him through to where all my family were sat. There was a long silence as everyone realised that they were wrong about Pablo. I knew from the second they all met him they'd love him as everyone does you can pretend to hate him but deep down there's no way anyone can't not like Pablo he's just too sweet. My mum pulled up a spare chair next to mine so Pablo could sit and I got him some food as I know he'll be hungry. He didn't get much chance to eat though as everyone wanted to ask him a million questions but he didn't seem to care at all he was more than happy to talk to everyone especially my cousins who were so excited to have a footballer as part of the family.

Dinner went a lot smoother with Pablo there and everyone apologised to me for thinking that Pablo wasn't a good boyfriend. In fact so many of my aunts and uncles as well as older cousins told me how lovely Pablo was and how obvious it was that he was that he was completely in love with me which was really nice to hear. I know Pablo loves me but to hear others say that they can tell just by watching us makes me happy as sometimes I get a bit insecure as Pablo and I don't exactly lead the same lives and I always worry he'll find someone better. We had a great time for the next few hours until it was time to go and everyone said their goodbyes and I had to make a promise to come home more often. I expected Pablo to be exhausted after so much traveling in just a few days but to my surprise he stayed awake for the entire car journey back to my parents talking to them while holding my waist and letting my head rest against his shoulder. Once I had helped him unpack Pablo wanted to go straight to bed so that's what we did but not before he smothered me in kisses.

~~~~~~~~~~

Most days I am woken up by Pablo's alarm as he gets up ridiculously early every morning but this morning was different. Just before my eyes opened I could feel something trailing up and down my side and as my eyes began to open I felt soft kisses being pressed to my neck and cheek. Being woken up by kisses I think might be by favourite way to wake up especially on Christmas and at home with my family. As soon as Pablo noticed that my eyes were open he pulled me on top of him and held me close like we hadn't seen each other in months even though it was just a few hours ago before we went to sleep.

"Merry Christmas preciosa" Pablo whispered

"Merry Christmas guapo" I whispered back

"How long were you waiting for me to wake up?" I asked

"Not too long you are a quite a light sleeper at times although I did spend a bit longer staring at you" he said

"Staring at me while I'm asleep that's a bit creepy don't you think" I laughed

"You just look so pretty I can't help it" he smiled

We joked around for a few more minutes before I rolled off of Pablo and out of bed pulling him up with me once my feet hit the ground. We both got changed into Christmas pyjamas as thats a tradition my family have we spend the day in Christmas pyjamas and seeing as it's Pablo's first Christmas with us my mum gave us both new matching ones to wear. Of course I had to take a few pictures of us in our matching pyjamas one of which I secretly sent to the rest of the team as I knew they'd like to see the pictures and tease Pablo about it. When we made our way downstairs the Christmas tree lights were already on and I could smell food cooking in the kitchen which meant my parents were already up and preparing for later. They greeted us both with a merry Christmas and we did the same before sitting down to enjoy the breakfast that had been made for us.

After breakfast it was time to open presents but as soon as I started sorting through the presents Pablo sprinted upstairs and came back downstairs with his stacked with presents. He handed a few of them to my parents then put the rest in front of me which earned him a glare as I told him not to get me too much but clearly he didn't listen. My parents opened their presents from Pablo first and he nailed it he got them both things they really liked. He refused to let me open any of my presents from him until last so everyone opened their other presents first then finally I was allowed to open mine.

Pablo really spoiled me. He got me the perfume I like, loads of new clothes from brands I could just tell were expensive even without knowing what they were. He also got me a really pretty dress which he told me was for a date that we were going to go on before we leave to go back to Barcelona. There was also lots of books as he knows I like to read and some new baking supplies as I'm always trying out new recipes and he's always trying what I make even though he says he shouldn't. Pablo got me so many things but when I thought I had finally opened them all he pulled out a small present from behind his back and handed it to me. The look on his face didn't really give anything away so I just took the wrapping paper off which left me with a little jewellery box. Inside the box was the prettiest gold ring with three tiny little diamonds across the top giving it a bit of sparkle but not too much at the same time. Pablo gently took the ring out of the box for me and then held my hand which made me look up at him.

"This is a promise ring I want you to have it because I know you're the one for me and in a few years I'll replace that with a real engagement ring but for now I want you to be able to wear this and be able to look at your hand at any time and know that I'm there for you and I love you more than words can describe" he said sliding the ring in my finger

"Thank you so much Pablo this ring is beautiful" I replied shakily trying not to cry

"A beautiful ring for the most beautiful girl I've ever met I know there are times that you don't feel that statement is true but I promise you are the only girl for me and this ring is there to remind you of that" he added

"I love you so much thank you" I said finally letting a few tears escape my eyes

"I love you more and don't even try to fight me on that" he laughed while wiping my tears

Of course my parents were both so happy for us and my mum had to take pictures of the both of us and of the ring to send to the rest of the family and Pablo sent some to his friends so my phone was blowing up for the rest of the day. I ignored it though as I was having such wonderful time playing board games and eating far too much food to really care about what was going on with my phone. This Christmas has been all I could've wished for getting to spend it with my family and my boyfriend at home has made for one of the best Christmases I have ever had and now I can't wait to do this again a few years down the road.

#gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi imagines #gavi #football imagine

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yellowhollyhock · 4 months ago

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for and inspired by @majachee

The differences in approach to Raphael in Mirage and 1987 and their influence on archie

(I have not read all of Mirage or Archie, this is my impressions so far)

Mirage Raph: he’s got a big heart. I really think that’s the most succinct all-encompassing way of putting it. His emotions take up a lot of space.

Sometimes literally.

He’s always eager to help. When they meet that survivalist group, he’s the one to suggest Don could disable the bomb. When the time traveler girl/creature shows up, he’s the first to speak up that he’d like to help. And during the big Raph and Leo fight, it’s Raph who’s eager to return to New York. His heart is wide open to anyone in need.

He’s energetic. He loves fighting, it’s the first thing we learn about him. He hates leeches, but still tries to be kind to one in his demutation arc. Also, he loves to be outside! In the very first issue he spells it out; he hates being underground, loves the chance to be out in the city (when he’s delivering the challenge message to Shredder).

Stir crazy. Just a hyper gold-hearted teen whose hobby is roughhousing. Him and Mikey love to roughhouse so much in mirage. Unlike in later iterations, it never (to my knowledge) seems to start as or escalate into a fight, they just both love to do it. They do annoy others with their noise and breaking of furniture, but they both just love spending that time together.

But let’s not let any of that bring our attention away from the violence. He loves violence.

He’s like if the monster in your closet was a teddy bear, who could also kill you. On your side, he’s a big softie. But if you’re not on his side you may as well be a dead ant.

The duality of Raphael, which will influence future iterations of the red turtle for decades to come—but just a couple years down the road:

1987 Raphael

Does not want to help (this is an unfair oversimplification but compared to mirage Raph. He's more like mirage Don in the 'but do we have to though? have you considered we could die? okay just checking')

Does not like violence. Sure he can fight, he even can be a bit of a daredevil under the exact right circumstances, but mostly he prefers to hang back as much as possible.

He likes costumes and jokes. He does not seem particularly fond of animals. He loves being dramatic but like in a lowkey way.

He’s just tagging along with his bros making sarcastic remarks asdflkjkj (this is like literally the inverse of mirage Raph who likes solo missions; he’s on missions because he doesn’t want to be solo)

Also, as opposed to mirage Raph who’s got a very strong sense of who he is and leans into it, 87 Raphael is insecure about not having a ‘thing’ he contributes to the team. That’s why he takes up disguises.

It’s like this. Mirage Raph is your uncle who’s had too much to drink before the party even starts, who doesn’t realize how loud he’s talking or how aggressive he’s coming across as he tells about his adventures either last week or throughout his childhood. Other relatives keep trying to hint to him that the things he shares aren’t appropriate in front of little kids, but he’s just like ‘oh you’re right there’s kiddos, come on gather round you guys will like this one’ and then tells a worse story. He’s also the only relative the skittish shelter dog your grandma just brought home will trust. He’s brought you a blanket with your favorite video game character on it, mindful of your texture sensitivity. It’s not your birthday, it’s just cause.

87 Raphael is your closeted gay cousin who’s got such an intense fixation on Bugs Bunny your aunt’s getting worried. As far as the adults are concerned he doesn’t seem to cause too much trouble but he’s always around when you’re doing something you shouldn’t, rarely tattles but always threatens to and uses this to get you to buy him things, or do his chores, or save him the good seat at the table or cheat for him at game night or whatever. He knows all the family secrets and has something scathing to say about everything ever, whether how lame a family activity is or why on earth your dad bought a truck that color or what were they thinking making the post office out of brick. He’s gonna be in a play this fall, he’s trying not to tell anyone but your aunt really insists you come see him.

All of this to say, here’s why archie is the way he is

And by the way he is… hm. How does one begin to explain archie Raph

He’s very often the turtle taking initiative. That comes from Mirage. He sees an opening and goes for it. He really does seem to enjoy fighting, and is happy to go off on a solo mission if it seems exciting or is gonna get the threat taken care of faster. But he does also sort of roll his eyes? Like ugh we’re gonna go out and fight again. Ugh stupid bad guys now I have to beat them up when I could be home eating pizza. What do you mean what did we learn ugh Splinter ugh.

He’s just. Idk he’s so broody. I think I’m mostly basing this on his expressions? Maybe what I’ve heard from the future arc that I haven’t read yet? I can’t pin down why he seems broody to me but I can’t think of a better word for him.

He’s got the love of violence and the deadpan sense of humor. The ‘let me just get this done solo’ and the ‘please do not separate me from my brothers.’ The impulsive trembling with excitement looking for a chance to strike fighter in him from his mirage counterpart, and the obsession with clothes from his 1987 counterpart.

Seriously, even though it kind of annoys me for reasons I can’t begin to explain, one of my favorite things about this Raph is his freaking costumes. The archie writers really looked at warm-hot-dangerous-sweetheart mirage Raph and complainer-comedian-Some Guy-queer coded 87 Raphael and said ‘you know what these two have in common? Black clothes. Maybe a hooded cloak.’

And yeah that tracks, right? If rambunctious uncle and gay cousin are somehow gonna be the same guy, he is the ultimate Emo. Emo Aunt.

(accidentally created a little family of Raphael allegories kjhskjdf)

so basically

#for some reason i was really worried about how long this is #but now that i'm looking at it as a post it's really not that long #anyway #tmnt #tmnt raph #1987 raphael #archie raph #mirage raph #tw alcohol

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layce2015 · 2 years ago

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

The Benders

Masterlist

"I know you’re just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already. I don’t see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it’s true." Mrs McKay said to us as Sam, Dean and I were now posing as state policemen. We came here cause a man had gone missing under suspicious circumstances and that Mrs McKay's son had seen what happened.

"Mrs. McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities." I said as we take off of our hats. "But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so…." Dean said, shrugging. "Don’t worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan. You just tell us what you saw." Sam said to the young boy.

"I was up late, watching TV. When I heard this weird noise." Evan explained. "What did it sound like?" I asked him. "It sounded like….a monster." He replied and the boys and I exchange a look. "Tell the officers what you were watching on TV." Mrs McKay said to him. "Um...Godzilla Vs. Mothra." Evan said and Dean smiles.

"That’s my favorite Godzilla movie. It’s so much better than the original, huh?" Dean said to Evan, excitedly. "Totally." Evan said, smiling. "Yeah." Dean said then he nods towards Sam. "He likes the remake." Dean said. "Yuck!" Evan said, disgusted, while I shake my head and Sam glares at Dean and clears his throat at him.

"Evan, did you see what this thing was?" I asked him. "No. But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car." Evan said. "Then what?" Sam asked him. "It took him away. I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound." Evan said.

"What did it sound like, Evan?" I asked him. "Like this…whining growl." He replied and Sam, Dean and I exchange another look. "Thanks for your time." Sam said to them and we walk out.

That night at Kugel’s Keg, Sam and I were having a beer at a table, doing some research while Dean was throwing darts. "So, local police have now ruled out foul play. Apparently, there were signs of a struggle." Sam said. "Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig." Dean said, shrugging. "Yeah, maybe not. Except for this—Dad marked the area, Dean." Sam said and Dean comes to the table and looks at their father’s journal.

"Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker." Sam said. "Why would he even do that?" Dean asked. "Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too—this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state." I said. "That is weird." Dean mutters. "Yeah." Sam and I said.

"Don’t phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot." Dean said. "Well, there are all kinds. You know, Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime. Look, guys, I don’t know if this is our kind of gig either." Sam said. "Yeah, you’re right, we should ask around more tomorrow." I said and Sam nods. "Right." He said as he takes out his wallet.

"I saw a motel about five miles back." He said and Dean holds a hand out. "Whoa, whoa, easy. Let’s have another round." He said to Sam. "We should get an early start." Sam said. "Ah, c'mon, Sammy." I pleaded. "Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandma?" Dean asked and Sam smiles.

"Alright, I’ll meet you guys outside, I gotta take a leak." Dean said and he grabs his coat and heads to the bathroom. Sam and I gather up his research then I turn to Sam. "I'm gonna use the bathroom too. Meet you outside." I said and Sam nods as I hand him his stuff and I head to the bathroom.

Minutes later, I walk out of the bar and see Dean by the car looking around, confused. "Dean?" I said as I walk up to him. "What's wrong?" I asked him. "Sam's not here. He left his stuff on the hood." Dean said. "He's not in the car?" I asked him and he shakes his head and begins to walk around the parking lot and I join him.

Then a group of people, who seem really drunk, come out of the bar and we walk up to them. "Hey, you guys been outside, around here in the last hour or so?" Dean asked them and they shake their heads and walk away.

"Sam!" I shout as we look around frantically. "Sammy!" Dean shouts as I turn around and notice a surveillance camera on top of a streetlight. Then Dean and I walk into the middle of the deserted road and look around as we said, with fear. "Sam."

"So, what can we do for you and your partner, Officer Washington?" Deputy Kathleen asked us after she looked at our fake IDs. We thought maybe the local police could help us with Sam as we couldn't find him at all last night. We introduced ourselves as Officer Greg Washington and Officer Joan Miller.

"We're working a missing persons." Dean replied. "I didn’t know the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police." Kathleen said to us. "Oh, no. No, there’s someone else." I said.

"Actually, it’s my cousin. We were havin’ a few last night at this bar down by the highway. And we haven’t seen him since." Dean said. "Does your cousin have a drinking problem?" She asked us. "Sam? Two beers and he’s doin’ karaoke." I said, jokingly, and she smiles. "No, he wasn’t drunk. He was taken." I said. Kathleen nods and sits down at her computer. Dean and I follow her and sit across from her.

"Alright. What’s his name?" She asked. "Winchester. Sam Winchester." Dean replied and she looks up at us. "Like the rifle?" She asked. "Like the rifle." We said in unison. She types Sam’s name in the computer and brings up his police record.

She observes the page, then clicks on something and reads whatever popped on her computer. "Samuel Winchester. So, you two know that his brother, Dean Winchester, died in St. Louis. And, uh, was suspected of murder." She said as she looks up at us. I glance over at Dean as he tries to look nonchalant.

"Yeah, Dean. Kind of the black sheep of the family. Handsome, though." Dean said and I rolled my eyes. "Debatable." I said and Dean narrows his eyes at me and I give a smirk then stuck my tongue out at him as Kathleen types something else on the computer. "Well, he’s not showing up in any current field reports." She said. "Oh, we already have a lead. Joan, here, saw a surveillance camera by the highway." Dean said as he gestures to me.

"Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?" She asked. "Right. Yeah. We were thinking the camera picked up whatever took him. Or, whoever." I said. "Well, I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county works department, but—well, anyhow, let’s do this the right way." Kathleen said and she stands up and gets some paperwork from a filing cabinet.

"Why don’t you fill out a missing persons report and sit tight over here?" She said as she hands Dean a clipboard.

"Officer, look, uh, he’s family. I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let us go with you." Dean pleads. "I’m sorry, I can’t do that." She said and she starts to turn away. "Well, tell me something." I said and she turns to me. "Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of ‘em come back?" I asked her and she gives me a sad look.

"Sam’s our responsibility. And he’s comin’ back. We're bringin’ him back." Dean said and she stares at us.

Later, we were sitting on a bench outside as Dean's leg bounced a bit. "Hey..." I said to him as I placed a hand on his shoulder. He looks over at me and I could tell he had a worried look on his face. "We'll find him." I assured him and he nods just as Kathleen comes up, holding some printouts.

"Greg. Joan." She calls out and we stands up. "I think we’ve got something." She said and she hands us the printouts and we look through them. "These traffic cams take an image every three seconds, as part of the Amber Alert program. These images were all taken around the time that your cousin, Sam, disappeared." She said as we see just a bunch of pictures of either empty roads or some passing cars

"This really isn’t what we're looking for." Dean said as he flips through the pictures and I look over at the. "Just wait, wait—next one." Kathleen said and Dean turns the page and we see an image of a rusty truck driving. "This one was taken right after Sam left the bar. Look at the back end of that thing." She said and we do and see the license plates.

"Now, look at the plates." She said and he turns another page and we see a close-up image of the truck’s license plates. "Oh, the plates look new. It’s probably stolen." I said and Kathleen nods. "So, whoever’s driving that rust bucket must be involved." She said just as we hear a whining noise.

Dean and I turned around and see a beat-up van driving by. "Hear that engine?" Dean asked. "Yeah." Kathleen said as I nod and watch the old van. "Kind of a whining growl, isn’t it?" I asked. "Sure." She said as Dean and I stare at the van as it drives away. "I’ll be damned." I hear Dean mutter then he and I exchange a look.

"Okay, the next traffic cam is fifty miles from here, and the pickup didn’t pass that one, so…." Kathleen said as she drives her cop car and Dean sits in the front seat and I sit in the back. "So, it must’ve pulled off somewhere. I didn’t see any other roads here." I said and Dean nods. "Yeah, neither did I." He said. "Well, a lot of these backwoods properties have their own private roads." She said and Dean sighs at this. "Great." I said, annoyed, as I stare out the window.

We sat there in silence for a few moments until Kathleen speaks up. "So, guys." She said and Dean and I turn to look at her. "Yeah?" We said. "I ran both of your badge numbers. It’s routine when we’re working a case with state police. For accounting purposes and what have you." She said and I started to bite my lips.

"Mmhmm." Dean hums. "And, uh, they just got back to me." She said and she pulls the car over to the side of the road. "It says here both of your badges were stolen." She said and we look at her surprised.

"And there’s a picture of you." She said as she turns the computer to Dean, where we see a picture of a heavy African-American man.

"And there's a picture of you too." She said and she shows me a picture of an old woman with grey hair. "I lost some weight. And I got that Michael Jackson skin disease." Dean chuckles. "And I dyed my hair and use lots of make-up." I explain as she takes off her seatbelt.

"Okay, would you two step out of the car, please?" She asked us. "Look, look, look." Dean and I said and she stops. "If you wanna arrest us, that’s fine. We’ll cooperate, I swear. But, first, please—let us find Sam." Dean pleads to her. "I don’t even know who you two are. Or if this Sam person is missing." She said. "Look into our eyes and tell us if we're lying about this." I said and she scoffs as she looks between us

"Identity theft? Both of you are impersonating a couple of officers." She exclaims. "Look, here’s the thing. When we were young, I pretty much pulled him from a fire. And ever since then, I’ve felt responsible for him. Like it’s my job to keep him safe. And she's been helping me in anyway she can. I’m just afraid if we don’t find him fast—" Dean said as his voice breaks. "Please....He’s our family." I plead to her.

"I’m sorry. You two have given me no choice. I have to take both of you in." She said then she glances at her visor. I look at it and see a photo of her and another man, smiling. She looks at it then sighs.

"After we find Sam Winchester." She said as she fastens her seatbelt. Dean looks at her, confused, then to me and I shrug at him as we begin to drive off.

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kurorinde · 12 days ago

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Robin's Midnight Records | No. 1 | friends with [deep dark secrets]

My dear friend who I miss and love so much,

How are you? I'm so sorry that I haven't written to you since.... May? Last year? A lot of life has happened since then, and it looks like I was already "going through it" aaaaaaa

Who am I if not going through it? Heh.

I guess I'll get to the point: I broke my heart twice in the span of a week and a half. First to kill my delusions, second to kill my denial.

Okay, so you stayed to read under the cut. As a reward, here's my deep dark secrets :D

In 2023, I had a purely delusional proximity crush on Joker. He would lowkey be in my space, like, all the time! I was also looking for a distraction from my close friendships that felt like they were failing. I promised myself that I would leave him in 2023, but that was a lie. I even had my first intervention after the girlies found out he was the latest in a timeline of bad crushes. And I only kept a timeline because I was trying to organize all these songs I'd written into chronological order. (But honestly, I didn't need to do that. There's no justification lol.)

Joker's my friend now and I don't get all dumb and weird around him anymore. I think. I'm just dumb and weird by myself lol. But if I'm being completely honest, the beginning of the end of the delusion was in May... when my california grandma passed. I used to feel so ashamed that it took an actual crisis for me to realize that he wasn't going to be the one to help me through a crisis.

I guess I'll talk about the Ace of it all now.

...

I mean, there's nothing really to say. He's been so far back in the plot, but I guess he's only relevant because ?????? idk his sister is my bestie tho. Love her. Oh, and my Grandma randomly brought him up recently. She was talking to my Sister about her new bf (yeah, that happened) and this was our convo:

Gma: Don't worry you'll find your second Prince Charming. Me: ???? Who was the first?????? Gma: The tall one but he's not here anymore.

And it was so weird because why, in the year 2024, is Ace being referenced by my Grandma???

Not even King?? He was more recent. And literally is the one that she would've liked the most. Maybe.

Okay, if I'm going to talk about King, let me start by talking about... J.

The realization that he could be reading this is hitting me, but it's honesty hour so whatever. (Hi J! <3)

Also! For those who have been following these life updates, the "J" in moonrise chronicles 9 is now King. Just how the cards fell :)

So........ J. My dude. My bestie. How do I put this?

Yanno Promise by Laufey? The song I cried to when we heard it live? Yeah ummm... you're the boy standing out on Melrose Avenue.

This part is kinda confusing to put into words so here's a round of 2 truths, 1 partial lie:

"ok fine i borrowed ur bed" and "only for u babe": I was gathering dirt outside the arena and it was getting dark. Your base was the closest. And i was just matching your energy because you're literally the only one that gives me that attitude (endearingly).

"I never wanted that from you.": You said you weren't looking for a relationship, to which I replied with that phrase specifically. All I ever wanted was your friendship. And I was so sad after that whole conversation because I thought I lost it. i still think I lost it, and part of me thinks that this is going to make it worse. It's up to you. If being honest still means being messy, then I guess I'll have to live with that.

Which btw, I wasn't referring to myself when I asked you about friends being messy. I didn't want to drop names or specifics because those weren't important and I still wanted to protect our friends. I forgot to protect myself.

"thanks! bc same": You asked me if I had feelings and I couldn't give you a clear answer because I didn't know. I kept telling myself that, no, I didn't actually have feelings because I was just using you in place of King. And I hated myself for trying to make you a placeholder when I knew that you were so much more than that.

Sure, you two had similarities, but talking about them made me realize that literally everybody had those similarities. The difference was that you were my friend. He only ever talked to me when he needed me for something. You just talk to me. You have jokes and you take jokes. You never talk to me because you need me to do something or to be something.

Even though he was my friend the last time we saw each other, I knew that I had to let go of my idea of him. I used to feel so incapable of giving love and undeserving of receiving it. I felt like the most difficult person in the world to love, like it was impossible.

I'm still in the process of letting go (this is part of it), but I at least don't believe those things about myself as much as I used to.

So what's the true answer?

Yes, I did have the tiniest bit of feelings for you. However, I think they were misplaced and muddied by my internal demons. Do I have feelings now? No. I've been keeping you at a distance because I don't want you to be uncomfortable or confused thinking that I'm feeling something I'm not. I'll admit, I do miss our own brand of conversation. But if it's something I need to let go of too, I'll do it. These are the consequences of my indecision and joking and whatever else I'm trying to change about myself. For my own health but also so you, my friend(s) don't have someone so broken in your life.

I think that's everything. All cards on the table. It's also currently 2:08 AM.

Thank you for reading. And thank you for existing.

Take care, Robin

Currently listening to: friends with detriments (ch 3: you never needed me/all i ever wanted, the sunday interlude, ch 4: platonic blanket sharing)

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#boba post

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hmsimicollection · 4 months ago

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Becky vs. the Magic Stench: A Floral Fairytale Gone Funky

Alright, folks, gather 'round for a tale of misfortune, flowers, and a very questionable odor. This is the story of Becky, the sweetest, poorest girl this side of the Mississippi (and probably the other side too). Becky was stuck in a situation that would make even a cactus wilt: no job, no parents, and two younger sisters depending on her.

School? Fugeddaboutit. Becky was pounding the pavement faster than a lost flip flop, application after application getting denied like free samples at a health food store. Just when despair threatened to turn her hair into tumbleweeds, she stumbled upon an old lady selling flowers. This wasn't your average flower granny, though. No floral fanny packs here. This lady had a twinkle in her eye and a secret stash of stories that could rival your grandma's recipe box.

Fast forward a few sniffles and shared sunflower seeds, and Becky and the flower lady (let's call her Ms. Petal, because that's just delightful) are practically BFFs. Sadly, Ms. Petal gets a case of the sniffles that even a bouquet of lilies couldn't cure. So, Becky steps up, takes the flower cart by the handle, and starts slinging posies like a petal-powered pro.

One gloomy Tuesday, a mysterious woman with a mischievous glint offers Becky a deal that sounds ripped from a B-movie script. Wear this totally not suspicious shirt for 41 days straight, nonstop, and WHAM! Instant riches! Becky, desperate as a fly trapped in honey, throws caution (and hygiene) to the wind and dons the shirt.

Now, let me tell you, 41 days without a wash is enough to make a skunk faint. Becky smelled like a forgotten gym sock marinated in week-old fish. But hey, gotta suffer for riches, right?

Finally, the 41st day dawns, and Becky, with the gag reflex of a champion, peels off the shirt. Brace yourselves, folks, because this is where things get weird. Her house transforms into a mansion straight out of a fever dream, and Becky along with her sisters – poof! – turn into princesses! Talk about an olfactory glow-up!

News of the stench-to-staunchest transformation spreads faster than gossip at a hair salon. Before Becky can say "deodorant commercial," she's invited to the fanciest shindig in town, thrown by the richest dude around.

And that, my friends, is how Becky, the once-broke flower girl, found herself surrounded by caviar and canapés, all thanks to a questionable shirt and a whole lot of determination (and maybe a hefty dose of Febreze). So next time you're feeling down on your luck, remember Becky. Remember the stench. Remember that even the smelliest situations can blossom into something beautiful. Just maybe take a shower first.

Positive spin with a relatable anecdote:

This lighthearted story of Becky reminded me of the importance of perseverance! Sometimes the path to success can be a little unorthodox (and smelly!), but if we keep pushing forward, we can achieve great things. Who has a story of overcoming a challenge in an unexpected way?

Becky's story reminds me that sometimes the most valuable skills we learn aren't in a textbook. Her determination and ability to build relationships (with the flower lady and the mysterious woman) were key to her success. What unexpected skills have helped you in your career?

Becky's journey is a hilarious reminder that success can be smelly. But hey, if it gets you a mansion and a title, maybe a little BO is worth it? What are you willing to do to achieve your goals? (Besides wearing a magical shirt for 41 days, hopefully!)

#humor #careergoals #lifelonglearning #softsskills #persistence #entrepeneurlife #motivation #careerdevelopment #shopping #buynow #clothing

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aspenmissing · 1 year ago

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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

Y/N, Dean, and Sam are dressed as sheriffs, and they are talking to a boy and his mother.

"I know you're just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already. I don't see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it's true."

"Mrs. McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities," Sam says.

"But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so..." Dean adds.

"Don't worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan. You just tell us what you saw," Y/N says, smiling.

"I was up late, watching TV. When I heard the weird noise,

"What did it sound like?" Y/N asks.

"It sounded like... a monster," Dean, Sam, and Y/N exchange a look.

"Tell the officers what you were watching on TV."

"Godzilla vs. . Mothra," Dean and Y/N smile.

"That's our favourite Godzilla movie. It's so much better than the original, huh?" Dean says, gesturing between himself and Y/N.

"Totally," Evan says.

"Yeah," Y/N nods towards Sam. "He likes the remake."

"Yuck!" Sam glares at Y/N, and Dean just laughs. Sam clears his throat. She stops.

"Evan, did you see what this thing was?" Sam asks.

"No. But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car," Evan replies.

"Then what?"

"It took him away. I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound."

"What did it sound like, Evan?" Y/N asks.

"Like this... whining growl." The three siblings exchange another look.

"Thank you for your time."

Later that night in a bar, Sam is having a beer at a table, looking at research. Dean and Y/N are nearby, taking turns throwing darts.

"So, local police have now ruled out foul play. Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle."

"Well, they could be right; it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn't our kind of gig," Dean says as Y/N scores a bullseye and smirks at Dean.

"Yeah, maybe not. Except for one—Dad marked the area, guys." The two come to the table and look at their father's journal. "Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker."

"Why would he even do that?" Y/N asks.

"Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too—this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state."

"That is weird," Dean says.

"Yeah."

"Don't phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot."

"Well, there are all kinds. You know, Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime. Look, guys, I don't know if this is our kind of gig either."

"Yeah, you’re right; we should ask around more tomorrow."

"Right," Sam says, taking out his wallet. "I saw a motel about five miles back."

"Whoa, whoa, easy. Let's have another round," Y/N says.

"We should get an early start."

"Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don't you, Grandma?" Sam smiles. "Alright, I'll meet you two outside; I've gotta take a leak." Dean grabs his coat and heads to the bathroom. Sam gathers his research and leaves, while Y/N stays.

"You coming?"

"I'll be out soon, need to make sure Dean doesn't try and sneak an extra beer or two. Plus, I need to pay." Once outside, Sam walks back to the car. He hears a noise and stops. He places the journal on the hood of the car and takes out a flashlight from his coat pocket. He turns it on and looks around, then bends down to look under the car. He sees a cat, which hisses at him and then runs away.

"Whoa!" He sees the animal and laughs at himself. He gets up, shaking his head, then waits by the car for his siblings.

Minutes later. Dean and Y/N come out of the bar and walk to the car. They see that Sam is missing, but notice the journal on the hood. Dean opens the car door and checks to see if Sam is inside, but he isn't. Y/N looks around, confused. Seconds later, a group of people come out of the bar. The two walk up to a biker and his girlfriend, who are clearly drunk.

"Hey, have you guys been outside, around here in the last hour or so?" Y/N asks. They shake their heads and walk away. "Sam!" They look around frantically.

"Sammy," Dean says, turning around and noticing a surveillance camera on top of a streetlight. The two walk into the middle of the deserted road.

"Sam," they say in unison.

A deputy is looking at Dean and Y/N's fake IDs.

"So, what can we do for you, officers?" The deputy asks.

"We're working on a missing person case," Dean replies.

"I don't know if the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police."

"Oh, no. No, there's someone else. Actually, it's our cousin. We were having a few last nights at the bar. And we haven't seen him since."

"Does your cousin have a drinking problem?"

"Sam? Two beers, and he's doing karaoke," Y/N smiles.

"No, he wasn't drunk. He was taken," Dean says. The deputy nods and sits down at her computer. Dean and Y/N follow her and sit with her.

"Alright. What's his name?"

"Winchester. Sam Winchester."

"Like the rifle?" The deputy asks.

"Like the rifle," Y/N replies. The deputy types Sam's name into the computer and brings up his police record. She observes the page, then clicks on Dean's link and brings up his record.

"Samuel Winchester. So, you know that his brother, Dean Winchester, died in St. Louis. And, uh, was suspected of murder," Dean tries to look nonchalant, and Y/N bites her tongue to not laugh.

"Yeah, Dean. Kind of the black sheep of the family. Handsome, though," Dean says. The deputy then clicks on Y/N's link and brings up her record.

"Uh-huh. And his sister, Y/N Winchester?"

"Oh yeah, Y/N. We haven't seen her since Dean's death. I mean, I don't blame her. Losing her brother," Y/N says. The deputy nods, understanding. She types something else and brings up more search results on the computer. "Well, he's not showing up in any current field reports."

"Oh, we already have a lead. I saw a surveillance camera by the highway," Dean says.

"Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?"

"Right. Yeah. We're thinking the camera picked up whatever took him. Or, whoever," Y/N says.

"Well, I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county works department, but—well, anyhow, let's do this right away." She stands up and gets some paperwork from a filing cabinet. "Why don't you two fill out a missing person’s report and sit tight over here?" She hands Dean a clipboard.

"Officer, look, uh, he's family. We kind of—we kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let us go with you," he says.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that."

"Well, tell us something. Your county has its fair share of missing people. Any of 'em come back?" Y/N says, and the deputy looks sad. "Sam's our responsibility. And he's coming' back. We're bringin' him back," the deputy says, looking at Y/N.

Groaning, Sam is asleep in a cage. He jerks awake and observes his surroundings. He rattles the bars of the cage. He looks around and notices a man asleep in a cage next to his.

Dean and Y/N are sitting on a bench outside. Kathleen then comes up behind them, holding printouts of the camera footage.

"Greg. Sarah," the twins see her and stand up. "I think we've got something," she says, handing Y/N the printouts, and she looks through them, Dean staring at them. "These traffic cameras take an image every three seconds as part of the Amber Alert program. These images were all taken around the time that your cousin, Sam, disappeared."

"This really isn't what we're looking for," Dean says.

"Just wait, wait—next one," Y/N turns the page and sees an image of a rusty truck driving. "This one was taken right after Sam left the bar. Look at the back end of the thing. Now, look at the plates." Y/N turns another page and sees a close-up image of the truck's license plates.

"Oh, the plate looks new. It's probably stolen," Y/N says.

"So, whoever's driving that rust bucket must be involved." A beat-up van drives by, its engine whining loudly.

"Hear that engine?" Dean asks.

"Yeah."

"Kind of a whining growl, isn't it?"

"Sure," Dean says, staring at the van as it drives away.

"I'll be damned," Y/N mutters.

Sam is trying to kick down the door of his cage, but he fails. The man across from him groans and wakes up. Sam rushes over to talk to him through the bars of their cages.

"You're alive," the man groans. "Hey, you, okay?" Sam asks.

"Does it look like I'm doing okay?"

"Where are we?"

"I don't know. The county, I think. Smells like the county."

"You're Alvin Jenkins, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Sam sighs.

"I was lookin' for ya."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, no offence, but this is a piss-poor rescue," Jenkins says.

"Well, my brother and sister are out there right now. They're lookin' for us. So—"

"So, they're gonna find us. We're in the middle of nowhere." Jenkins nods towards the door leading into the building. "Waiting for them to come back and do God-knows-what to us."

"What are they? Have you seen them?" Sam asks.

"What are you talking about?"

"Whatever's got us, what'd they look like?"

"See for yourself." The door to the building opens, and two men wearing black coats and hats walk in. One man walks over to Jenkins' cage and kicks the side of it. Jenkins moves back into the corner. The other man goes to a panel of buttons attached to a pole in the middle of the room. He inserts a key into the panel and twists it. Jenkins' cage unlocks. The men enter. "Leave me alone! Don't you take me; leave me alone!" The men place a plate of food in front of Jenkins. They leave the cage and walk over to the panel. One of the men twists the key again and removes it, which locks the cage. They leave, and Jenkins devours his food.

"I'll be damned. They're just people," Sam mutters.

"Yeah. What'd you expect?"

"How often do they feed you?"

"Once a day. And they use that thing over there to open the cage," he points to the panel.

"And that's the only time you see 'em?" Sam asks.

"So far. But I'm waitin'."

"Waitin' for what?"

"Ned Beatty time, man."

"I think that's the least of your worries right now."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What do you think they want, then?" Jenkins asks. Sam reaches through the top of his cage and grabs a long metal wire stretching from the top of the pole to the ground. He tries to pull it down.

"It depends on who they are."

"They're a bunch of psycho hillbilly rednecks, if you ask me. Lookin' for love in all the wrong places," Sam continues to pull on the wire. It gradually starts to detach from the pole.

"Ok, the next traffic cam is fifty miles from here, and the pickup didn't pass that one, so..." Kathleen is cut off by Dean.

"So, it must've pulled off somewhere. I didn't see any other roads here," Y/N responds.

"Well, a lot of these backwoods properties have their own private roads."

"Great," Y/N mutters, staring out the window. Dean also looks out the window, annoyed.

"So, Gregory, Sarah?" Y/N turns to look at her companions.

"Yeah?" Dean asks.

"I ran your badge numbers; it's routine when we're working a case with state police. For accounting purposes, what have you?"

"Mmhmm."

"And, uh, they just got back to me," she says, pulling the car over to the side of the road. "It says here your badges were stolen," the two look surprised, "and there's a picture of you." She turns the computer to Dean and Y/N, showing them a picture of a heavy African-American man.

"He lost some weight," Y/N chuckles, "and he's got that Michael Jackson skin disease." Kathleen takes off her seatbelt.

"Okay, would you two step out of the car, please?"

"Look, look, look," she stops, "If you wanna arrest us, that's fine. We'll cooperate, I swear. But, first, please—let us find Sam."

"I don't even know who you are. Or if this Sam person is missing."

"Look into my eyes and tell me if I'm lying about this."

"Identity theft? You're impersonating an officer."

"Look, here's the thing. When we were young, we pretty much pulled him from a fire. And ever since then, we've felt responsible for him. Like, it's our job to keep him safe. We're just afraid if we don't find him fast—please." Y/N's voice breaks, "He's our family."

"I'm sorry. You've given me no choice. I have to take you two in," she glances at her visor. Her eye catches a photo of her and another man, smiling. She looks sad and sighs. "After we find Sam Winchester," she fastens her seatbelt. Dean looks confused, and Y/N looks thankful.

#Supernatural #older sister winchester #Supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fandom #reader insert

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nightingaelic · 3 years ago

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Reactions to a vampire courier? Companions plus Benny, Ulysses, Graham, House, Caesar, and Yes Man. (sorry if that's too many :x)

TW: Blood (maybe obviously)

Also I don't normally feel some type of way about AUs but the idea of Joshua Graham encountering a vampire courier is giving me shivers

The courier was a little... strange. Not in any way that stood out to the average wastelander just by looking at them, everyone in the Mojave had their quirks and the courier was no exception. Hell, you get shot in the head and come back, you're bound to have a screw or two loose. They were unquestionably a night owl, but so were half the people on the Strip, who only started to wake up after the sun had gone down and the slot machines were singing their loudest. They usually had bags under their bloodshot eyes, but every caravan driver from here to the Hub was short on sleep.

On the other hand, the courier had some habits that were a little beyond surface-level eccentricities. For one, no one had ever seen them eating, not once. Even when the King laid out a spread of pre-war snacks and liquor or when the buffet at the Tops was refreshed, they politely declined and took a swig from the canteen that they never offered to anyone else. They were also rather odd about bathrooms, insisting that anyone accompanying them remain outside on watch and let no one else through the door until they were finished. But the undeniable moment of oddity came one night in October, when their companion rounded a corner in Freeside after a trip to the Atomic Wrangler and discovered the courier behind a rusted dumpster, holding a man against a brick wall with their teeth buried in his neck.

The courier drew back at the interruption, blood smeared across their face. "I'm not- it's not what- he- oh, fuck."

Arcade Gannon: Arcade stared open-mouthed for a moment, before snapping violently back into the present. "Is he dead?"

"Umm..." The courier glanced at the man they were holding, whose head was lolling against the bricks. "Yes? Mostly."

With no patient to resuscitate, Arcade rounded on them. "Six, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?"

The courier tried to wipe away the blood that was dribbling from their chin, but they only succeeded in spreading it up their jawline. "Well, I, um, I was trying to..."

Whatever excuse they were searching for eluded them, so they dropped the pretense. "I was feeding, Arcade."

"Feeding? What, like some kind of-" Arcade's eyes widened and he cut his sentence off early in realization. "No. No way. That's not- vampires aren't real!"

That earned him a look of intense skepticism. "Arcade, we've fought off plant monsters and rattlesnake-coyote hybrids together. I have a gun in my pack that lets me teleport."

"Oh, okay, so you have some kind of iron deficiency and you're delusional." Arcade laughed, the sound high and harsh in the quiet alley. "Great. Fuck."

Craig Boone: Rather than engage in an abandoned alley, Boone immediately backtracked to a busier street. He was unsurprised when the courier didn't follow him: Even in Freeside, someone covered in blood was sure to be noticed and questioned.

Boone left town that night and made for Novac. He was pretty sure the courier would follow him, but he didn't know where else to go. At least he knew they were coming. A few people in Novac asked about where he'd been, what the courier was up to, but eventually they stopped asking.

A couple of weeks went by. Boone was on the night shift again when the door into the dinosaur swung open to reveal the courier. He'd heard someone coming, their feet on the stairs, and he already had his gun pointed in their face. "We will never work together again," he said, before they could open their mouth.

"Boone, can you just-"

"I don't want an explanation." Boone shook his head. "I don't need one. I already did you a favor, leaving New Vegas without putting you back in your grave. This is over."

The courier took a deep breath. "71."

"What?"

"71. I've killed 71 Legion soldiers and left their bodies empty under the Mojave sky." They looked down and shuffled their feet. "I've tasted their fear. They're more scared of me than the Burned Man, now."

Boone studied them. Ever so slowly, he lowered his gun.

Lily Bowen: "Put him down, dearie," Lily chastised them. "You're playing too roughly with that man. And watch your language around your grandma!"

The courier looked down at their victim, at their torn throat and limp limbs. "He tried to mug me, Lily. It wasn't pretty."

"He looks like he's had enough," Lily insisted. "Set him down. Gently."

With a sigh, the courier obliged and lowered the man to the ground. "I'm sorry, Lily. I should have told you earlier. I don't mean to be rude when I turn down your cooking, I just... I can't seem to..."

"Hush, now." Lily produced her enormous handkerchief and gathered the courier up in her arms, dabbing at the blood on their face with a corner of the cloth. "You've gotten it all over yourself, haven't you? We can clean that right up, but it looks like Grandma's going to have to do a load of laundry. You made the mess, so you get to help."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul swallowed nervously, something he'd noticed he was increasingly doing around the courier. "You know, we get murciélagos down in Arizona that do the same thing. They won't leave the brahmin alone."

The courier took in his anxious stance and sighed. "Raul, I'm not going to hurt you. Prometo. It's okay."

"Sure boss, but I don't think the hair on the back of my neck is going down anytime soon." Raul smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "Or it wouldn't, if I still had any. Como..?"

"No clue." The courier shrugged and held their hands up, letting the corpse they'd been holding slide to the ground. "I think it had something to do with me surviving Benny's best attempts to do me in, but a bullet is a bullet and I don't remember if I was like this before, or..."

"Or only after." Raul chuckled. "Jesucristo, and here I am thinking I'll outlive you like most everyone else I've known."

"Yep."

"Should I start calling you el chupacabra?"

The courier grinned, a bloody smile with sharp teeth.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Fuck," Cass echoed, scrambling to pull her shotgun from its holster. "Knew I had too much, can't even- who are you and what've you done with the courier? Some kind of cannibal, wearing their skin? Alien? Shapeshifter? I'll blow a hole in your liver to match mine!"

"Whoa, Cass, it's me, it's me!" The courier dropped the man they were holding and held their blood-stained hands up. "Same old Six, just... maybe I wasn't straight with you about why I don't order anything at bars."

"Goddamn right you weren't straight with me!" Cass gestured at the body on the ground with the barrel of her gun. "Who's the fucker on the floor and why are you two pints in on him?"

"Just trying to get my drink on," the courier muttered.

Cass repaid this facetiousness with a jab of her shotgun, and they raised their hands higher. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! You tell me, how do you tactfully tell someone that you're a creature of the night and you need to drink blood to survive?"

"Creature of the night? You're fucking loopy." Cass' eyes narrowed. "There's plenty of critters in the Mojave that only come out when it's dark, but most of them don't tear into..."

She trailed off into curses when she realized she was wrong. The courier smiled hesitantly and lowered their hands an inch. "Hey. Let me chuck this failed mugger in the dumpster and we can talk about it like a pair of civilized folks?"

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica squeaked and fell back a few steps, banging her elbow against the edge of the dumpster. A jolt of confused pain shot up her arm, and the Scribe couldn't help giggling harshly at the sudden assault on her funny bone.

"Not- laughing... at murder," she managed to get out between hisses of pain. "Oh, for the love of... right, you're not getting out of explaining what you are, exactly, just because I'm indis-indisposed!"

The courier couldn't help laughing at the squirming Scribe, but they did their best to stifle it. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I um... I guess I don't really know... what I am?"

"There's books!" Veronica burst out, pointing at the courier and their victim wildly. "I've seen them, in old libraries. Creatures that feed on blood, only come out at night, don't show up in... in mirrors, of course, no wonder you're weird about bathrooms, I should test... Dracula! That's it, you're a Dracula!"

"A Dracula?" The courier held their hands up, as if seeing them anew. "Never heard of them. Are they... bad?"

"Well, traditionally, yes." Veronica made a face and rubbed her elbow. "Black cloaks, sleeping in coffins, seducing and manipulating everyone around them... and people don't like it when you take their blood, in my experience."

"Whose blood have you taken?"

"This isn't about me, Six!"

ED-E: The eyebot bobbed wildly and made noises of concern, blips and blats and a flat burst of trumpets from some old jazz tune.

"I was hungry," the courier protested. "And this asshole pulled a knife on me and wanted all of my caps. Probably more than that, if we're being honest. He wasn't doing the world any good, but he did me some, for sure."

ED-E flipped between old clips of a Silver Shroud radio show. "Well, isn't this a deep, dark <static> secret? <static> In a situation such as this, the best anyone can do is <static> try to control it!" The robot added some more concerned beeps for good measure.

"I'm trying," the courier said with a sigh, looking down at the dead man they were holding. "You know I wouldn't hurt some random person, ED-E. Not if I could help it. The Mojave's full of bad people, enough to keep me going if I'm careful."

Rex: The hair on Rex's spine stood up, and he let out a long, low growl. The courier froze for a moment, before realizing that he was growling not at them but at the man they were holding.

"He's dead, Rex," they reassured the cyberdog, lowering the corpse to the floor for inspection.

Rex sniffed the body over, taking in the copper scent of his blood and the Freeside stink on his clothes. He sniffed the courier too, each of their hands they held out to him and the thick headiness of adrenaline. He whined and wagged his tail twice.

"Good boy," the courier said, straightening up. "It's about time I turned in, anyway. Let's dump this guy and split."

Benny Gecko: Benny crossed his arms. "You know, Six, if you're dead set on getting your kicks in Freeside every now and then, you might want to ease up on the passions with the next greaser you snag. This one's torn all to pieces."

"I wasn't- what kind of-" The courier dropped the man they were holding and sputtered. "Christ, only you could make a midnight murder awkward, Benny."

"Murder?" Benny raised his eyebrows and looked from side to side theatrically. "Who said anything about a murder? All I saw was some dreamboat and the best apple butterer of New Vegas playing back alley bingo, officer."

The courier's eyes narrowed. "Not gonna rat me out? Tell the King or somebody that I'm..."

"What, taking a page out of the White Glove Society's book?" Benny held his hands up. "None of my business. Well, if you ever come for me with that look in your eyes, though, that'll be a different story."

"Not much you'd be able to do," the courier pointed out. "You already tried and failed to kill me once."

Ulysses: Rather than react like any normal wastelander might've upon encountering someone attacking a man with their teeth, Ulysses just stood there, taking the scene in. "Heard tales of a tribe like you. East, farther east than even I've walked... a coven hiding in tunnels, emerging only when their hungers grow too strong to ignore, strong enough to pull blood from the veins of the world around them."

"Well, I don't hide in tunnels." The courier grimaced and heaved their victim up over their shoulder, depositing them unceremoniously in the dumpster. "Unless some disgruntled Frumentarius sends me out to hunt mutants under Hopeville."

"Perhaps you have more in common with those predators than I assumed," Ulysses admitted. "But then, your path has always run red. Blood of the Old World, blood of the new, blood of the Bull and the Bear..."

The courier rolled their eyes as they peeled off their red-stained coat and tossed it in the dumpster as well. "Don't talk to me about blood. I know you've seen just as much as me, but it doesn't mean the same thing when I look at it."

Ulysses cracked a hint of a smile. "You see life where I see death. Two sides, courier."

"Yeah, yeah. If you're not going to try to kill me, come on. You can wax poetic and lecture me about which road I'm walking while I take a shower."

Joshua Graham: "A creature far from God," Graham said in his most reproachful tone. "Forever damned for the souls of the innocent they've taken from the earth. Aren't we a pair, courier."

"You can fuck right off with that attitude." The courier dropped the man they were holding and wiped their hands on their coat. "He tried to kill me first. For some caps."

"The crimes of others do not absolve you of your own sins, courier," Graham continued, leisurely retrieving his gun from its holster. He held it up in the muted neon light that filtered through the alley, turning the weapon this way and that. "Though I confess I am also looking for absolution in this way."

"Are you going to kill me?" the courier asked, eyeing the gun as well.

"I've no doubt it would leave this world better than when you walked it," Graham replied. "But my own opinions are not enough to seal your fate. Perhaps we should find this man's family and hear their feelings on the matter."

The courier took a step forward, then another, until their chest was right up against the pistol's muzzle, pressed against the fabric of their shirt. "Go ahead. Try."

And though Joshua Graham was sorely tempted to pull the trigger, though the courier made no move to stop him, something in their eyes... some faraway pain, older than the desert itself, fresh as the blood on the ground, stayed his hand.

He lowered the gun, chastised, and the courier walked away.

Robert House: The Securitron that bore Robert House's face on its screen leveled a minigun at the courier. "Whoa!" the courier protested, dropping their victim and putting their hands out. "Can't we talk about this?"

"And what have we to discuss?" House sounded absolutely disgusted. "I believe you're familiar with my contract with the White Glove Society. If they wish to continue their current prosperity in New Vegas, cannibalism is strictly forbidden. You are subject to the same terms and conditions, as one of my employees."

"Terms and condi- hold on, hold on, you never asked me whether I was a cannibal," the courier replied. "Are you talking about that document you had me sign, way back when I agreed to help you fight the NCR and the Legion?"

"The very same."

"How is that fair? That thing was over 200 pages long, I didn't grow up in the 21st century, I don't have a degree in... okay, okay." The courier waved their hands. "Cannibalism is a no-go. This isn't cannibalism, this is vampirism."

"Which falls under the definition of cannibalism," House replied, his annoyed tone still detectable over the sound of the minigun spinning up. "Section 3.65, subsection F. Next time, read the fine print."

Caesar: The Legion's great leader pivoted in an instant from surprise to quiet anger. "Clean yourself up, courier. I expect to see you in my quarters within the hour."

He turned and left the alley swiftly, letting his powerful stride and swinging cloak cover his shaken confidence. The people of Freeside cowered as he passed, shrinking into the shadows as he made his way back to the Strip, but the fear in their eyes was not enough to erase the image of the courier bent over in bloodlust, holding their victim in total subjugation.

The courier found him on the top floor of the Lucky 38, gazing out over the city he had conquered and named his Rome. "Leave us," Caesar bid his Praetorian Guard. They bowed and departed the room without question.

"You asked to see me," the courier said nervously, shifting their weight from foot to foot. They had changed clothes, and no trace of blood remained on them.

"I did." Caesar beckoned them to the window next to him. They stood in silence for a moment, watching the lights wink below.

"I'm a well-read man, courier," Caesar said finally. "I know the legends of the Old World, and I recognize the marks of one of their nightmares in you. I order you to tell me the truth: Do you fit the full definition of the creature they called 'vampire,' or do you simply mimic the things to add to your fearsome affect?"

The courier didn't answer right away. When they did, their voice was soft. "I pretend to be nothing. I am what I am."

"And everything that comes with it?" Caesar pressed. "Darkness, the blood of the innocent, eternity?"

"Yes."

Caesar turned to face them fully. "Then I, Almighty Caesar, command you to make me as you are."

Yes Man: "Now that's a twist I didn't see coming!" Yes Man said, his happy tone only slightly tempered with uncertainty. "Boy, am I glad I don't have a circulatory system right now!"

The courier shushed the Securitron and looked around the alley surreptitiously. "Yes Man, I swear to god, if you blow my cover I'm disassembling you."

"As I've told you before, I can't technically die!" Yes Man reassured them. "And I certainly wouldn't want to endanger you and your hobbies, but my volume mixer is tied to my enthusiasm simulator and I can't adjust it! You'll just have to hope any passersby aren't interested in following my friendly voice into an alley!"

"Then go back to the Lucky 38 and we'll talk later," the courier insisted, through gritted teeth.

"I technically never left! But if you mean this Securitron, sure thing!" Yes Man zoomed away on his single wheel, whistling the whole way back to the casino where the rest of his consciousness was housed. He kept whistling as he ran probability algorithms, only pausing when the courier returned after a few hours and crossed their arms in front of his main screen.

"Hi there!" he said joyfully. "I've just been cross-checking Mr. House's records on noteworthy disappearances in the Strip, and I've flagged eight of them as potentially being connected to you! I don't want to assume your intentions, but if you don't want to be found out, I've developed a plan for choosing your next victims that will help you remain undetected in New Vegas for 184 years! Give or take a few!"

The courier put their head in their hand and sighed.

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pretendicanwrite · 2 years ago

Text

Cards Against Humanity

I totally didn't sit and play a five-player game of CAH with myself. Not at all.

CW: If you've ever played it, you know that it can get raunchy, and it has some curse words and difficult and dirty topics.

Enjoy!

**********

Cap, Loops, Finn, Logan, and Knutty were gathered in the captain's living room, currently slightly drunk. They had been out drinking earlier, just the five of them when they decided that it would be more fun to party at Sirius’ home. They stopped at a liquor store on the way home and bought multiple bottles of strong liquor.

“Guys, we should totally play Cards Against Humanity!” Sirius shouted, heading over to the shelves on the far end of the room. He grabbed the box, not even waiting for confirmation or disagreement. He set it on the coffee table, moved to sit on the floor, and sorted it out. He handed everyone seven white cards and Remus picked up the black prompt card.

“Okay, coming to Broadway this season, blank the musical.”

He watched as Leo snorted at his card, and placed it on the center of the table, soon being joined by three other cards.

Remus shuffled them and picked them up. “Coming to Broadway this season, dead parents the musical.” Everyone laughed, only shutting up when Remus held up his hand. “Coming to Broadway this season, powerful thighs, the musical. Coming to Broadway this season, full frontal nudity, the musical. Finally, Coming to Broadway this season, teenage pregnancy, the musical.” The laughter never really stopped between each response, the boys just chuckling while Remus read each one. “This round was so good, but I have to give the card to dead parents.”

Leo pumped his fist in the air, “I’ll take that suckers. Are we going in a circle? ‘Cause if so, it’s Cap’s turn.”

Sirius picked up a black card, and read it aloud. “My mom freaked when she looked at my browser history and found, blank.com/blank. Pick two cards. I’ll close my eyes, just place them in separate piles.”

When everyone was ready, he started, picking up the left-most set of cards. “My mom freaked when she looked at my browser history and found mutually assured destruction.com / grandma. My mom freaked when she looked at my browser history and found, a homoerotic subplot.com / estrogen. That one is funny.” Sirius could barely get through the responses without laughing. “My mom freaked when she looked at my browser history and found sexual tension.com / Micheal Jackson. And last but not least, my mom freaked when she looked at my browser history and found poor life choices.com / free samples. I have to give it to,” Sirius paused, looking back down at the cards. “I guess poor life choices.”

Finn held out his hand for the card, smiling smugly at the other three. “My turn. Blank. That is my fetish.”

Once all of the cards were turned in, he began. “All men. That is my fetish.” Finn slapped a hand over his mouth while everyone else laughed. His face was turning concerningly red while he read over the next one. “Daddy issues. That is my fetish. Oh my god, I thought this was going to be fun. The feminist agenda. That is my fetish. Making love, not warfare. That is my fetish.” Finn set the cards down and just stared at them while the rest of the group laughed. “I don’t even know how to respond. I guess all men. It’s the closest to my interests.”

“You trying to tell us something Harzy?” Logan asked, laying an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. He laughed when Finn blushed and shook his head. “Anway,” Logan picked up a card, “Blank gives me life. Emotional unavailability gives me life. Really funny that you gave that card to me. Haha. Me time gives me life. Also true for me. A defective condom gives me life. Do you know what would be funnier? if I wasn’t planned. Alright, a mime having a stroke gives me life.” Somehow, Logan managed to keep a straight face throughout the entirety of his turn. Finally, after a while of deliberation, he held up the emotional unavailability card to the group.

Leo held out his hand for the card, avoiding a slap Logan sent his way. He picked up his prompt card, practically jumping in his excitement for his turn. “The worst fic I ever read had blank as lube. Okay, here we go. The worst fic I ever read had peeing a little bit as lube. Weird. The worst fic I ever read had fingering as lube. The worst fic I ever read had unfathomable stupidity as lube. The worst fic I ever read had edible underwear as lube. Man, straight sex must be weird. Umm, I guess peeing a little bit.”

Remus picked up his card starting round two. “I hate this job. I hate this place. Most of all, I hate blank. I quit.” Logan and Leo laughed as they put their answers down. “Okay, I hate this job. I hate this place. Most of all, I hate substituting sweet potato fries for 2 dollars. I hate this job. I hate this place. Most of all, I hate A magician fucking up over and over again. I quit. I hate this job. I hate this place. Most of all, I hate maybe getting a little involved in selling heroin sometimes. I quit. I hate this job. I hate this place. Most of all, I hate doing hoe shit. I quit. Remus took a minute to laugh, laying the cards out in front of him. “Remus held up the hoe shit card, wheezing as he repeated it.

Leo reached out for the card, saying, “I swear I got all the dirty cards the past few rounds.”

Sirius picked up the next prompt card. “Yeah, that’s so hot. I’m so close. Talk about blank again! OH, I’M CUMMING.” Sirius added moans to it, acting out the yells on the card. Everyone placed their cards on the table, laughing at Sirius. “Yeah, that’s so hot. I’m so close. Talk about Leading a country to war on false pretenses again! OH, I’M CUMMING. Yeah, that’s so hot. I’m so close. Talk about foul vegan shits again! OH, I’M CUMMING. Yeah, that’s so hot. I’m so close. Talk about having thirty sons named Chad again! OH, I’M CUMMING. Yeah, that’s so hot. I’m so close. Talk about being inside me again! OH, I’M CUMMING.” Sirius moaned out the words again, barely able to get through the chad one.

Silently, Sirius held the thirty sons named Chad card out, and Logan took it. “Ok, but who was the being inside me card?” Leo raised his hand, laughing as he repeated that he had gotten all of the dirty cards.

“Seriously guys, there’s nothing funny about blank.” Finn began, continuing once all of the cards were placed in front of him. “Seriously guys, there’s nothing funny about This kid I found. Seriously, guys, there’s nothing funny about getting depressed and super fat. Seriously, guys, there’s nothing funny about Jormungandr the world serpent. Seriously, guys, there’s nothing funny about Voldemort. There is something funny about this kid I found though.” Remus took the card, collecting all of the used cards.

“My turn!” Logan shouted, grabbing his card. “You city folk would never understand the quiet dignity of blank. You city folk would never understand the quiet dignity of uncut daddy dick. You city folk would never understand the quiet dignity of stapling a butterfly to a cow. You city folk would never understand the quiet dignity of a button that when you press it, there’s jazz. You city folk would never understand the quiet dignity of tiny, sour kisses from a lemon dwarf. Oh my god. Uncut daddy dick is scary. Umm, stapling a butterfly to a cow sounds like a country thing. That wins.”

Sirius held his hand out for the card. “That sounds like animal cruelty you weirdo.”

“What’s up, YouTube? User DanTheMan wanted to see blank, so here you go. This one should be fun. What’s up, YouTube? User DanTheMan wanted to see a real cum-dumpster of a saxophonist, so here you go. What’s up, YouTube? User DanTheMan wanted to see enticing a hummingbird to drink nectar out of my urethra, so here you go. What’s up, YouTube? User DanTheMan wanted to see my math teacher’s bulge, so here you go. What’s up, YouTube? User DanTheMan wanted to see making direct eye contact with a horse’s asshole, so here you go. I wanted to see my math teacher’s bulge, so…”

Finn and Logan choked on their own saliva both turning to look at their boyfriend. Finn reached his hand out and took the card from Leo. “We’re going to have a talk about that soon.”

They went a few more rounds, Leo winning about 4 out of the 13 more rounds they played.

“How the hell are you so good at this game?” Finn asked, laying on top of Leo.

“I can easily appease to other people’s senses of humor. Sirius and Remus both like dirty jokes. You like jokes that are relatable, and Logan likes dumb humor.”

“I love you Knutty, but the fact that you can read us so well concerns me.”

“Aww, Fishy, I love you too.”

**********

I hope some of you find this humorous!

#oknutzy #finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #sweater weather #o'knutzy #coops

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mysteryshoptls · 3 years ago

Text

SSR Jade Leech Halloween Personal Story: Part 3

"Would you please teach me?"

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

[Classroom]

Everyone: A 24-HOUR-LONG CANDY COLLECTION EVENT!?

Jade: A candy collection... The name alone sounds like your typical Halloween, but...

Jade: From the way you talk about it, it does not seem like that is the case.

Ruggie: Well, yeah. That's because for us, candies are a luxury that we rarely get to eat.

Ruggie: And all we have to say is "Trick-or-treat" and they give those luxuries to us for free.

Ruggie: There's no way us hyenas would let a chance to fill our stomachs like that pass us by.

Jade: Ruggie-san, when you help out at Mostro Lounge,

Jade: It's true that you have always brought storage containers with you.

Jade: I suppose that means that your voracious appetite is still the same now as it was back then.

Ruggie: I would always take the opportunity to gather the neighborhood kids, assign them areas of the village, and then we'd all go and make our rounds.

Ruggie: ...In order to make sure not a single house slipped through our fingers.

Jamil: What frightening tenacity...

Ruggie: Since we could get more candy if we changed up who went where, we'd switch everyone up and go back to the same houses over and over againー

Silver: Going that far...definitely seems like it would become a problem.

Ruggie: How perceptive. I've forgotten exactly how many years ago it was now, but there was a time our operation was exposed to the leader of the neighborhood watch.

Ruggie: They wasted no time in setting a trick or treat ban.

Jade: Oh, well that's a shame. Was everyone disappointed?

Ruggie: Well, of course. I was also just a kid who messed up 'cause I got too greedy.

Ruggie: And since I was like the big brother of all the kids in my hometown, I was the one who got scolded the most.

Jade: While hearing you tell your story, I couldn't help but think that you're unexpectedly very good at looking after others, Ruggie-san.

Jade: Although, I had the impression that you only worked for compensation...

Ruggie: ...Well, let's leave that talk for now.

Ruggie: My grandma couldn't stand seeing the kids so dejected, so she made them all pumpkin pie.

Riddle: Pumpkin pie... Hmm, that does sound delicious.

Jade: Sounds like a new candidate for our Halloween menu.

Ruggie: Ah, that's a closely guarded Bucchi secret family recipe, so if you want me to teach you, that'll cost extra. Shishishi!

Jade: How shrewd of you, Ruggie-san.

Jade: It's grander in appearance than cookies or muffins, and it would be beneficial to us to have something more substantially filling.

Ruggie: Of course. Cause it all comes down to having a full stomach. But it wasn't anything fancy or nothing.

Ruggie: That's because the ingredients for the pumpkin pie are just the insides that were scooped out of the Jack-O'Lanterns.

Jade: Oh... I never thought of that kind of use.

Ruggie: So, that next year, I started a part-time job making Jack-O'Lanterns just for those pumpkin pies.

Azul: You really have an abundance of experience when it comes to part-time jobs... I have to say I admire that.

Ruggie: Not only did I get paid for it, the pumpkins were supplied to me,

Ruggie: And I was able to take the scooped out insides home...

Ruggie: It was like, "Is this sweet deal even real!?" Hip hip, Halloween!

Jade: Splendid! Allow me to apprentice myself to your business spirit that allows you to turn every possibility to profit.

Silver: ...So everyone's enjoyed Halloween in different ways, huh.

Kalim: Yeah. Let's enjoy the school's Halloween event as much as we can and make some good memories!

Floyd: Enjoy as much as we can?

Azul: Good memories... you say.

Kalim: ...? Isn't Halloween something to enjoy?

Jade: At the very least, for us merfolk from the depths of the northern oceans, that is not the nuance of the event.

Jade: For those who have lost their lives to the ocean, there are many that carry regret and despair.

Jade: Those that were caught in heavy storms, those that lost sight of the route to their destination and withered away aboard their ship...

Jade: Either way, it is not unusual for the returning ghosts to be violent.

Azul: Indeed. One could even say that the ghosts of pirates lead that group.

Jamil: Didn't you just say earlier that "Halloween is celebrated with lighting up Noctiluca or playing lively songs"?

Floyd: Y'know, the lantern's just like a guide so that no merfolk accidentally goes to the land of ghosts～

Floyd: And apparently the whole reason we play music is so that ghosts don't get lonely.

Azul: In addition, it seems to be designed to quell their anger and sadness.

Riddle: ...You're not saying there are ghosts all the way at the bottom of the sea, are you?

Jade: In truth, I have not actually seen many before; however...

Jade: It is to the point where during Halloween our schools would send out notifications.

Jade: Places we shouldn't go near, or times we should avoid going outside... Especially since there would always be some that go missing every year.

Ruggie: Wait a second... That's too scary.

Floyd: That reminds me～ Once during middle school, I think I remember coming across three Jades in different places～

Jade: I also remember there was a time that I thought I was speaking to Floyd, but on the following day, he said he had heard nothing of the sort from me.

Jade: At the time, I didn't pay much heed to it, believing that he had just not been listening, but...

Azul: It is Halloween, after all. There's bound to be those kinds of incidents.

Jamil: Those kinds of incidents... huh.

Silver: It seems that to us, it is an inconceivably terrifying world under the sea...

Jade: Halloween in the Coral Sea is a great way to enjoy a thrilling experience that you ordinarily would not have.

Floyd: Well, at least you won't get bored～

Azul: This goes back to Ruggie-san's talk earlier, but it is also spectacular with an abundance of business opportunities!

Jade: Putting Azul's business chatter aside...whether land or sea, I greatly enjoy the events put on for Halloween.

Jade: I become quite excited imagining all the unexpected things that could happen.

Jade: And as I was selected for the Halloween Committee, I wish for those of you on the surface to also experience something different from usual.

Jade: A thrill beyond just enjoying oneself that we are able to provide simply because we have come from the ocean instead.

Jade: Let us make this year better than all previous years and hold a fantastic Halloween. Fufufu...

Jade: Happy Halloween!

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

#twisted wonderland #twst #jade leech #ruggie bucchi #kalim al-asim #floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #jamil viper #azul ashengrotto #twst jade #twst ruggie #twst kalim #twst floyd #twst riddle #twst jamil #twst azul #twst silver #twst translation

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wonwooslibrary · 4 years ago

Text

Stay Forever

pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader (told in third person)

genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage!au

word count: 2587

warnings: there are no warnings, but there is a small sword fighting scene - nothing graphic though!

author’s note: i have been planning this and stressing over this for so long, it feels great to finally post it! this is written for @ficscafe ’s royalty au drabble event! thank you @cha-lan for beta reading & editing (and writing the chan part towards the end) for me (ily lannie & this is for you!! <3), along with @minghaofilm for editing and @sanshiine for beta reading!! (thank you all so much!!)

this is based heavily off of “17″ by Pink Sweat$ ft. Joshua & DK of SEVENTEEN. The title is also from that song. You can find the whole playlist for this drabble HERE.

The throne room was large. The golden trim seemingly glowed around the ceilings, and the red velvet curtains blocked out the blinding sun from being too overbearing on one’s eyes. In the back of the room on a higher platform were two thrones: the one on the left was larger than the one on the right, and was adorned with more embellishments carved into its golden-stained wood.

Sitting in the larger throne was an older man in his early nineties; a shiny crown sat lightly on his white hair, gleaming in the sun. Next to him on the smaller throne was a woman about the same age—her hair pulled back and out of her face, the crown on her head sparkling. Sitting in the woman’s lap were two small children, both slightly above the age of ten.

The man beamed at the children, his smile bright and full of love. “Do you want to hear a story?”

The children giggled, their loud, high-pitched voices echoing off of the walls and throughout the room. “Yes, please, Grandpa! Tell us a story!”

"Well, it all started when your Grandmother and I were very young," the man began. "Before your grandmother and I met, she was living in a faraway place with your Uncle Junnie."

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════ ══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════

The first thing Seokmin noticed about sitting at the round table in the conference room was the uncomfortable surface he was forced to perch on. You'd think as a prince living in a palace that he'd get to sit on something softer or more comfortable, but no, the King had to make him sit on the same uncomfortable wooden chairs for hours, pretending to listen to any of the information that was being said to him.

"Seokmin? Are you even paying attention to what we are talking about?"

Seokmin snapped out of his daydream and lifted his head off of his palm to look up at his father.

“Oh! Um, yeah—yes. Of course, I’m paying attention.”

The King rolled his eyes but continued to catch Seokmin up to speed with the conversation.

“So, as you know, the Queen of Shenzhen—along with her son and daughter—are going to be visiting soon,” the King explained. “We are going to hold a ball when they get here. It will be used to announce a wedding.”

The Prince looked over at his father, tilted his head slightly to the left and raised his brow. “A wedding? For who?”

His father coughed slightly and glared at the younger boy, "You and the princess, of course."

With that, the King stood up and walked out, leaving his middle son to sit in the still uncomfortable chair of the conference room, staring off into space.

Hours later, Seokmin was found in his older brother's bedroom. Most of Jihoon's belongings were not in the palace anymore but in the neighboring Kingdom's, leaving the room to look as if Jihoon didn’t live there for almost twenty years.

As Jihoon was unpacking some of the clothes he brought for his stay, Seokmin and their youngest brother, Chan, sat on his bed.

The youngest patted his hand on Seokmin’s knee, “When did father say you were getting married?”

“In, like, four days! I haven’t even met the princess yet!”

Jihoon sighed, “I can’t believe he’s doing this again.”

Seokmin rolled his eyes, “Tell me about it. It made sense for the eldest sibling to go through an arranged marriage, not that any of us liked putting you through that, but why me too?”

“It’s probably because Father wants someone to be in charge here after he’s gone, and it obviously can’t be hyung if he’s living in another kingdom,” Chan looked over at Seokmin. “And I am way too young to get married–”

“When do the prince and princess arrive?” Jihoon interrupted his youngest brother.

“Tomorrow. The Queen is arriving the day before the wedding. Father says that gives us time to get acquainted with them.”

Jihoon turned around and moved his gaze from the closet he was putting clothes into and to his brothers’ faces. “It can’t be that bad to at least meet them, Seok.”

“I just don’t want to get married, hyung. I don’t know this person, and I’m only nineteen!”

“It’ll get better, hyung,” Chan started. “I mean, they can’t force you to get married.”

Seokmin opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by a knock on the large, wooden doors of the bedroom.

“It must be time for dinner, let’s go,” Jihoon told his brothers, setting the clothes hanger that was in his hand down onto the bed, and walked towards the door.

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════ ══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════

“So?” the youngest of the two kids questioned the older man. “Did the prince ever meet the princess?”

“Of course he did!” The man exaggerated his words for the children’s entertainment.

“Tell us that story, Grandma!”

“Okay, Okay. When the princess met the prince, she was very—how do I say this?—surprised.”

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On the day the Queen’s children arrived, Seokmin was pleased to have met the prince, Junhui, before he met the princess. The two bonded fairly quickly over their enjoyment of sports: Seokmin with sword fighting and Junhui with martial arts.

Seokmin had offered to show Junhui around the palace, their last stop being the training grounds where Junhui suggested that Seokmin teach him some sword fighting.

Seokmin quickly agreed, taking Junhui to the armory to get proper protective equipment and swords. They spent most of their time outside on the battleground, swords in hand and padded gear covering their bodies. The blazing sun made Seokmin start to sweat the more he moved to practice attacking his dueling partner.

He had easily disarmed Junhui, the elder’s inexperience in the sport evident; Seokmin took his sword and used it against his opponent. One sword in the prince's left hand, the blade behind Junhui’s neck, and the one in his right hand pointed towards his rival's chest; the edge only centimeters away from his protective gear. Seokmin smirked at Junhui's scared expression and lowered the weapons, holding his left hand out for his opponent to take his sword back.

Suddenly, the sound of clapping echoed around him, forcing Seokmin to look around his surroundings. His eyes focussed on a woman, no older than nineteen, who was applauding almost sarcastically at the display of Seokmin’s skill.

He slid his sword back into the sheath that was slung over his shoulder, the blade resting on his back. With long strides, he walked away from the battleground and towards the woman, only stopping when he was a few feet away from her, a dazzling smile on his face.

Seokmin bowed, “What can I do for you, miss?”

“Oh, today is my first day here. I was just exploring. The other people seem to gravitate towards you, you know.”

Seokmin chuckled. “Being a prince—specifically one who knows their way with a weapon—does that to you.”

The woman’s eyes widened a bit. “You wouldn’t happen to be Seokmin, would you, Your Highness?”

“I am. Were you expecting one of my brothers instead?”

“Um, not exactly,” she began. “I’m Y/N. Princess Y/N, from Shenzhen.”

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The night following Y/N and Junhui’s arrival at the palace was a ball. His father had encouraged him to host some type of gathering to announce the wedding, and at this point, there was nothing Seokmin could really do besides agree.

He had only spoken with the princess a few times; her calm and collected voice intimidated Seokmin a bit, not that he would admit to that. When introducing themselves at dinner later the night they met, she had expressed her love of sword fighting: it one of the main reasons that the battleground was the first place she explored when she arrived. Seokmin had wondered why he had never met the princess earlier in his life, especially since they both shared this hobby.

Seokmin's mother made it clear—he was supposed to dance with Y/N for most of the night. The strict woman also made sure to make it very clear:

"Do not, and I mean do not try to sneak out as your brother did. You know exactly how your father reacted to that, and we do not want to see that again."

Of course, Seokmin rolled his eyes at that. He was not making any promises.

Though, when it was time to get ready for the ball, Seokmin started to become impatient. He, surprisingly, was excited to see the princess again. He had never had someone that truly had the same love for sword fighting as he did, besides the generals and other soldiers—such as his close friend, Joshua. He couldn’t wait to talk to the princess about their mutual love of the sport.

While Seokmin was getting ready for the ball in his bedroom—with the help of his best friends, Soonyoung and Seungkwan, of course—Y/N was on the other side of the castle, Seokmin’s mother helping her with her ball gown.

The dress was beautiful; the light reflected off the golden fabric and made the small sequins on the lace sleeves sparkle. The bodice of the gown was fairly plain, the off-the-shoulder neckline showing off the golden necklace that Y/N wore. The skirt of the dress, however, was the most beautiful part of the outfit. With a slim silhouette only going out a few inches around Y/N’s feet, the skirt's fabric floated slightly above the floor.

When looking at herself in the mirror, Y/N had not failed to tell the Queen about how much she loved the dress her future mother-in-law had picked out for her.

“Even the fabric shines in the sun,” Y/N had told the Queen. “It’s beautiful!”

The Queen was not going to argue with the princess.

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The ballroom of the castle was similar to many of its other rooms. The golden trim near the ceilings glowed, and the red velvet curtains blocked the sun from reaching the room. The colorful mural on the ceiling encouraged guests to look up and admire all the small details.

Along the middle of the ceiling were three large crystal chandeliers, illuminating the room with a glow. Towards the left side of the room was a grand staircase, comparable to something out of a fairytale. The marble flooring matched the marble stairs; the steps led to a balcony that circled above the main level of the room. On the right side of the room on the platform were three thrones. They were smaller compared to the ones found in the throne room but just as elegant. Connected to the stairs was a hallway leading deeper into the castle on the next floor.

The room was crowding up fast; different people from all over the kingdom arrived at the ball to hear the surprise that the prince had planned to announce. Everywhere Seokmin looked, he saw fancy gowns and hands holding champagne flutes.

For the next while, Seokmin continued to stand at the side of the room close to the exit, greeting people as they walked in. He recognized some of the people as council members with which he and the King would have meetings. Others he recognized as villagers from the many outings he had taken to the outdoor markets deeper in the kingdom.

As he was greeting people, he began to wonder, “Where is the princess?”

Though, all of a sudden—

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“Did the prince see the princess wearing her big ball gown and—oh! Was the princess wearing glass slippers? Was she, Grandpa? Was she? Was she?!” the older of the two children began to tug on the man’s sleeve, demanding an answer that was enough to satisfy the child’s ever-growing imagination.

“Yes, sweetheart. The prince did, in fact, see the princess standing at the top of those marble stairs. I don’t know about the glass slippers, though.”

“I can promise you I would never wear glass slippers to a ball. It may have worked in fairytales, but I would have tripped over that dress so quickly,” the woman sat next to the white-haired Seokmin spoke up, patting his arm to interrupt him from continuing the story.

“What about the rest of the ball?” the other child asked. “Did the prince dance with the princess?”

“Oh, of course, he did. The prince couldn’t leave someone as beautiful as the princess waiting.”

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As Y/N walked closer to Seokmin, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When she was only a few feet away from him, she smiled. Seokmin held his hand out to her, and she took it, coming closer to him. He moved his hands to Y/N’s waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, careful to not accidentally hit his crown.

“Good evening, Princess,” Seokmin’s eyes morphed into crescents as the sides of his mouth lifted. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Y/N laughed, “Thank you, Your Highness. Her Majesty helped me with it.”

“Mother. What can’t that woman do?”

As the music started to get heavier, Prince Chan yelped out from across the room. Seokmin and Y/N glanced in his direction, only to see the youngest brother hopping with his foot in his hand, face morphed with pain.

“I’m sorry!” another young guest exclaimed, her hands held out to try to stabilize the boy.

“Have I ever mentioned how glad I am that you don’t step on my feet while we dance?”

“Don’t push your luck, Your Highness," Y/N giggled, a sudden sly smirk upon her lips. "You never know what could happen.”

Seokmin and Y/N proceeded to glide across the marble floors; their conversation continued all while the prince's heart raced.

"So, how do you feel about your first dance here in the palace?" Seokmin questioned.

"Hm," Y/N began. "I think it's going pretty great. I didn't know you could dance.”

"It's mandatory for royals to learn here," he hummed. "I've known how to dance since I was seven."

Y/N's eyes widened, and silence ensued. Suddenly, Y/N leaned forward and rested her head on Seokmin's chest, his heart beating loudly into her ear. The two stayed like this for a while until the next song played, and Seokmin spoke up once again.

"My father wants me to use this to announce the wedding," Seokmin looked down at Y/N. "Do you want that?"

Y/N hummed. "I don't see why I can't learn to love someone like you, Your Highness."

Seokmin's heartbeat sped up as he moved his hand from Y/N's waist to her chin, making her face him. He bent down, his lips centimeters from hers and—

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"Ew! Cooties!"

The two elders laughed at their grandchildren's exclamation.

"Yes, kids. Cooties. Now, don't you think about doing that until you are much, much, much older, you hear?"

"Yes, Grandpa!" the eldest giggled.

"But did the prince and the princess ever get their happily ever after?" the younger questioned, pouting at her Grandparents.

"Of course they did!" Y/N told the child, running her hand through their hair.

“The end?”

“The end.”

“Oh! I guess I showed up at a wonderful time! C’mon kiddos, time for bed!”

The kids turned their heads to face the doorway.

“Uncle Jun!” They bolted towards the door to greet their Uncle, throwing quick goodnights and goodbyes before exiting the room. Junhui waved to the married couple and followed after the children.

Seokmin glanced over at his wife, shot her a wink and said, "Please, princess, forever stay with me like this."

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

Choke

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Virgil, Scott, Tracy Brothers

Can’t be bothered to come up with a neat title and summary for this right now, so calling it one of my drabbles even though it’s 2k words and longer than a bunch of my published fics, oops.

Was not what I had envisaged writing - I was actually poking through my inbox to look at prompts - but the idea stuck in my head and wanted writing, so I let it happen.

Sound was an important part of Virgil’s life. Strains of music, ivory piano keys, needle on vinyl. Machinery roaring, murmuring, humming along as oil stained his sleeves. His brothers, too many of them for silence to ever be an option, and even the quietest loud enough to fill his life.

He was familiar with so many sounds, could tell from the first vibrations what sort of attention it deserved, so when a throttled squeak sounded from next to him, he was moving before any of his other senses had registered the cause.

“Scott!” His brothers, all gathered around the table, added to the cacophony as they too scrambled to their feet, ingrained instincts pulling them towards their eldest brother like moths to a flame. Virgil was closest, and had moved first, so he was the one that won the dubious prize.

The throttled squeaking didn’t stop, somewhere on the wheezing scale, and hands were wrapped around his brother’s neck in an instinctual desperation Scott would never normally let show. Not if he had any real control over his actions.

They were first aid trained, and something like this was right in the heart of the basics, taught at school, let alone Rescue Scouts or on their professional courses. From the heaving of his brother’s shoulders, Scott still remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

It just wasn’t working.

“I’ve got you,” Virgil promised, muscles straining against flannel as he tugged the stool Scott was perched on backwards, away from the table. Dimly, he was aware of the others hovering in his periphery, not crowding the two of them but there if needed. “Let’s get you on your feet.”

Hands still around his own throat, body taut as he tried and failed to cough up whatever had jammed itself in his windpipe, Scott didn’t fight Virgil as he pulled him upright. Already, his lips were changing hue, gaining a tint of blue that suggested it wasn’t going to be as simple as just coughing up the obstruction.

At least they were all trained first responders.

Virgil nudged Scott until he was leaning forwards, at least partially propped up by Virgil’s own strength as his hand supported his brother’s chest. There was no point in standing on ceremony; Scott was still conscious enough to know what was going to happen. He gave a warning out of habit; almost before he finished speaking, his free hand was moving, the heel of his palm driving into Scott’s back.

No change. Scott was still scrabbling at his throat, his lips still changing colour.

Virgil did it again, and again when all he got was a strangled noise that was clearly Scott trying his best to dislodge the obstruction.

Two more hits continued to be useless, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his brothers moving away – dispersing to get more equipment, he vaguely registered with the little concentration he had to spare.

The next stage, then. He bundled Scott into a pseudo-embrace, biceps pinning him in place as his hands arranged themselves, palm over fist, just below his brother’s ribcage. This was going to hurt.

In and up, a fluid yet sharp moment that jarred the entirety of the body in his arms. He got a faint wheeze in response, still nowhere near good enough. Scott’s weight was increasing against him, and Virgil knew he didn’t have long before he passed out.

Another thrust, powerful enough to raise his taller brother onto his tiptoes momentarily, failed to dislodge the offending blockage, and Virgil started mentally running through the steps he’d have to take if this failed. Steps that Scott would hate with a passion.

He pulled back sharply again.

The noise it pulled from Scott’s lips was painful, but a relief all the same as something resembling a strangled cough was accompanied by a chunk of something black and charred dropping onto the table in front of them.

“Th-” his brother wheezed. He was trembling slightly, adrenaline coursing through his body, and Virgil immediately guided him down to the floor – less of a distance to fall if he lost his balance. Scott’s hand was back at his throat, but fingers massaged rings into the skin, rather than clutching desperately.

Virgil didn’t let go.

“Water?” John offered, face still pinched with worry as he carefully knelt down in front of Scott, plastic cup in hand. Scott’s hands were still trembling as they massaged his throat; if they needed a sign to tell them how shaken their big brother was, it was in the way John held the cup to his lips for him, tilting it just enough for a few drops at a time, and Scott accepted it.

Behind him, next to Virgil, who still had both his arms firmly wrapped around Scott for support, Gordon crouched down. A tanned hand ran lightly over the site of the back slaps, making its own tracks up and down and round and around in another gesture that was supposed to be comforting. Scott didn’t make any moves to pull away, so Virgil assumed it was giving him what he needed.

“Alan’s gone to get a scanner,” John explained after a moment. Scott gave a miniscule nod of acknowledgement as Virgil lightly rested a hand over his abdomen, hoping the thrusts to clear the obstruction hadn’t done any more damage, but knowing Scott would definitely be at least bruised. He hadn’t had the luxury of holding back his considerable strength. “How are you feeling?”

Slender fingers rested on Scott’s shoulder, not far from where Gordon was still rubbing his back lightly.

“’M okay,” Scott rasped, his own hands finally falling from his throat to rest in his lap. “Thanks, Virg.”

As though Virgil would have done nothing while his brother choked. “Don’t make it a habit,” he warned, and was rewarded with a slightly pained chuckle.

“Don’t plan to,” Scott promised.

“So, which part of Grandma’s cooking was it, anyway?” Gordon asked, leaning forwards a little as if he could make out the culprit if he squinted hard enough.

Scott gave a shrug, his whole body shifting. Virgil saw the warning for what it was and tightened his hold on his brother before he could try and clamber back to his feet. With John and Gordon both joining in as well, Scott’s bid for freedom was scuppered before it began.

“There’s no rush,” Virgil reminded him pointedly. “Stay put until Alan gets back with the scanner.”

Scott groaned, but surrendered. Against three brothers he had no chance, and they all knew it.

“He won’t be long,” John reminded him. “More water, Scott?” The plastic cup was offered again; this time Scott took hold of it with his own hands, no longer visibly trembling. John obediently let go, but his hands hovered in catching range as Scott took another drink.

Alan appeared just as he lowered the cup again, medscanner clutched in one hand. He looked openly relieved to see that Scott was breathing again, but still deployed it as soon as it was in range.

The light flickered over their brother, and a moment later a holographic representation of Scott was hovering in the air in front of them. Superficial bruising, it declared, but to Virgil’s great relief there was nothing more serious than that.

All in all, Scott had escaped more or less unscathed, and with the scan proving it, they had no reason to keep Scott pinned to the floor. Virgil still insisted on helping him to his feet again, to a fond eyeroll that said Scott was humouring him, and as a unit all of the brothers returned to the table.

None of them were particularly keen to continue eating dinner. The black lump sat innocently on the table, a reminder of what their grandmother’s cooking was capable of, and after a moment of staring at their half-finished plates they unanimously decided not to risk any more of it.

“Takeout?” Gordon suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Virgil agreed, pushing the plate in front of him away. The rest of his brothers followed suit.

“I’ll go get pizza,” Scott volunteered, making his way to his feet. Virgil’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could take a step – on Scott’s other side, Gordon had apparently had the same idea.

Opposite, John had already brought up a menu and started placing an order. “It’ll be ready for pickup in fifteen minutes,” he said. “It’s the usual place, Alan.”

Scott made a noise of affronted protest, but their youngest brother beamed and darted out of the kitchen with an “F.A.B!”

“Give yourself a bit longer to recover before you break the sound barrier,” Virgil told Scott, amused. His eldest brother huffed at him, but reluctantly conceded the point and sat back down again. “So, who’s clearing this up?”

John and Gordon looked at each other warily. For his part, Virgil pressed his shoulder against Scott’s, making it perfectly clear that he was needed on observation. Just in case. Neither of his other brothers seemed particularly pleased with the silent declaration, but didn’t argue. Instead, they sprung into a game of rock-paper-scissors.

John won, and settled back smugly where he sat, tablet seemingly taking up all of his attention as Gordon whined.

“It’s not so bad,” Scott told him. “Look, I’ll help.” He was halfway to standing by the time Gordon clutched at his shoulders and pushed him back down again.

“No, no,” he said. “It’s fine. You need to stay put, otherwise Virgil’ll get grumpy.” Virgil rolled his eyes; he wasn’t the only one that would protest, and they all knew it.

As Gordon started gathering up the abandoned plates, the blast shutters slid across, shutting out the retracting pool before the silver rocket launched into the sky.

Virgil saw the longing glance Scott sent his ‘bird as she rapidly vanished from sight and squeezed his shoulder.

“Food’ll be here soon,” he promised, knowing full well that that wasn’t the reason behind the look. They all got angsty whenever someone else took their ‘birds out instead, after all. “Try not to choke on it this time.”

Scott swatted at him as Gordon barked out a laugh.

“We’ll make sure to cut it up nice and small for you,” the aquanaut grinned. “After-”

In one swift motion, Scott scooped up the now-empty cup and hurled it at him. Gordon lunged to the side as it sailed past him.

“Hey!”

“Just helping you clear the table,” Scott said sunnily. His hand crept towards one of the plates and Gordon jolted forwards with another yelp to snatch it up first, even though they all knew Scott wouldn’t actually throw something breakable. Grandma would kill him if he did.

“I don’t need help from someone who couldn’t swallow his food properly,” Gordon retorted, ducking away from the swipe that comment earned him. “Why don’t you go sit by the pool for a few minutes? We’ve got half an hour until pizza.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil chipped in, taking hold of Scott’s elbow. “Let’s leave him to it.” Scott smirked in agreement and stood up, leading the way out through the once-again open shutters. Behind them, John muttered something about burning, and Virgil surmised that he wasn’t planning on becoming as crispy as whatever Scott had choked on.

Scott sprawled onto one of the loungers, and Virgil would have thought it nothing particularly out of the ordinary for the times Scott did use them, except for the hand that briefly rubbed at his throat again in passing.

It seemed to be a subconscious gesture rather than a point for concern, but Virgil pointed the scanner at him again, just to be on the safe side. Scott jumped as the light flickered over him again, and sighed when his eyes focused on the device.

“Didn’t you already do that?”

“No harm in checking twice,” Virgil pointed out. The result came back the same as before, to his relief.

Scott hummed at him, but didn’t dispute it. Then again, the result was in his favour, so he had no reason to. Content that his brother would be fine soon enough, Virgil let the conversation lapse into silence. In the kitchen, Gordon was grumbling about clearing up by himself, and every so often John sniped something in return. Normal sounds, at least when John was dirtside. Beside him, Scott was also silent, seemingly content to listen to their brothers without interrupting.

There really was no such thing as silence in their home. As long as it didn’t herald something worrying, Virgil wouldn’t have it any other way.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #drabbles #thunderwhump #thunderfluff #choke

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 3 years ago

Text

TAYLOR MOMSEN, AMY LEE, MARIA BRINK & LZZY HALE DISCUSS LABELS IN MUSIC

Before there was Amy Lee, Lzzy Hale, Taylor Momsen and Maria Brink, there was Joan Jett, Patti Smith, Poly Styrene and Kathleen Hanna. Generation after generation, these rock stars and others in their position have dreaded receiving what has become an inevitable label of “female-led,” “female-fronted,” “women in rock” or “female rock.” While all of these talented individuals recognize their gender, none of them need a reminder of it—and furthermore, none of them need to be categorized into a nonexistent subdivision of rock music branded to keep women from reaching a certain level of success and stardom.

Through their talent and perseverance, each of them has pressed beyond societal limitations in their career field and has been dismantling the patriarchy that exists in the rock ’n’ roll industry. Besides, rock and punk were created on the foundation of defiance and rebellion.

While Lee (Evanescence), Hale (Halestorm), Momsen (The Pretty Reckless) and Brink (In This Moment) have all linked together in some form through their spider web of connections and passion to tour together or collaborate with one another, they’ve remained supportive of each other and hopeful for the future of rock despite the healthy competition of working in the same genre. Regardless of their personal and professional battles with the unknown created by the pandemic, Lee (The Bitter Truth), Momsen (Death By Rock And Roll) and Brink (Mother) all released albums, while Hale has already made strides on her next body of work. Originally, this round table was intended to highlight the misogyny of the entertainment industry and focus on each artists’ strengths. But after a raw and honest observation of this virtual gathering, we collectively shifted direction to the true resonance of women’s empowerment.

I want to talk about how in the music industry, women are oftentimes made to feel like there’s not enough room for women to be in music. But you all have worked to break that stigma. You support each other, you’ve worked together and some of you have toured together. How did you make sure to continuously do that, and why was it so important?

AMY LEE: I think it’s funny because it goes along with giving men what they want, the feminism/sexism question of, “Why is there that stigma that women are going to fight each other and there’s only room for one?” And there’s always been this thought in my mind that that’s actually a misogynistic idea because they want to see a catfight. They want us to mud wrestle. They want to imagine that we all want to just tear each other apart, and the clothes are coming off. [It’s] this ridiculous thing because in life, of course, we’ve all definitely been around very competitive women that are tough to be around. I don’t have friends like that. I don’t know about you all, but it’s hard to be around those girls. They’re usually just really angry. But overwhelmingly, the people that we are and that we want to surround ourselves with are people that lift each other up, and we want to see each other do well. I need my women in my life. I need my girlfriends, my sisters, my grandmas. That means so much to have that understanding, support, friendship and camaraderie.

LZZY HALE: Well, Amy, it’s funny because when I was tailing you in the music scene because you had blown the door open with “Bring Me To Life,” and when we got signed and we were starting to pitch stuff to radio, I can’t tell you how many times the radio program director would be like, “Well, we’ve already got one. We’ve already got our token girl on the rock radio.”

LEE: Yeah, only one chick because that’s a genre.

HALE: Exactly. That becomes disheartening to young women looking up trying to do these things. Of course, I’m like, “Well, that’s ridiculous. I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing.” But to answer your question, the vast majority of women in this business, and in this genre specifically, all four of us support each other. We’ve worked together. We’ve toured together. We want to see each other succeed. We repost each other’s music when it comes out because we are sisters. And that means a lot to us because of that very same question where we were coming up in the scene believing that, “Oh, we’re all in competition, and we should be.” And when we actually got here and arrived, that’s really not true. And to Amy’s point, any girl that actually thinks that way, it’s just because she’s been so incredibly beaten down and insecure about what she does. So she’s in that mindset.

TAYLOR MOMSEN: I don’t disagree with anything either of you said, but I also think that competition is a good thing.

HALE: Well, there’s definitely friendly competition.

MOMSEN: Yeah, but I also think that competition is something that forces you to examine yourself and make yourself better and pushes you forward. To say that there isn’t competition, I think that that’s a false statement. It doesn’t necessarily have to come from a negative standpoint. We’re all competitive here. We’re all putting out our own records. I think competition is a really healthy thing. And I think it’s a very necessary thing, especially in music. And I think especially when it gets related to women, people tend to equate that to girl fights. And it’s like, “No.” I love all you girls, and I’m very supportive of everything that you do. I think that it’s healthy.

LEE: We want to be competitive in the same game [and] held to the same standards as all the guys. Competition isn’t just between us. This isn’t the circle of fighting.

MOMSEN: No, the competition is just the competition of the overall rock ’n’ roll world.

LEE: Totally. And we’ve talked about that before, how it’s really more about dropping the subject. I don’t want the qualifier to be, “Hey, this is the female this. So give this some extra credit.” Just drop it. I want to be the best because our music is the best, period. It doesn’t have anything to do with anything else.

MOMSEN: 1,000%. I think that Amy just hit the nail on the head because, to me, we get asked, “What’s it like to be a woman in rock?” And I’m like, “I don’t know. It’s the same.” To me, it’s like, “Who’s writing the best songs? Who’s putting out the best music? Who’s making the best material?” That’s who I’m looking up to. And it has nothing to do with their gender. In one way, I feel like the more we talk about it and the more we put a stigma on it, you’re just prolonging the problem when really it shouldn’t be a topic of conversation at all.

LEE: Before we started, I was thinking, women’s empowerment is if we didn’t talk about women’s empowerment at all and actually spent this hour talking about our music and what we do.

I want to talk about music. Lzzy, I know you’re working on new music. Amy, you’ve got a new album out. Taylor, you just put on an incredible album. And Maria, you put out an album in March 2020. Taking an album on tour, being onstage and being around the people that support you is an empowering feeling. How are you navigating not being able to take what you’ve put your blood, sweat and tears into out to your fans?

LEE: I especially like when you’re making music, and I’m thinking about the show like, “Oh, this is going to be the cool part of the set when it all starts out, and the lights are low and then boom—the guitars come in, and then this happens.” And that feeling of “I can’t wait to do this” still exists. We’re all in the same boat as everybody else that we don’t know what’s going to happen next and how long things are really going to take. But it’s hard just because I miss that. You want that feeling. It’s not just about praise. I want to see hands in the air.

MOMSEN: I think that, especially now in the crazy times we’re living in, people need music more now than ever. I think music has such a healing quality to it. Withholding it till you can have that magical moment onstage again feels almost unfair to the fans. So that’s why we decided to put our album out. But of course, as Amy said, you miss playing live. That symbiotic relationship that you have with the fans when you’re onstage, it’s for one moment. It’s for one night. It doesn’t exist virtually. But I think that we all have to remember, and that includes the fans and everyone, too, [that] as long as we’re patient and do our part, it’s gonna come back. Live shows aren’t gone forever. When they do come back, it’s going to be bigger and better than ever because everyone’s been missing them so much that they’re just going to explode.

HALE: Even when we started Halestorm when I was 13, we at least had two bowling alley gigs a month. [Laughs.] I’ve never gone this long without a live show. We’re out on the road all the time, and we do consider ourselves, first and foremost, a live band. That’s what we love the most. Not that we don’t love recording and creating—that’s a whole part of it. It’s been really hard for me, actually, because I’ve had to look at myself in a different way. I’ve had to get to know myself again, and who am I without this? Who am I without the stage? Who am I without having that constant goal that, “OK, we’re going on tour in eight days, for seven weeks?” It’s always been that way. In one way, there is a silver lining to that because all of the songs that I was writing pre-quarantine and pre-COVID, we still have them, and we’re still recording them, but I think it made me look at everything just a little deeper.

MARIA BRINK: We were all scared and glued to the TV in the beginning, and I didn’t know if it was The Walking Dead or what was happening. So I think that we just wanted to release it. We were nervous to do it. Our album cycle is over now, and we’ve never toured the album once. That’s never happened to us ever. But I think it was a blessing, and then we wound up getting nominated for a Grammy. And we were like, “Thank God for all that.” But I think everything in this has had its pros and then its cons. There have been really beautiful things, being able to be around my family and focus on the things in my home I never get to focus on. Like Lzzy was saying, finding things in myself, empowering myself, learning more about the music business, learning more about all of my numbers, all of my things. There have been a lot of powerful things like that. Some of the negatives for me are probably, psychologically, I do the type of music that I do to release a lot of my inner darkness or trauma or rage. In my everyday life, I’m very kind and sweet and caring. I don’t walk around angry. So for me, that’s like my real outlet onstage. I can release all the fire, and it doesn’t explode and build up in me and make me crazy.

I think that music will come out of this because I’m starting to write now, too. The best music in the world usually is written from pain and fear and the unknown. All these things that all of us are going through in this whole year with just the politics and Black Lives Matter and COVID-19, we’re all filled with so many emotions that we’re probably going to all write really good music. So that’s the real positive thing that I think’s been for all of this. Everything’s about balance. We’re all powerful, and we can find the good in all this.

#Taylor Momsen #the pretty reckless #Amy Lee #Evanescence #maria brink #In This Moment #lzzy hale #Halestorm #2021 interviews

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years ago

Text

Go Go Let's Go! Let's Go! Dateko! (Pt 2. Smut)

⚠️THIS FIC IS 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI ⚠️

Warnings: swearing, gross amount of fluff, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cum play, cum eating, implied shower sex

Word Count: 7,000 +

Kenji refused to tell you where the tournament was in hopes that you would just not show. But you knew better. Not only would you get to see your son play but lord that coach!

You wandered into the Date Tech section as you lean over the railings. The team is gathered around the bench ad the coach is giving them a pep talk before the game

"Futakuchi you're mom came" Obara laughs as he nudges Kenji.

"Please don't make eye contact with her it will only encourage her" he says as he places his hands on his face.

Coach Oiwake turns to see you beaming as you wave to the team. He gives you a small nod and a smile as you blush and take your seat.

"Miss Futakuchi?" A voice from besides you says.

"Oh Moniwa! It's so good to see you!" You smile as you wave to the other boys.

The boys look at you as Moniwa introduces you "this is Futakuchi's mom! Miss Futakuchi, this is Kamasaki and Sasaya both former third years on the team."

"It's so nice to meet you boys! I'd like to apologize for my idiot son's ignorance as an underclassmen. He deserves to feel the pain of being team captain" you say as you smile to the boys.

The game progresses quickly as you catch glimpse of the coach looking up at you when he is able to spare a second. You catch his eyes smiling at him.

Kamasaki whispers to Moniwa and Sasaya "damn coach has got it out for Futakuchi's mom. You see those looks."

Moniwa rolls his eyes "come on man knock it off"

He looks to you ad he sees his former coach staring right at you

"Ok you right" Moniwa says as Kamasaki crosses his arms laughing.

After the game you proceed the hallway to wait for the boys with the third years. Kenji and the team walk up to you as Kenji rolls his eyes and buries his face.

"Oh knock it off Kenji. You act like I'm the most embarrassing thing in your life" you say as the third years and the team laugh.

"Mom notice how no other parents are here? That's because they care about their kids reputations" he says as he glares at you.

"Awe baby I care. Just not enough" you say as you laugh walking past the boys.

"Good game guys" you say waving as you round the corner.

You walk straight into coach Oiwake as he's reviewing his notes.

"Oh Y/N. I'm so sorry I didn't see you there" he says flustered

"Oh gosh it was all me! I'm such a klutz" you says laughing awkwardly.

"Say thanks for coming out to support the team. I know the boys appreciated it" he smiles.

"Everyone but Kenji" you chuckle as he laughs.

"I'm sure Futakuchi enjoyed it too. He's just into his roll as captain" coach says as he looks down.

"Say Y/N I was wondering" he says as he scratches the back of his head "would you like to have coffee sometime?"

You smile softly "of course Takuro! Only if we don't tell Kenji."

"Deal" he says as he smiles at you.

You started seeing Takuro as often as you could. You could talk nightly on the phone and see each other when you could. It helped that Kenji was the team captain and had his own active social life. Still it was hard to sneak away without him noticing.

You had been secretly seeing Takuro for a few weeks. Things were getting pretty steamy between the two of you. You had several heated makeout sessions with Takuro but nothing even went further. You always had to leave because Kenji expected you home and you already hated lying to your son about your relationship with his coach.

Takuro had asked you to spend the night with him the week prior and you had agreed. All you needed was a plan to convince Kenji of your absence. You start pondering as you begin preparing lunch. You had to tell him something as go why you wouldn't be home. He knew you didn't work this weekend so that wasn't good enough.

"Hey mom I won't be home this weekend" Kenji said as he rushed into the kitchen

well shit that was easy

"Oh where are you going" you question.

"Obara invited me to a party tonight and them tomorrow we are having a game with the third years. Those losers keep hanging around so we might as well put them to use" Kenji says as he chuckles.

You laugh "ok well don't do anything I wouldn't do"

"Geez mom don't set the bar too high. You literally use to sneak out of grandma and grandpa's house all the time" he laughed

"Hey HEY" you say trying to stay serious "ok yeah I was an awful kid. Go be free my child". You wave Kenji off as he bids you goodbye.

You smile as you text Takuro that you will be over tonight. You tell him your going to run to the store to grab ingredients to prepare dinner for the two of you.

As the night approaches you leave for Takuro’s house. You arrive at the store as you begin to shop. Suddenly a hand snakes around your waist as a face presses to your neck.

"I SWEAR TO GOD I HAVE A TASER" you scream as the voice laughs.

"I can't ever be cute can I?" Takuro laughs as you calm down from your near heart attack.

"Well not if you're going to stalk me! Jesus Takuro" you huff.

"I couldn't wait to see you sweetheart" he says as he kisses your neck. You giggle as he focuses on your sweet spot.

Unbeknownst to you, 2 pairs of eyes watch from outside the store window.

"Futakuchi isn't that your mom?" Obara says as he stops walking outside the store.

Kenji looks up and sees you hugging Coach Oiwake as he kisses your neck.

"What the fuck?" Kenji says angerly.

"Dude let's go before they see us" Obara pushes Kenji past the store window as Kenji feels his face heat with anger.

How could you lie to him?

You grab your groceries as Takuro carries them to your car.

You arrive at Takuro's house as you prepare to exit your car. He runs up to your car door, swinging it open as he grabs you from the seat.

"JESUS CHRIST TAKURO YOUR'RE GOING TO GIVE ME WHIPLASH" you scream as he tosses you over his shoulder, spanking your ass as he carries you inside.

He sets you down as he starts to kiss you deeply, pulling his track jacket off as he pulls your cardigan from your shoulders.

You giggle as he releases you lips and travels to your neck "impatient much? I just got here what's the rush big shoots?"

"Can't wait any longer" he says as he pulls away from you looking at you "you just drive me nuts Y/N. I just need you so bad."

He kisses you neck violently as he grasps you ass pulling you up to him. He signals for you to jump as he carries you to his room.

"Wait the groceries" you say in-between his kisses as his hands start to travel up your tank top.

"It's fine baby" he says as he lightly tickles your skin as he kisses you. He licks your lower lip asking for access as you pull away. You get up on your knees and crawl away from him towards the top of the bed. You sit on your knees and you cross your arms over your chest.

The man is flustered. His head hangs low as his arms rest on the bed, his muscles stretching his white t-shirt.

"No more sir until you get my groceries in" you pout as you look away from him trying to keep a straight face.

"Fuck-ok" he says waving his hand as he walks to your car to retrieve the groceries. You take the opportunity to strip your clothes, revealing your matching lace bra and panties set.

You kneel at the edge I the bed, waiting for Takuro to come back. Your hands resting on your lush thighs.

"Ok baby no-" Takuro begins to say as he walks into his room.

He stops as his eyes literally bulge from his head.

"Fuck" he whispers as he falls falls to his knees at the sight of your gorgeous body clad only in a small amount of fabric.

"D-Do you like it?" You say shyly. It wasn't like you to be self conscious but then again you haven't had sex in years.

Takuro can't speak.

you literally broke the man Y/N. RIP Coach Oiwake Takuro 2021

He just stares as you start to feel self conscious.

He gets up and walks over to you as he leans in front of you face. He smiles at you as he grabs the back of your head pulling you into a heated kiss.

He guides you back on the bed as you toy with the hem of his shirt. He straddles you as he sits up removing his shirt.

Fuck the man is built. For being in his late 40s he's sculpted like a Greek statue. You feel up his chest as he kisses you deeply exploring your mouth with his tongue. He releases you from the kiss as he stares down at you.

"Y/N I'm going fucking worship you baby" he says as he kisses down your neck.

You feel your core heat up as your panties begin to get wetter and wetter with every kiss. You can't help but moan as he reaches your sensitive spots.

He works his way down your chest. He kisses your nipples over your lingerie as he moves the straps down to kiss your shoulders.

"We are going to leave this on because it's driving me insane" he says as he tugs at your bra. The straps down on your lower arms as the cups barely hold your full breasts.

He moves to your stomach as he kisses every square inch. The man is romantic as hell!

"You ready sweetheart" he says as he moves his fingers into your panties.

You nod as you pull your lip between your teeth. You can't believe how wet you are.

Takuro slowly pulls down your panties as a string of your essence glides with the panties.

"Fuck" he says as he rests his head in your thigh "whatever God decided to bless me fucking THANK YOU"

You giggle as he kisses your inner thighs. You moan at the feeling and growing sensation. He looks up at you as he spreads your pussy lips with his fingers and takes a long lick of your wet slit.

You shiver as your back arches. Takuro takes no time diving into his new home.

Fuck you were so wet and you tasted so good.

"Holy shit Takurō. Fuck right there" you screams as your back begins to arch high and higher. You've never had oral like this before.

"Fuck yes yes yes right there keep going. Omg fuck I'm going to cum" you say as you grab his head and push it further into your cunt. You rub your cunt on his face as the rope inside you snaps.

You screams as you cum hard on your lovers face.

Takuro backs up as he kisses your thighs. He slowly inserts two fingers into your already sensitive pussy as he begins to move them.

"Cum again sweetheart. I need more" he says as he pushes two fingers into your sopping wet cunt. You're still riding out the high from your previous orgasm as he leans over, pulling you up to meet him in a deep kiss.

He grabs your hair as he pulls it back exposing the column of your neck to his lips. He probes your cunt faster as you feel yourself building up.

"Ahhh ahh fuck Taku, ah" you cry as he kisses your neck quickening the speed of his fingers.

"Come on baby give me one more and then I'll fuck this tight little pussy. Please give me one more" he says as you feel your core snap as your cunt spasm around his fingers.

You fall back to the bed as he stands up removing his pants. You stare at his long cock with wide eyes.

"I'll be gentle angel" he says as he reaches for a condom.

You shake your head "I want you to cum in my mouth. Fuck me raw and cum in my mouth Takuro" you say seductively as you pull your lower lip into between your teeth.

"Baby you- you can't say shit like that. Fuck" he says as he flips you around to all fours as he lines up his cock.

"Let me suck you please" you say looking over your shoulder with doe eyes.

"Later baby later I-I'm not waiting any longer to fuck you" he says as he slowly starts to push is cock into your wet entrance.

"Holy- Y/N baby you need to relax" he says as he grabs your hips stopping himself from moving further.

"Relax? I haven't been fucked in years and you want me to relax?" You say as you trust yourself backwards impaling yourself on his hard cock.

"Fucking shit Y/N! God dammit I want to last longer than a minute" he shouts as he spanks your ass. You refuse to listen as you propel yourself back to his cock as he tries to hold you off.

"I swear to God if you don't fuck me-" you say as he flips you around standing up and yanking you down to the edge of the bed as you lay on your elbows.

"You'll do what Y/N?" He says in a sadistic voice as he pushes his cock all the way into your cunt in one swift movement.

"Shit" he chokes "God baby this is the tightest cunt" he says as he pulls back, setting a brutal pace as his balls slap your ass.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel every single centimeter of his cock on your inside walls.

"Fuck Y/N baby are you close" he says as he looks down to you.

You're gone. Where even are you Y/N? Come back to earth Y/N!

"Shit baby I'm going to cum soon you feel so fucking amazing. Fuck I'm going to worship this pussy everyday until I die" he chokes

"Oh Takuro, fuck-fuck I'm going to cum please keep going" you manage to say as he pushes forward trying to bring you to orgasm.

You feel your core snap again as the quick rise and fall of your orgasms over sweeps your body.

"Fuck baby are you ready" he says giving you a moment to recover.

He pulls out as you sink to the floor between his legs opening your mouth to receive his juices.

He jerks his cock as you sit with your mouth wide open "Oh fuck Y/N- baby UGH" he says as he shouts rope after rope of cum into your mouth.

You happily accept his gift as he groans and pants, his abs retracting from the intense orgasm. He throws his head back as he finishes and you wipe up the little cum that managed to fall to the side your lips.

He pulls back ad he sees his fluids in your mouth and on your tongue. You close your mouth, reopening to show him that you had swallowed what he had offered to you.

He kneels down to your face as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

"That was the best sex I've ever had" he chuckles as you smile.

"Yeah it was at least a solid 8" you tease as his eyes widen.

"An 8? Well we can't have that now can we. Date Tech strives to be the best so I only accept 10 and above" he says grabbing you as he carries you to the shower.

He fucks you in the shower until your brain is numb. He suck is cock as you make him finish for a second time during your hour long shower. You both emerge completely blissed out and exhausted.

"I’m hungry" you say as you cuddle into his stomach and he pulls up close.

"Well it's a good thing I brought it those groceries" he says.

"You mean the groceries I MADE you bring in" you say looking up at him.

"Well the trip was worth it because look what I came back too" he says as he hoisting you above him to straddle his waist.

#dateko #date tech #Oiwake Takuro #justiceforthehaikyuucoachs #haikyuu #haikyuucoaches #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#team mom series #teammom #team mom

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wincore · 4 years ago

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vixen | nakamoto yuta

pairing: kitsune!yuta x female!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: every year, you visit the fox who claims to know everything about you.

genre: fantasy/folklore, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: suggestive, mention of past bullying, one excessively flirty nakamoto yuta

song rec(s): clear and sunny - sou (cover)

a/n: this is for all you furries who aren’t quite furries yet muah (im joking) but aaaa love exploring folklore and also i should put in a disclaimer that not every aspect adheres to the original tales of the kitsune <3 i did not proofread btw and i am very sorry

Some things never change.

Examples: boys, shitty friends, death, and the scent of nostalgia. To you, that very scent happens to be the earthy smell of chrysanthemums and a faint waft of spices from the kitchen in your parents’ house. To you, October is not just another month. To you, there is one more thing that never changes and it is not your belief in old ghost stories.

Around this time of the year, the autumn festival begins in a flurry of vibrant red smudges and a whiff of excitement, in streets suddenly brought alive. The skies are candied orange, and it’s the only time you aren’t tired of home. This time is also when you find yourself right in the clutches of the one demon you swore you’d avoid for the rest of your life. You swore. It’s not your fault that said demon is a little, let’s say, tempting.

Tempting in the most vexing, infuriating way possible. Bewitching, cruel, seducing—all that foxes are and all that you’ve heard of them could not have prepared you for an encounter. Folklore runs deep through you. The memories of a certain fox-boy run deeper.

It is not the festival you are here for.

You yawn, leaning against the wooden door frame of the shop. It would be inappropriate to fall asleep on the job, especially since there are a bunch of children staring idly at you. You close your mouth quickly, resting the back of your hand against your lips. Late afternoon is an easy time to fall asleep. You have half the mind to snarl at the kids to scare them off, their gaze getting on your nerves and when you think you will, you turn the other way. Manners come first to you, no matter how temperamental you get.

The procession has gathered a crowd. Some shouts and squeals from the children make you slump further. At least they’re having fun with whatever stupid game they’re playing. You breathe in the autumn air. A part of you wonders if you simply let your feet lead you down the stairs, you’d be free of this entire ordeal. You shake your head. Temptation has always been hard to resist—never meant to be resisted but you’re much older now. There is dignity to be answered.

October is mild—your grandmother’s shop is still on the verge of collapse, your mother still yells at you for misplacing kitchen utensils and your old friends from school still gossip about who you’re dating. It’s like the script never changes; people change the meaning, twist their words in the same old pattern. If you were a little less behaved, you would have poured your drink over their heads yesterday.

You clench your jaw. It’s always an ‘Oh, you’re so attractive’ and an ‘I wish I could date as many men as you do but I’m loyal to my boyfriend’, or even a ‘Must be nice being surrounded by boys all the time’. You know what they mean. It’s not the first time you’ve been called a fox, and you don’t think it’ll be the last—at least until you decide to stop letting your hometown suffocate you. Maybe you’ll accept what they say. You have heard of what hatred left unchecked can do.

If you’re honest, you haven’t been with too many men. If you’re a little more honest, none of them have ever made your heart race.

You watch the children play with a keen eye, their painted masks ridiculously large for their faces and in brightly coloured clothes contrasting well with the town. You might not be allowed to fall asleep, but there’s nothing against closing your eyes for a second or two.

The image of glinting yellow eyes and a fanged smile pop up and you quickly open your eyes. You don’t know why your heart beats so loud at the mere thought of him, thoughts in which his lips are full and painted red, and his bright smile is stretched upon them. Sometimes, the thought of him is in gentle washes, his hand fixing your hair, or a flirty smile when you dare stumble upon him on a particularly sleepless night. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. That is not love. Some sort of embarrassing attraction, maybe. However, the friendship you have is worse.

“I see you’re a slacker as always.”

Your grandmother’s voice breaks you out of your cycle of thoughts and you’re almost grateful.

“I sold approximately zero sweets,” you snort. “Why can’t we just do away with the shop?”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother,” your grandma calls from behind one of the counters, distaste ringing clear in her voice.

You sigh. “Fine, but… you work way too hard to make these for them to not sell.”

“Maybe they would sell if a certain little lady would stay and help.”

You groan, leaning your head back. “You know I have work in the city.”

Your grandmother waves her hand about, dismissing your reasoning. She fiddles around in the shadows for a bit before coming forward with more boxes than she should be able to hold.

“You don’t have to feel too guilty. Yuta’s been helping out,” your grandmother informs fondly. “You could learn a thing or two from him.”

You’re not the superstitious sort and yet still, your heart beats faster. For him, or for the bad omens foxes bring to a household—you don’t know.

You scoff instead. “He’s not as great a guy as you think, grandma. He can be really mean too!”

“Oh, I doubt that. Have you seen his smile? Impossible.” Your grandmother waves it off before drawing nearer, voice hushed without reason. “Have you thought about it then? He is handsome, isn’t he?”

“Grandma.”

You’re not sure what old women go through in their youth that makes them something of a matchmaker in their later years. You think the whole ordeal is messed up. There is no way you’re going to stick your nose into your grandchildren’s love life; it’s gross.

“These should be enough for the children, no?” Your grandmother asks and you look up.

“You’re giving them away for free?” you question, furrowing your eyebrows. “And you talk about bad business.”

She places her hand on her hip, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re going to lecture your grandmother?”

You raise your hands up in defeat, standing up to help her with the red boxes of acorn candy and paper wraps of roasted chestnuts. You end up with the entire load in your arms, your grandmother happily shuffling about as she locks up the store.

You turn sharply at the surprised sound behind you. The evening has settled in and glowing lanterns bring forward the evidence, the darkening streets flooding with round droplets of light.

But it is not the festival you are looking at.

Yuta looks somewhat serene, your cheeks heating up despite yourself. You look at him with bated breath, hoping the boxes obscure your face enough to make the vaguely positive emotions less evident. The dark red jacket draped over his shoulder does not look out of place—in fact, he fits in so well you would’ve mistaken him for another face in the crowd if he weren’t stupidly gorgeous. He looks at you with no strong emotion in the eyes before breaking into a smile; and when his hand strokes the top of your head as a greeting, he seems fond. He always does.

“Grandma,” he calls with his best smile, turning to the old woman.

Your grandmother doesn’t need any more convincing of his character.

“Oh, there you are! Did I tell you (name)’s back? I wanted to break the news to you earlier. Ah…I must have forgotten.”

You glance from Yuta to her. Is this another one of her tricks and tests?

“She’s always here this time of the year,” he responds, laughing politely.

“Ah, you remembered,” she says, eyes crescent as she smiles back. “Help her with the boxes. The city has made her so frail.”

“I’m good,” you choke on the words, hurriedly moving away and almost dropping one of the boxes.

You slip on your sandals and scurry off faster, wishing he’d just stay behind. He always has. The air makes you shiver but you’re adamant; and it’s not the only trait of yours to make relationships fail.

“You know, you should be nicer to old friends.”

You try not to react when Yuta takes the boxes from you, matching your pace almost effortlessly.

“I thought foxes ran away once they’re found out,” you snap, reluctantly letting him take the packages.

Yuta rolls his eyes. “I see you still aren’t very fond of me.”

“Not when you’re tricking my grandmother like this,” you hiss.

“You call helping trickery?” he retaliates.

“Foxes bring bad business,” you mutter.

“I’m the reason your grandmother’s business is somewhat above the water.”

You sigh, exasperated. There’s no point in wasting your breath. You look away, crossing your arms as you walk, the silence between the two of you suddenly awkward. Even so, you’re not going to open your mouth for him.

“Would you two slow down?” your grandmother calls, voice weary. “We’re already there.”

The two of you halt in your tracks immediately, taking mellow steps back to her. She looks over the two of you with furrowed eyebrows and you try to think of an explanation when she starts laughing.

“Oh, I don’t mind the two of you flirting,” she says, littered with slow laughter. “Just make sure the food is where it’s supposed to be.”

You’re about to refute when Yuta laughs, the sound still boyish and lively. “Of course. (name) missed me so much this year, she couldn’t help herself.”

You give him a pointed look which he ignores, deliberately or not. “We- I wasn’t—”

“Grandmother, if you’ll give us permission,” he interrupts, settling the packages on the table by the food stall and smiling wide. “We’ll go enjoy the festival now.”

She bobs her head in affirmation and Yuta grabs your hand to pull you into the bustling street, your silent plea for help ignored by your smug grandmother.

“What are you doing?” you ask, slipping your hand from his. “You aren’t- You aren’t trying to eat my liver, are you?”

“Why the liver? Can’t I have the rest of you too?”

It’s not like you were particularly alarmed but his response makes you feel a flush of embarrassment.

“It’s been a year since I last saw you,” he says before his voice turns a shade cooler. “Have you thought about my proposal?”

You fall silent. The overthinking started last year too. Your thoughts and dreams, so easily pervaded by him and all it took was one sentence.

“We should get married.”

“Why did you even think I’d agree to that?” You try not to get too flustered. He knows all your petty weaknesses and you’d rather not have them on display for him to stare and pick at. “What the fuck would I get out of marrying you?”

Yuta whistles. “I like your tongue. But—yes, to answer your question, you’d get a very handsome and capable husband. Your bed will always be warm and oh, speaking of beds—”

You clamp your hand over his mouth at the suggestive look he sends, worried about being spotted by one of your school friends. Ah, right—friends, the very same people that smell of jealousy and won’t miss any opportunity to throw a jab your way. Friends. You can’t believe you’re still afraid of their judgement.

“And why do you want to get married to me?” you ask, looking into his eyes.

There’s a pause, filled with the chatter of the crowd.

“You look like you’re afraid of finding someone,” he speaks finally, ignoring your question. “Or is it the other way around?”

You roll your eyes, ready to walk off when he grabs your wrist to pull you closer to his chest. It draws some looks from nearby people, your eyes darting from face to face in fear. You take a deep breath and look at Yuta again, almond eyes distracting.

“People will think we’re lovers,” you whisper, almost a hiss.

“What’s wrong with that?”

You breathe out in disbelief. “You’re really something.”

“What? Why did you always come to meet me then? Behind the keyaki tree?”

“It wasn’t for you,” you lie quickly. “I had nothing better to do.”

Pining after a fox? You could never have feelings for him. Even so, your answer comes off childish and silly, and somehow he’s the only one to be able to draw that side of you—the you that is messy and unprepared.

Yuta smiles in return. “You think people can’t fall in love with us the same way they fall in love with most everything.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“How conservative of you,” he leaves with an airy remark, but not before urging you to follow him.

The sizzling sound of food being fried and the knocking, clicking sound of children playing games, all these forgotten sounds grow louder and for a second, if only you let yourself, you could close your eyes and it would be just like your first date.

No. It’s different. You look up, eyes trailing over Yuta’s back, his golden hair, how his figure moves with ease and confidence.

It is different.

You raise an eyebrow at the box of takoyaki Yuta shoves towards you, an expecting look across his face.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice.

You hum in response, taking the box from him and saving yourself the trouble of asking whether he paid for it or simply charmed his way through.

“Eh, no thank you?” he complains. “How polite.”

You scrunch your nose to accompany an exaggerated smile and he laughs, the two of wandering over the asphalt streets. Your hands are close enough to brush—and if a twenty-something year-old woman can feel jittery because of it, hands truly are meant to share warmth. The smell of candy and caramel fills the air, making you smile. You’ve saved enough for the taste of home, you think.

The taste of home.

Inevitably, the thought of kissing your companion crosses your mind and you stop in your tracks. Whatever. It must be natural when someone as attractive is beside you. Those aren’t feelings. You curse yourself for feeling like a teenager again.

The festival grounds aren’t as shabby as you expect them to be. The city,—if you could call this one—stops here and the earth spreads out to the forest behind. The crowd also thins, and you take a fresh breath. They’re selling old books in the corner, but no one seems to be there.

“The raccoon dogs,” Yuta whispers in your ear, with an arcane smile. “Want to visit those rascals?”

You roll your eyes. He knows you’ve heard one too many folktales for a lifetime, seen one too many. It’s time to go home, especially now that the thought of thanking him crosses your mind. You’re about to turn when your shoulder crashes into someone else’s. A surprised, syrupy smile greets you, which you cannot return for the first few moments. Yui’s smile wavers and you flash her a quick smile. A friend. Her arm is looped through her lover’s, the one she never shuts up about and suddenly the urge to pour water over her head returns.

Yuta glances from you to her before pressing his lips together, as if suppressing laughter. You’re almost offended when Yui laughs flippantly.

“You’re on a date too? I knew you couldn’t stand spending the festival alone,” she says, tugging her lover closer.

People have always told you who you are and what you do. As if they know better.

You smile awkwardly. “It’s… actually not—”

“Oh, don’t be shy.” She gently pats your shoulder before leaning in. “He’s a real catch. As expected from you. You can never leave the boys alone.”

You know what she really means. You’ve heard the same words in high school when she was shoving you into a wall behind the school. The sickening smile is still on her face.

You gulp, feeling sixteen again. The lack of people around somehow makes it more awkward and you’re about to excuse yourself when suddenly, Yuta bumps into Yui and his warm drink spills over her left shoulder. Your eyes widen, more in confusion. When did he leave? You don’t doubt his ability to sneak past people, but surely you couldn’t have been so enraptured in your own feelings that you barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuta says, voice honeyed with surprise.

Yui looks like she’s about to explode when she looks at him, her expression dropping to a calmer one almost immediately.

It’s an easy look to recognize. They always have it when they first meet Yuta, whether it’s the smile that’s too dazzling or the pretty round eyes.

How persuasive, those eyes.

“Ah… I must have not seen you,” she says faintly, and Yuta’s smile widens.

Before he can stir up more trouble, you slip your arm into his and pull him away, not caring for another polite apology to an old, almost nameless face.

“I was having fun,” Yuta complains, voice still smug and calm.

You glare at him and it only seems to add fuel to the fire, to whatever cold fire dances at his fingertips.

“You’re happy, right? Don’t look at me like that. You should reward me.”

You don’t respond, looking away and hoping to get at least a word in about how troublesome he is every single time you visit. Yuta has other plans, however. Leaning his head to look you in the eye, he maintains a distance which looks perfectly decent but feels less than so.

“How about a kiss? I deserve one, don’t I?” He moves his head closer to yours, making you shy away.

You grab him by the belt and pretend to not catch a glimpse of the pleased look on his face as you drag him into a secluded part by the forest.

It’s quieter here, so much that you can almost hear your own heart drumming in your chest, and the faint light of the distant festival grounds doesn’t help much at all. It’s dark as dusk, and you can only make out Yuta’s jawline and a faint smirk over his lips. You think that if a fox ever wanted to eat your liver, this would be the perfect spot.

“You did something,” you finally utter the words. “You did something to me.”

“Why do you think I did something? Do you mean love?” he responds with a cheeky smile. “This means you’ve been thinking about me? How cute—”

“Yuta, stop it,” you warn.

“Or what? You should stop me yourself.”

You grab the lapels of his jacket, the cloth bunching as your knuckles turn white. The anger you feel isn’t the first of its kind—it’s just a little funny how it’s always Yuta every time, making you remember the burning feeling time and time again. You find yourself unable to respond.

“Oh, don’t hold back,” he provokes, leaning in.

You push at his chest in exasperation, but he grabs your wrists before you can retract your hands.

“Scared?” he whispers.

You pull apart anyway, a scowl over your lips. “You’re as annoying as ever. Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Ooh! Sharp claws. You’d be lovely as my fox-bride.” he teases.

Your face flares with heat. “I’m not your… I’m not a fox.”

“I didn’t say a fox, I said—”

“I know what you said,” you snap, massaging your wrist so you don’t have to look at him.

Yuta falls quiet for a moment, voice lower when he speaks again.

“Is it so nasty to be called a fox? There are worse things, you know.”

You scoff, growing increasingly annoyed. “Of course you’d say that. I hate it. I hate this town. I hate foxes and I hate you.”

Yuta places a hand over his chest, gasping with no emotion. Your eyes linger over his long, painted nails a little longer before you meet his eyes. A part of you regrets saying the words but you couldn’t help it. The shroud choking your hometown makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’re here. You hate this place.

But you don’t hate him, after all.

You try to clear yourself of the thought. A gentle gust of wind brings you back to the present, Yuta still glancing at you with no giveaway to what he’s feeling.

“You wouldn’t make a terrible fox though,” he says, eyes sharp. “Don’t they know you’re a vixen already? How many livers will you eat?”

You suck in a breath, tears stinging at your eyes. However, it’s not like you to get so easily affected by him. No. No, somehow that doesn’t make sense either. Those words do hurt from Yuta and you’re not sure if it’s just because he's the only one you didn’t expect them from.

“You…”

“What? Aren’t you going to lash at me again? You’re so predictable.”

His voice is calm despite your obvious annoyance and you feel flames lick at your heart. Your hand moves before you can think, about to meet his cheek when he grabs your wrist. You struggle, trying to pull free but to no avail and you use the other hand to hit him in the chest. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t bother him and that same feline smile curves up his lips.

You feel something you haven’t before, a warm growl at the pit of your stomach.

You push with all your strength, catching Yuta off guard and he stumbles backward but not before pulling you into him. Consequently, either of you lose footing and land on the grass with a sudden thud, Yuta’s side pressed against yours. His hands still clutch your wrist, and he shifts to hover over you.

“We used to wrestle like this as a litter,” he says, erupting into full laughter. “Ah, memories. I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead now.”

Yuta is much stronger than he looks, and he’s taken your tantrum as a source of amusement much to your infuriation. He has your hands pinned back, eyes unaffected as he scans over your face. You try to shift but there’s just too much weight on you. You breathe slowly, chest rising and falling in time with his. His earrings sway gently in the wind, dangling a few inches above you—he’s pretty, so pretty. Admitting defeat has never been your forte but now that your senses are gathering again, you feel a flush of embarrassment for losing your temper.

Or perhaps, it is something else when you register the lack of distance between your noses.

“Playtime’s over,” Yuta coos. “You’re kinda cute when you’re losing.”

He tilts his head, an adoring smile over his lips. For a moment, they’re all you see.

Can a fox comfort you? Can a fox make you feel loved on the darkest of nights? Your mind races with questions your heart does not want to answer.

Yuta leans in to close the distance and despite every nerve in your body, you turn your head away. You can hear him gulp, the following moments painfully quiet before he gets up. Your breath is soft and shallow, lying on the ground till you get enough courage to sit up.

You almost gasp. His tails are clearer under the dim moonlight, all nine of them golden and luxurious. The light hitting his face isn’t any less flattering and once again you are reminded of how handsome he is, fairytale or not.

Yuta looks uncomfortable, and that’s a first for you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know why.

He waves his hand dismissively, annoyed.

“Yuta,” you take a step forward.

“I see the way you look at me,” he says quietly, “Is it not want?”

You fall silent, biting your lip so you don’t retort violently. He doesn’t look particularly malicious when he says that but you do not want to give him the satisfaction of an answer yet.

He quietens for a moment before a look of curiosity flashes across his features.

“What is it then?” he asks. “Is it a secret? Foxes love secrets. Tell me.”

Despite every bone in your body burning up, you find it in yourself to laugh.

“I don’t think I could keep a secret from you if I tried,” you finally say, before bursting into soft laughter again.

Yuta looks at you puzzled, lips parted while he stands frozen as if he were a painting. A daunting, reckless, heavenly painting.

“It’s not want,” you answer quietly. “It’s more than that. Even if I hated it. I like you.”

Yuta’s ears perk up at your confession. “So- so you admit, then? You are interested?”

“I could blame you for this, you know?” You shrug, hugging yourself once the night starts to feel cold again. Yuta begins to take off his jacket when you stop him, gently pressing your palm against his chest.

“You’re a fox, after all,” you whisper. “Like me. What they think of me.”

Yuta purses his lips. “Does it really hurt you? No, wait. Did they- did they—”

“Now, you tell me,” you cut him off. “Why do you insist on getting married—to me?”

There’s a pause. The crickets chirp a merry tune despite the leisurely darkness of the night.

“You’re not terrible,” he says, nonchalantly.

You glare at him and he raises his hands in defeat. He looks wearier the more you look at him.

“I want to grow old,” he mumbles after a long pause. “Properly.”

You hold your breath.

“And you want to do it with me?”

Another flower blooms in your chest, as if he hasn’t planted a garden in there already. The lights from the festival flicker down, the lanterns burning brighter in the distance. He glances at them for a moment, your eyes still fixated on him.

The tails glow even brighter in the dark, as if gold in broad daylight. You’ve always been curious about him and his kind, all the stories; but he says he’s too old to remember if you ask.

You reach out to touch one of the tails, wondering if the fur is as warm as it looks. They’re pale and captivating, but they look so soft—they shouldn’t belong to an animal so vicious. Is he, though? Is he all that you think he is or have all these years failed you? If anything, he’s quite probably not as much a fox as you are, you think bitterly.

The fur is warm, but the realization is short-lived.

A short growl leaves the corner of his mouth. Yuta glares at you like he was stolen from and yet, you do not move your hand. Some part of you wants to aggravate him further.

“I’m not a pet,” he snaps. “Stop that.”

“You should stop me yourself,” you mimic his voice.

Yuta’s shoulders relax, and he looks down but you can still see the trembling smile on his face. It’s the way he looks at you, you think to yourself, maybe that's the reason after all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, feeling warmer than the autumn night should allow.

“Like what?” he asks, still smiling.

You look away.

“You’re not too fox-like, you know?” you mumble. “You’re just annoying. And flirty. And annoying.”

Yuta chuckles, before pressing his palm to the top of your head.

“And you’re lovely.”

You give in to the gesture of affection, leaning your head to press against his shoulder.

“Why do you even do all this? What do you get out of it?” you say, voice muffled. He hears you clearly, however.

“Because I love you,” he responds, as if coming to terms with it himself. “More than you think.”

There is no joke, no flirtation to his tone, no decoration upon his words. It’s plain, and laid bare. And sometimes, simplicity is scariest.

You pull back, lips pulled into a frown. The air is cold once more; the longing for warmth flowing into you. The silence is worse.

“You don't believe foxes can fall in love,” he states softly upon a wavering smile. “I knew that. Of course.”

A part of him believes it too.

“I…” you begin, and for the first time, you are afraid of promises in the name of love. You are the one making them now.

“I’ll believe you,” you whisper, “I’ll believe you so please… please take care of me.”

You place your palm against his cheek, his skin bewitchingly warm.

“Only if you take care of me,” he whispers back, leaning in.

This time, you do not move.

The lovers’ kiss you’d been searching for—lovers’ warmth, lovers’ comfort—all of it comes crashing down once Yuta tightens his arm around your waist, the other hand resting gently at the base of your neck. He kisses with the right amount of pressure, the vague taste of sweet berries in his mouth.

You used to fear his touch, like he would eat you whole; even if they have been gentle, always. This time, you might as well let him. He presses his lips from your cheek to jaw to neck, lingering at each spot enough to make you clutch at his shirt tighter, taking in short gasps of breath. You kiss for a little longer, like time means nothing.

“We should go back,” you whisper, pulling apart.

Yuta kisses you again, the distance unacceptable.

“Yuta—”

He kisses you once more, your calls falling on deaf ears.

Finally, after another long kiss, he pulls apart enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“It must have been hard for you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you scoff.

“Foxes are faithful lovers, you know?” he insists.

You laugh. “What do you mean?”

“It means I’ll follow you everywhere.”

He stands up straight, his thumb stroking your cheek as he bites back a smile.

“I don’t think we should get back tonight,” he suggests all of a sudden. “We could book a hotel. That’s the place you use these days, right? I’m sure your grandmother will understand your absence—”

You groan, resting your forehead against his shoulder and he presents a delighted laugh in return. It is warm by his side; he is warm. You find it easy to forget the failures in love, the loneliness of a lover that isn’t meant to be yours. Folktales are just long tales, after all. You smile to yourself.

You should’ve known—it was the fox all along.

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