#i have the oddest resume

[ghostoffuturespast]

What a long dusty ass day; but got to put up a tipi, pickup a dead rattlesnake (and a bunny :( ), meet some cute farm animals, meet an alpaca named Satan, and hang out with cool coworkers. Not bad.

[misctf]

Don't know if you still want requests but I grew up playing good old american football so I naturally have bulked way up and become so big but now I'd like to play soccer. Can you help me get from football bulky to soccer lean?

You jogged back to the side-lines, high-fiving your teammate as they ran out to take your place. The whistle blows, and you watch as the game resumes. If you told your younger self you’d be trying to play soccer, he would’ve laughed. As your dad said, you were born to play American football. And years of training your body left you bulky and muscular. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re a beast. But since graduating college a few years ago, you found it hard to get back into football. Most of your colleagues were into soccer and your company’s team played weekly.

“You should play.” Jake from accounting said.

“Nah, not into that kinda stuff.” You initially replied. You weren’t some twinkle-toed foot fairy. You played football. A real sport.

But you eventually caved. You figured you needed some more cardio in your life and connecting with your colleagues a bit more couldn’t be that bad. You just didn’t figure how much you were going to love it. Or how bad you’d be at it. Your coworkers patted you on the back after you failed to complete a pass. They reassured you it was okay when you accidentally scored on your own goal. And you eventually figured you just didn’t have the body or stamina for the sport. But you weren’t a quitter.

You’d never heard of the Jock Exchange Program until an ad popped up on your screen one evening. You read closely, becoming absolutely fascinated. An app that gives athletes the chance to try out a new sport. An for app those who feel they dedicated themselves to the wrong sport. The process is simple. Match with someone and meet at one of their facilities. Easy enough. You set up your profile, snapping a picture that highlights your bulky, muscular form. And after swiping through a few possible swaps, you match. The guy’s name is Dylan. Just turned 19, blond, lean, and played soccer all his life. He’s a bit young, but he reassures you he’s okay aging up a bit if it means he gets a chance at playing American football.

And a few day later, you’re at the facility. It was the first time you met Dylan. He was certainly shorter and younger than you. A confident, cocky grin etched on his face. You agreed to a 1 month swap, just to see how it goes. You and Dylan sign the papers. And before you knew it, electrodes were hooked up to your head. And then everything went black.

When you awoke, the world around you felt a big larger. You raised your hand and gasped. It was smaller, hairless. The skin young and not weathered by the years. You grab a mirror and look closely at your handsome face, blond hair, and tanned skin. You can’t help but chuckle. It felt so odd. So foreign. Yet it was yours all the same. You eventually got ready and said goodbye to Dylan, who was clearly enjoying his new larger frame. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back at your old body. You were never much of a narcissist, but god you looked good. You blushed when you felt your new cock chub up a bit. Returning home, you had the chance to really appreciate your new form. The lean, hairless muscle a far cry from your bulkier form. The confident, cocky smirk reminded you of all those asshole jocks you used to play with. This kid probably got a lot of action, you figured.

The next few days were largely normal. You went to work, having to explain to everyone your situation. But afterwards, you had the chance to really shine on the soccer field. Your lean form moving expertly, performing moves you didn’t even know were possible. Jake comes up to you afterwards, slapping you on the back and commending your new skills. And again, the oddest feeling passes through you. When did Jake get so attractive? I mean, he was a good looking guy. Just out of college- really gorgeous smile. And his stubble was a sexy addition to his chiseled face. You even notice the sweat dripping down his shirt. And his manly musk causes your dick to stir. You never had thoughts like that before, yet all you could do was stare dreamily at him.

“Hey, you good?”

“Uh yeah, bro.” You say, “I...” You pause and give him a confident smirk, “Just wondering what you’re doing after this, man.” You say. Images of him fucking you cross your mind and you’re lost in a horny daze, “Wanna head back to my place?”   

He gives you an odd look and asks if you’re okay. Using a name that you don’t think quite sounds right.

“Uh, name’s Dylan.” You say. He raises an eyebrow and in that moment, you snap back to reality, “Oh shit, uh sorry Jake. I need to go!”  You quickly part ways, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened. Just a blip, you figure, nothing to worry about.

But as the days continue to pass, you’re starting to recognize these issues aren’t improving. Your performance at work declines. Tasks you knew how to do with ease are taking much longer and are done incorrectly. At the same time, you’re constantly horny. The hormones raging in this younger body- consuming your every focus. And one night, while you’re browsing porn sites, you realize straight porn isn’t doing it for you. Without much thought, you navigate to a gay porn site you know you’d never heard of, and find a video. And for the first time, you jerk off to gay porn, moaning the entire time. Completely lost in the bliss.

The next day, you don’t even go into work. In fact, you don’t really recall what you do for work. Weren’t you in college? And who’s apartment was this? But a voice is telling you this isn’t right. You can barely recall aspects of your old life. And you realize in terror that these thoughts aren’t your own. You quickly call the help desk for the Jock Exchange Program and tell them what’s been going on.

“That was part of the risks, sir.” They say, “Sometimes, remnants of the old person’s mind remain. And in some cases, will overwrite the host.” They clear their voice, "Not to alarm you, but once an overwrite occurs, it may be impossible to rectify."

“Overwrite? Impossible?” You ask, the panic in your voice evident, “How do I stop this?”

“We can initiate an emergent transfer back to your old body. Can you tell us your name?”

“Dylan Conners.” You say, shaking your head, “No, it’s Dylan Conners.” Your eyes widen and you realize you can’t even remember your old name. In a panic, you hang up the phone.

You need to stop this. You need to... do what? Stop what? You shake your head. And, as you look around the apartment, you feel uncomfortable. This isn’t your place. You don’t even know how you got here. Despite a voice telling you this is your apartment, you flee. You run down the sidewalk and try to make sense of what’s going on. You quickly head to a spot you know all too well: the soccer field. And when you arrive, you take a deep breath. A feeling of comfort washing over you. There’s an abandoned soccer ball and you quickly start to practice. Each move wiping away your worry. Each successful shot on goal removing any doubt that you’re anyone but Dylan Conners. And by the time you’re done, covered in sweat, only Dylan Conners remains. You look down at a text on your phone.

“Hey man, wanted to know if you wanted to prolong this exchange. Got a spot on the team for the rest of the season. And btw, I’m loving this body.”

You chuckle, “Who the fuck is that?” You wonder. You quickly text back, “Sure man, I don’t give a shit.” And close your phone.

[zosin-ya]

omg i love your work so much! if your free can you do a fluff scenario of kid where his s/o gives him a ton of cute magnets for his arm and he shows them off like tattoos? 🥰🥰🥰

Character: Eustass Kid Content: s/o giving him magnets for his robotic arm a.n.: I really love this idea and I do love Kid. Hope you enjoy!

Kid was engrossed in his workshop as usual, tinkering away at the scattered items on his cluttered table. Screws, metal scraps, and tools lay in disarray, which he periodically shoved from left to right to create a bit of workspace. Despite the apparent chaos, he had his own unique organizational system, that made sense, only to him. Occasionally, you could hear him mutter curses under his breath, as you watched him from the doorway quietly.

His massive form sat at a well-worn workbench, which had clearly seen better days. The wood bore scratches, burn marks, and a missing corner—hastily patched with a piece of metal Kid had slammed against it. After all, it was a workbench, meant to look used, or so he told himself.

The small light aimed at the bench exaggerated his already bulky form. His foot tapped to the rhythm of the music playing in the background as he continued to tinker. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice your approach.

With your hands in your pockets, secretly holding the little gifts you had gathered, you leaned over his shoulder to see what his calloused hands were creating. Despite their rough appearance, Kid was deft when handling delicate metal parts. You kept quiet, a small amused smile forming on your lips as you wondered how long it would take for him to notice your presence.

Your breath brushed his shoulder, causing him to pause momentarily before resuming his work. He acknowledged your presence with a grunt, "What ya need?"

For Kid, that was quite polite. Anyone else would likely have faced a flying screwdriver or a loud rebuke for interrupting him. But you, you could bother him anytime. Even if he reacted this way, you knew you were welcome.

"Nothing, just curious," you answered innocently—perhaps too innocently. Kid knew you well and sensed you were up to something. He cocked his head towards you, raising an eyebrow, but before he could make a snarky comment, you pulled your hand out of your pocket and let the magnet fall onto his robotic arm. It adhered instantly.

Kid frowned, examining the small, punk-themed magnet now adorning his prosthetic. Placing his tools on the bench, he turned his metal arm for a better look. It was a small magnet, just his style.

"Where’d you get that—Hey!" You interrupted him by placing another magnet on his arm. He didn’t know you’d been collecting these during your travels. Each time you saw a fitting one, you’d buy it, waiting until you had a good collection to surprise him.

With a low hum, Kid turned towards you, still seated on his stool. This was new. He had never considered decorating his arm, which he saw as a weapon rather than a canvas for aesthetics. Your captain spread his legs, leaning back against the workbench, eyes shifting from his robotic arm to you. "What's this all about, huh?"

You stood between his legs, shrugging nonchalantly with a small smile. "It's like having tattoos. You can change them, too. Thought it was a cool idea. Do you like it?"

Kid might be rough around the edges, but he wouldn’t decline a gift from you, even the oddest one. And this? It looked kinda cool. A confident grin spread across his face as he examined the magnets. Most fit his style, though some were cuter, making his grin falter. He groaned in annoyance.

"Y/N, come on. What is this? I can't be running around like this!" He ripped off a magnet featuring a kitten with big eyes and "Anarchy" written below. Clearly, you’d picked it to tease him. Kid was about to discard it, but you snatched it back and reattached it to his arm.

"It's a gift! It’s not that bad. A real man can wear anything, right?." You taunted with a grin, pinching his cheek gently. Kid pulled his face away, rubbing the spot. You always knew what to say to him to make Kid agree. Going after his manhood usually worked. "...you're lucky I like you, Y/N."

He sighed in defeat, giving you a kiss to thank you for the magnets. He liked most of the them, even if a few were embarrassing. But they were from you, and that made them special. You’d clearly put a lot of thought into this, buying so many and especially picking out specific ones which fit his style.

Later that day, Kid kept all the magnets on his robotic arm. His crew commented, mostly positively, but when they saw the "Anarchy Kitten," they burst out laughing, knowing you’d done it on purpose. To their dismay, Kid discovered he could use the magnets as projectiles, slamming them into their faces and easily retrieving them with his power. With a smug grin, he realized the magnets were more useful than he’d thought.

Kid not only kept every magnet you bought but wore them like a badge of honor. Kitten or not, he looked sick with them.

[Click here for more Kid content!]

[mostly-marvel-musings]

A must with Mr. Tony spoils-his-partner Stark: ✈️. Fluffy and/or smutty, it's all up to you. Happy holidays season, my dear!

Vacation

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+

.

Expensive champagne sat waiting for you at the table along with caviar and blinis as Tony impatiently tugged you away towards the bathroom of his private jet.

“Tony, what even—”

Your sentence was rudely interrupted when the man slanted his lips onto yours the second he bolted the door shut. An involuntary moan escaped you at the intensity of his kiss, the urgency he felt palpable as he bruised your lips mercilessly.

It all began with him sending a car for you at work, under the pretext of important matters; the car had pulled up right before his private jet on the runway. As you got out, Tony led you inside, his strides were purposefully quick.

His erection poked at your thigh as he pushed your legs open, rutting against your clothed core, making you whimper pathetically. He grinned against your mouth before trailing his kisses down your neck.

“Tony..”

“Mmhmm..I’m here.”

“What the hell is going on? Where are we going? You haven’t said a word since we got here, and now we’re having sex in your private jet.” You rambled on, out of breath as his fingers worked to undress you.

“Shh. Calm down, sweetheart. We’re going on a trip.” He murmured rather coolly, as if it was any other conversation you were having.

It took some effort to push him away but you did, eyes bewildered as you waited for him for explain more, catching your breath as you watched the man whine in irritation.

“Look, I wanted to surprise you. You’ve been working too hard and I wanna help my girl unwind while we enjoy a day out on the beach, sip on cocktails, all sandy hair and toes. Perhaps give you some of the best orgasms of your life? Starting now.”

His eyes twinkled with excitement as he caressed your face sweetly tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. Tony Stark was capable of surprising you at the oddest of times, not that you ever complained but the man quite literally had swept you off your feet.

“Tony…” you tried your best to form a sensible reply but failed.

“That’s my name, yes. But I’d rather you scream it while I eat you out.” He winked, pulling you close by your waist again, resuming his kisses down the column of your throat.

“What do you think baby? Would you now let your amazingly thoughtful boyfriend spoil you rotten?” You sensed his self-assured grin against your flushed skin.

This was super delayed, I know. Let’s pretend it’s still holiday season, shall we?

Surprise drabble?! I’m bored at work.

[solottrpgchronicles]

3a. Secret Passage - The Last Tea Shop

Shop name: The Vagrant Tea Leaf

Supplies: sea salt, ginkgo leaf, giant puffball

Days: 11

Visitor: a minstrel

It's been a few days since the last visitor, and the insistent drizzle still isn't letting up.

While I'm lost in my daydreaming, the door opens, startling me.

"W-welcome!" I greet my new visitor. They're carrying a lute, so I assume they must be a musician of some kind.

Tired, yet exuding self-confidence, the visitor nods at me and sits down at the table.

As I brew a cup of Gumboot Tea for the mysterious stranger, I fire off my first question: "You look like someone who might have traveled a lot. Have you ever seen something unusual, and if so, what was it?"

"It must indeed show that I've traveled, and in fact, I feel so very tired. You could certainly say I've laid eyes on a myriad of peculiar folks, visited strange places, and encountered wondrous things. The oddest of all was perhaps that book…" They sigh, getting lost in their thoughts for a moment before resuming; "I was roaming the hallways of a castle, one night after a show. Truth be told, I sought the castle's kitchens, for I always feel a hollow pit in my stomach around midnight.

The surroundings were shrouded in darkness, and my only companion was a flickering torch. I stumbled over an unseen obstacle, my face nearly meeting the cold stone floor; right then, I heard the clanking of heavy armour and turned to see it sliding aside, along with the wall behind it. I had found a secret passage.

At that point, I couldn't resist, so I ignored the protests of my hungry stomach and ventured inside. I had only heard of secret passages in fantastic tales before; can you imagine the excitement I felt?

The passage led me to a chamber lined with bookshelves. A singular, small tome rested upon a reading desk at its center, open. Its pages were covered in intricate symbols, similar to runes.

As soon as I touched its pages, I was taken by a powerful vision: I suddenly had knowledge of everything happening within the walls of castle and outside, in the nearby town; I glimpsed into the lives of its denizens, witnessing their actions and emotions…

I was aghast. That was devilry of the highest order, and while I was tempted to turn the tale of my adventure into a song, my instincts urged me to put miles between me and that cursed place. Initially, at least. Then, I decided I couldn't abandon such a book."

"Fascinating," I comment earnestly, while bringing over the tea. "So, what did you do? Did you hide it?"

I hover around with my serving tray under my arm as they take a few sips and then reply.

"Hmm, marvellous tea. Yes, I deemed it prudent to steal and then hide the tome. Perhaps I should have followed my instincts instead and let it be; I might have lived longer, in that case.

Yet, as fate wanted, I had to perform again the following night - this was a private encore for the Sovereign and select kin; the night ended earlier than usual.

I feigned sleepiness, and soon after I sneaked out of my room. I recalled the location of the secret passage; identifying which floor tile to move was child's play. It seemed like a big flaw in design, but it certainly worked in my favour.

I infiltrated once again, grabbed the tome, and hastened away. I fled the castle using a makeshift rope woven from tied-together sheets.

After many days of traveling, I reached a vast lake and threw the accursed book into its depths, hoping no one would ever find it; perhaps the water damage would put a stop to the tome's evil magic.

Alas, the Sovereign noticed the theft, and it required little imagination to pinpoint the culprit. Admittedly, my scheme could have been more artfully devised... and now I find myself here."

They stare in the distance, theatrically, their soul clearly warmed up by the tea.

With a smile, I observe them stare at every little detail within the shop before leaving.

"I don't suppose you know my last customer?" I ask, as they stare at the portrait of the gambler.

"I do not, but I recognize the expression of someone who had a hard life. Well, I'll be off then, and thank you for the tea!"

They happily close the door behind them, grab the lute and play a song, the echo still lingering as they disappear in the warm drizzle.

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

This is a playthrough of a solo TTRPG called The Last Tea Shop, by Spring Villager.

You can check it out on itch.io: https://springvillager.itch.io/last-tea-shop

[valyrianfreehold]

just a heads up i'll be back from my vacation in a few days and i'll be resuming the human beam dragon portraits :D silverwing is still on the docket. i have a rough idea of what i want for her and her story is so... idk what the what word is, unique or strange?

hatched from alysanne's cradle egg and used by alysanne frequently until she was too frail to and then left on dragonstone until claimed by a dragonseed that has very shared narrative or personality traits with her original rider. her rider is murdered and unlike many other dragons who would stay and fight through battle even after their rider's death she flies away only to return to check on her old mate before flying away and dying alone and in obscurity. like if anything she really keeps to mirroring alysanne and that's fascinating. ulf the white and silverwing is by far the oddest and most tonally dissonant dragon rider pairing in the entire series.

i have vermithor Thoughts but i'll save those for when his turn in the polls come

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || AU || Frankie Morales

Chapter 4: Monologue

word count: 3275

warnings: parts of smut, angst? teacher student relationship (age gap)

please let me know if i’ve missed any- this hasn’t been proof read

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

——

You and Laylah have a night of your own, Hannah and Rose were out with their boyfriends and you could discuss the day together.

“Timothee Chalamet was in your fucking class and no one told me?” She yells. She's so cute when she gets upset.

“Trust me I was above my soul when I saw him, I couldn’t believe my eyes. But what was even weirder, after class he asked to talk to me after the scene I did with Mattias, and he told me Mr. Morales brought me in.”

“What?”

“I don’t know it was the oddest thing, when Mr. Morales walked out of the class with Ms. Roylance it seemed like they’re tight, and TImothee slipped in that he was there because Mr. Morales said to come check me out. Like to see how good I was or whatever. I apparently have taken the department by its feet and he wouldn't stop talking about me.” You explain.

“Interesting.” She rubs her face. “What do you think that means coming from Mr Morales?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” You say.

“I mean he is really fucking hot, everyone looks at him, when we were in that auditorium every single person was wishing to be in his pants or be his pants.”

You look down and blush. Of course everyone wanted to be with him, he’s fucking perfect.

Laylah inhales in shock, “You like him don’t you?”

‘No no, trust I do not, he’s our professor at this school and that would be highly inappropriate.” You respond.

“Oh that’s bullshit, we’re all adults here, yeah he’s a lot older and people may think it's odd but to hell with it, I don’t think it’s weird, if people love each other they love each other.”

“Yeah but he’s a highly well known person and I’m just a senior at this acting school, it would look weird and so many people would talk, it make me look bad and he could lose his position and I’m probably so much younger than him I couldn’t be what he’s looking for, me even thinking about it makes me sound delusional.” You laugh. “I understand age is just a number, but I’ve barely dated.”

“Ok not slightly delusional, if he brought Timothee Chalamet in for you to check out your acting, he must have something on for you.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I’ll say, in class and everytime I see him, he stares at me like a hungry man. I don’t mind. I'd have him look at me anyday, he boosts my confidence.” You reply honestly.

“Fuck I’d do the same for real.” She laughs. “If anything happens between you 2, you have to tell me it’ll fill my lonely love life, and I promise you I would never tell a soul. I bet his dick is fucking huge.”

“Laylah!” You laugh nudging her away.

“I’m saying the facts.”

She was, god you wondered, what the hell that man could do to a woman in bed. He’s Jesus in the flesh. You shuddered, what could he do to you?

“RIght now I don’t want to try anything too extravagant but I’ll try to give it some push and shove, see where it takes me who knows.” You lay on the couch in the common area.

Layla takes a second to think “I’m proud of you, you know. Ever since we’ve been here, we’ve both been happier, but this is the happiest I’ve seen you since I’ve met you.” She praises. “It’s been good for the both of us, you getting that job, you meeting Timothee, you getting frisky with Mr. Morales.” She goes on.

“Ok no getting frisky, that’s funny but thank you Laylah, you mean the world to me, you are the reason why I’m here and alive and still standing, and I’m fucking proud of you, I can’t belive you got Head of Makeup, do you understand how huge that it?”

Laylah had applied and sent in her application a couple weeks ago and she just found out today that she made it.

“I love you more than life.” She hugs you and you both tear up. “Getting Head of Makeup has made my semester, this’ll be amazing to put on my resume, the people I can fucking meet for working on Broaday.” She goes on. “I get to be the person who throws blood at Lady Mac and Mac.”

“Oh shit that’s dope as fuck L! Audition stuff was posted recently with all the monologues, but I don’t know which one to pick.” You say, scrolling through the material.

“Oh bitch, you do the iconic Lady M monologue, if you can master that scream and you read enough on Shakespeare, you could master your audition in no time. You need to go batshit in that audition” She reassures you.

“Want to do that now?” You ask.

“Oh hell yeah, I can practice my makeup on you and you practice that monologue, we’ll be ready for our auditions in no time. I took a class on Shakespeare, so I can help with your pacing if you want, Lady M is pretty fucking hard.”

You think on it, “Laylah, what if Mr. Morales is there for the audition? What if I mess up in front of him? What if he just views me as an object like any regular man?” You worry.

“See that’s the thing, he’s a man, what do you have to worry about?”

“Messing up everything for what could’ve been.” You look down.

“Then he’d be an asshole for everything and you would never have to be around him unless it was for a professional school reason.” She says.

“Ok we practice and we don’t worry about any stupid men.” You smile.

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

You were in your set building class. Your time to shine in front of Mr. Morales.

Now that you think about it, you’ve never had a full conversion with him, today that was going to change.

You wore a low waist long skirt with a white lacy tank top, paired with gold jewelry that complimented your skin. Today was about your comfort, but for Frankies eye.

You wanted his stare, you wanted him to look at your tattoos and have him imagine his golden skin all over your body. Tracing the people dancing on your hips, the lyrics, the sun on your chest. You physically craved him, his soft big fingers caressing your chest and kissing him so hard you couldn’t breathe. This crush was overtaking you.

It felt so wrong, but you couldn’t handle how you felt about him. He made you feel alive.

Today, he had your class start the building process for Macbeth, going over the different rooms, the lighting of the stage, the sound of it all. You were intrigued, it took your mind off of the acting process. You were starting to drill into wood to start on a plac for the half castle and you needed help. You were shaking trying to use the drill and you kept splitting wood.

Everyone could hear you grunting over the light music you were playing and you were outwardly pissed off.

You could get this done on your own, but damn was it fucking harder than you thought.

“Here let me help you.”

It was Mr. Morales, he’s been watching you this whole time.

“You get frustrated easily, I get it. Wood can be annoying, watch how I angle the drill.”

And by the tone of his voice, it was soft and not rough like a mansplainer, it was tranquil and could lull you to sleep. How he angles the drill huh?

He crouched down to your level and placed his hands on top of yours to apply pressure onto the wood. His hands were so big, then covered yours and them some.

Holy shit.

The vibration of the wood, his hands on top of yours and his cologne wafting into your nose almost made you faint. You were melting into him, and he knew it. You could immediately look into his eyes and move your face to kiss him, but people were there, watching you.

“There, see just the right amount of pressure and the screw will go in without splitting the wood.” He says.

“Thank you, if you didn’t do that I probably would’ve waisted 100$ more for wood.” You say to him as he stands up.

He holds his hand out for you, you take it and feel a pulse in your heart.

“Walk with me to get more wood.” He says that as a statement, not a question.

You follow him, quiet with butterflies.

“How was it at UNCSA?” He asks.

“It was fine, quiet mostly. I had grown up in Raleigh, so it made sense to go there. Pretty cheap for a decent art school in the country.” You give no more, no less.

“How were the professors?”

“Not too bad, the classes were easy, but I sometimes felt like I wasn’t challenged enough, that’s why I decided to spend my last year here. I figured if I got in I could push myself further than anywhere in North Carolina.” You explain.

You followed him into the wood shop, him handing you different pieces to carry, and waiting a second to finish your conversation. He was faced toward you now, setting down all his stuff leaning toward you.

“I worked on some projects in Raleigh, it’s pretty for what it's worth, better than Charlotte, its up and coming for film I’ve heard.”

“It’s a pretty lonely area though, the only thing you can do is drive to the beach or the mountains, walk around the 5 shops downtown or rot away at the lakes. Growing up there was simple, but boring. It’s better in the summer”

“I understand I grew up here, but I went back and forth from Spain sometimes.” He adds. “I kinda wished for a quieter childhood, but you want what you can’t have I guess.”

His pupils were so wide and dark, his Disneyland eyes were engulfing you. You couldn’t describe this feeling. Being alone with him and talking to him made you feel good.

“Wanting what you can’t have can make you go lengths you never imagined I think. It can change the chemistry in your brain, it can change relationships with the people you love, and it can make people think of you differently.” You say.

He looks at you and he takes a step toward you.

You breathe in. Is he going to kiss you? Was this conversation you were having to confirm both of your suspicions?

“Mr Morales? Do you know where the batteries are for the drills? They all are dying?” A kid in your class walks in and asks.

The moment was immediately killed, he stepped back, but your feeling was confirmed. You were about to kiss, but it gave you more time to think before you advanced anymore.

This made you feel like you were a freshman in highschool, waiting to see if the football player liked you back.

“Yeah Justin they’re in that back compartment I’ll follow you back in a second.” He calls back.

He turns toward you, “I suppose you’re auditioning for Lady Mac? You could stay back after class and I could critique what you have so far.”

He runs his hands through his hair and he’s making it sound like a statement then a question, there’s no working with this man. But there's no need, that’s more alone time with him. He’s raking you up and down and you could fucking pounce on him, crash your lips on his. But that would have to wait until you're secretly alone.

“I would like that, thank you Sir.”

---------------- +Frankie POV+

Sir, you fucking said sir. That made his ears tingle.

That made him not able to focus for the rest of class. He couldn’t build anything, Frankie had to tell all of his students the last 10 minutes they could do anything they pleased. He needed a moment to himself.

He was in the bathroom fucking his hand. Imagining you in there with him. Pulling down that flowy skirt of yours and getting on his knees to eat you out until you pulled his hair out. Did you wear that for him today? Did you put glitter all over your body just to attract his eyes? Did you want him to stare at how perfect you were? How the ink on your skin made you look like a goddess. He couldn't stand not being able to touch you.

The past couple weeks have been the worst for him. Ever since you showed up, he’s tried so hard to stay away from you, but every time he’s failed. He knew when you were in the same room with him. He knew your voice, her knew your fucking smell. Helping you with the drilling confirmed you smelled like sweet peonies. Your hands were so soft with his. He had to leave immediately for the bathroom after touching you. You have utterly ruined him.

But he has to realize who you are, and who he is. He can’t have you no matter how hard he defies himself. In the end he knows he will come back to his senses and leave you alone, but will that actually happen?

And the more he thinks about you, how soft your body would be against his, hot liquid is seeping out of his cock. He goes faster thinking about you on top of him, your hands on his chest, riding him until your eyes shut with ecstasy.

He thought of your tits in his hands, and he could pinch them and suck on the spot that would make you moan for his cock.

“Yeah that's right pretty girl, be loud for me. Tell me how I make you feel.”

Even if it was all in his head, he was cumming again a second time and he saw white flashes in his head. This has been the 5th day of having to release himself at the thought of you. In his home, in the university's staff bathroom. He thought about fucking you everywhere in this city, private or not, he wanted this city to hear the sweet moans that you could make, praise you in front of everyone. He would torture just to be with you.

He looks down at his watch and class is over.

Shit, he said after class you and him could go back onto the stage and he would critique your monologue.

He walks in, “Sorry I left, I had to go get some coffee, tonight will be a long night.” It’ll just be a long night for him thinking about you in his lonely house.

“I’d kill for an espresso right now, this is the time during the day I start to feel drowsy.” You laugh.

His mind won't stop racing thinking of how perfect you look, how easily he could take you backstage and kiss you. Play hooky for a week and run away together. You have to feel something for him, he thought.

In the woodshop you both were so close to touching lips before you were interrupted that can’t be a coincidence.

Ah, she's an actual coffee drinker. He took note.

“Ok I guess, just perform your monologue and I’ll sit here. Would you like me to critique you as you go?” He asks.

“That’s good, that’ll help me know what I’m doing wrong and I can immediately fix it for now.” She replies.

He sees your hands shaking, “You're nervous. There's nothing to be nervous about, it’s just me.” He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you being nervous made him nervous. He would feel whatever you felt.

“Yes it’s just you, and only you.” You glare at him.

You were going to be the death of him. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.

“Yet here’s a spot. Out damned spot: out I say.” You scream. You’re shaking your hands, pretending that there is King Duncan's blood on your hands.

You immediately snap into character, that’s what is true dedication. This is a practice run in front of him and you’re still doing it as a professional.

“One: two. Why then ‘tis time do’t. Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier and afeared? What we need to fear? Who knows it when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have though the old man to have had so much blood in him?”

You’re making yourself shake and shrivel as Lady Macbeth would do, you looked helpless and the life taken from your eyes.

You know how to capture the audience's eye, you know how to subside your nerves, you already know your character like she has been with you before. He was in awe watching you act on that stage.

“Here’s the smell of blood still. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.” After that delivery of line, you drop to the floor holding your chest and scream as loud as your body could handle.

Why were you holding back in front of him?

“To bed, to bed: there’s knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done, cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.” Your mascara was ruined and your hands were pruny from sweating. You kept rubbing your hands with her last paragraph, trying to put emphasis on Lady Mac almost killing herself. Frankie watching you made you cry more, your body's response to being so scared.

“You didn’t give me any critiquing.” You say after finishing.

“You were holding back.” He says.

“How do you know?” You ask.

“I’ve seen you act, you wouldn't pull this.” He shot back.

“Well probably because I’m fucking nervous, Frankie. why would you care?” You glare at him, as his facial expression stays the same. You used his first name because this doesn’t feel related to him helping you with your monologue at all. This feels like you both are holding back.

Good, you were honest about him making you feel nervous.

“I care because you shouldn’t have to feel like you need to hold back in front of me.” He walks up close to you, your noses are about to touch. He was towering over you. You were hunching down trying to take in his face. “I care because I want you to be real with me, even when you’re on stage giving a performance. I want you to show me what you can actually do, not what you can do for everyone else.”

“But you’re the one who's my teacher.” You look up to him, it's breaking your heart. You can’t tell if he’s mad or being sincere. The look on his face made you want to wrap your hands around his face and bring his forehead to yours, becoming one. You both knew this was wrong, that's the obvious, but now was the chance to kiss.

“I know, but that’s why-” You don’t let him finish, and you pull out from his look. Walking off the stage and trying to let go of the almost kiss that never happened. If he was going to say no to you, you wouldn’t have been there to hear it.

---

He was going to ask you to go get a coffee. Talk about what you two were to each other. But now he’ll sulk in his apartment and call up the boys.

——

previous chapter || next chapter

au- i feel like this was rushed because i want to expand on frankie’s character more and his life and his relationships with the boys and how he views the reader and UGGHH so much to write and so much to plan! but it’ll all be planned and written with my crumpled thoughts into one :)

let me know what you think!

[siconetribal]

A Royally Unexpected Turnabout 3

Summary: With Tamaki back in school, Kyoya hopes for some semblance of normal insanity. However, the presence of a new queen with her own shadow throws that away. With a personality that rivals the energy of their excitable king and a guard that catches the eye of Honey and Mori, the duo sends the Host Club running once more.

A/N: Please like/comment/reblog and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know!

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

    The Hitachiin twins were pulled to an abrupt halt by their captive whose attention returned to Zaina and Rin. Much to their annoyance, Haruhi managed to free herself and walked back towards the remaining four. “I wanted to ask you too, what class group were you assigned to?” The brothers looked to one another, clearly uninterested in finding out.

    “According to the papers we were given,” Rin quickly skimmed the sheet handed to her by Zaina, “We have been assigned to 1-A” She glanced back at the remaining hosts.

    “So you’re in our class,” the twins bluntly commented with hope they would be able to resume what they desired. If anything, they were growing more irritable by Haruhi’s attention being taken from them. “We need to get going to class, we’re going to be late.” They continued to talk and move in perfect synchronization, this skill catching the attention of the new girls.

    “You two are really amazing!” Rin praised the two, her hands clapped together with eyes brimming with hidden excitement. “To be able to say and do anything with such perfect unison, it’s hard not to praise. It’s also a testament to the bond you share, it’s lovely. I hope we get along,” she smiled at the two before turning to Haruhi. ”You as well. I’ve heard so much about you from Zaina and have always wanted to meet you. I never thought it would be possible, but now we’ll be classmates as well! The world certainly works in the oddest ways,” She grabbed both of Haruhi’s hands, giving a gentle squeeze as a way to convey her earnest excitement. I wonder why she’s dressed in the boy’s uniform though. The teacher didn’t seem to really care about it, but made a fuss about Zaina. There’s the possibility she may prefer being referred to as “he”, but Zaina always said “she”. There’s no doubt Zaina would respect her friend’s wishes. Maybe it’s a Host Club thing?

    Haruhi blushed at Rin’s excitement of finally meeting her. She was not anyone worth noting being a commoner, but here was a young lady of a well known family treating her like she was some celebrity. “Ah, Zaina’s told me about you as well actually. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, too,” she commented and warmly smiled back as she returned the gentle squeeze. Finally, some girls I can hangout with! As much as she adored the host club members, regardless of how much they tried her patience at times, she had a little yearning to have simple girl time without Host Club restraints. Although her female classmates were amusing to spend time with in Music Room 3, there were times she simply desired to be Haruhi. Zaina’s work kept her busy and then I started to attend here. Time together has essentially become nonexistent.

    This little display did not sit well with the twins. Here were two strangers just parading around as if they knew everything and owned everything. It was acceptable from Rin to some extent, though her straightforward and praise of all of them was surprising. It was Zaina’s comfort and acting as if she was equal to them which rubbed them the wrong way. She was the help and they were above her. Hikaru scowled at this budding friendship. Kaoru noticed how irritated his brother was by this, but he was also not fond of being pushed aside and ignored as well. Chibana or not, they were not simply going to bow to her and let her do as she pleased. 

    “Oi, let our Haruhi go,” Kaoru spoke up as Hikaru reached out to pull the two apart. Takashi noticed and was ready to catch Rin in case she were to lose balance, but Zaina intercepted before anything could happen. She had seen him reach out and she quickly reacted, grabbing Hikaru’s wrist to pull his arm behind him.

    “Please refrain from touching Ms. Chibana in such a rude or careless manner. Regardless of your personal opinion towards her, I expect you to conduct yourself in a proper gentlemanly manner. That pertains to you as well.” She glared at the twins. “Secondly, Haruhi is not yours.”

    “What do you know? She doesn’t mind it at all. You should just mind your own business,” Hikaru snapped as he struggled to free himself from the surprisingly strong grip. He turned to glare at her, only to be shocked by how unfazed she was by him. 

    “Let him go,” Kaoru glared and reached out to help free his brother but stopped when Hikaru was suddenly pushed towards him instead.

    “If you keep to proper etiquette, then there won’t be any issues,” She coolly replied as Hikaru turned and came up into her face.

    “You should really keep her in check.” Kaoru turned to Rin who seemed to do nothing about this behavior.

    “Oh, why is that?” Rin found it curious that he would direct such a comment to her. “She’s doing her job. If you had personal bodyguards right now and I suddenly reached out to you after demanding something as you did, would they simply let me grab you?” It was clear Kaoru knew the answer to this question. “She is my personal aid, and that includes being my personal bodyguard as well.” Kaoru wanted to argue, but she made her point. Zaina did not use excessive force either, she simply stopped him from touching Rin.

    “Hey, why don’t we just settle this over cake?” Mitsukuni suddenly chimed in, hoping to diffuse the tension between everyone. “Sweets always make things better!” Sadly, no one seemed to be paying the cute blond any mind.

    “Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re nobody, a tag-along riding on coattails!” He sneered, hoping to get under her skin but her lack of reaction led to her getting to him even more. Look at her, acting so familiar! She doesn’t know us or anyone! The fact that he was so easily grabbed and unable to free himself was embarrassing enough as is, but to be treated as such by an absolute stranger was borderline humiliating. “What, do you have some hero kick or something?”

    “That’s enough, Hikaru!” Haruhi finally managed to find her way in front of Zaina as if to shield her. “She’s my friend.”

    “Your friend,” Kaoru raised an eyebrow at this. “That’s convenient, you’ve never spoken about her before,” He scoffed, equally irritated as his twin.

    “Why would I suddenly start talking about her to you all? You’d end up trying to find her and cause her trouble when she’s busy working!” She sighed and shook her head. The two opened their mouths to deny this, but they knew it was true. “Regardless, she is my friend and I would like it if you both stopped treating her like that.” When the two begrudgingly acquiesced to leave Zaina be, she then turned to her friend and gave an apologetic smile. “Please forgive them, they’re a bit rough on the outside but they’re also really kind.” She scratched the back of her head.

    “Yeah, I know, you’ve told me before.” She gave a small smile to Haruhi to assure her no offense was taken. “However, I cannot allow anything to happen to Ms. Chibana. My task is to keep her safe and if that means having to physically restrain another person, then so be it.” This resolve resonated with the silent Takashi who glanced up at his cousin that he held on his shoulders. Though the two of them were essentially forgotten, he sighed with relief that the tension was mostly gone. However, he was curious about this new friend of Haruhi’s.

    “I will say this,” Rin stepped forward now that everything had settled and she could fully process what was going on. “I didn’t intend to cause trouble. Zaina is very diligent in her duties and reacted as necessary for my safety. Please do not think ill of her. I will be sure to speak to her about how to respond to fellow students who are not intentionally out to cause harm.”

    “No, it wasn’t her fault! Trouble is their middle name.” Haruhi quickly shook her head.

    “They don’t seem like trouble to me. They’re clearly very fond of you and simply wanted your attention back. I’ve also never seen someone get so close to Zaina before, they really are entertaining in their own respect. I wasn’t sure what to expect from that!” She softly giggled, the twins’ ears perking up at the compliment.

    "At least someone truly sees us!" Hikaru scoffed as the two crossed over to Rin, plucking her from beside Zaina and sandwiching her between them much like they would Haruhi. When her cheeks reddened like most girls, the interest in her began to plummet when she placed a hand over Hikaru's and looked to Kaoru.

    "Well now, this is quite bold indeed, but are you sure the two of you can handle me?" She asked and the two were taken aback. This was not a reaction they had expected at all from her.

    "Great, now they got her going." Zaina sighed alongside Haruhi as Mitsukuni watched in wide-eyed shock.

    This is certainly new! I'll have to tell Tama and Kyo for sure! He looked down towards Takashi with a bright smile, Takashi greeting it with a small smile of his own.

    "So, you really weren't kidding about her then… I was hoping you were just exaggerating since she seemed so normal." Haruhi gently pat Zaina on the back.

    "No, this is her and it seems she's found not one but two people to encourage her. At least it’s better than them trying to push her away?" She stood up a little straighter as the twins separated from Rin but kept an arm on either shoulder. "C'mon, we better actually head to class."

    "That’s true! I'll show you Usa then, too! See you later!" Mitsukuni excitedly waved, Zaina blinking a bit to make sure she had hallucinated the flowers that seemed to burst from the petite young man.

    “Usa? I would love to meet him! Thank you for all your help.” Rin smiled and waved back from between the twins.

    "Sure, see you later." She waved back, Mitsukuni’s smile infectious. Takashi stared at Zaina’s smile in slight surprise. Feeling his gaze directed at her, she turned her attention to him and for the first time made eye contact with the tallest host. "See you later as well," she waved. He simply grunted a response as he turned and the two took their leave.

    "We should definitely get going now. Just follow us." Haruhi smiled as the twins let Rin go and walked side by side, leading the way to the classroom.

[reverend-dog]

Quills

Janice sprinted for the bus, and skipped up the step just before the doors shut. The driver paid her no attention; of course not, in their line of work they confronted the oddest forms of humanity every day. None of her fellow passengers appeared to stare or make any comment either. Janice chose an open seat and random and sat. Only a matter time, she thought.

“It’s none of my business,” a voice spoke over her shoulder, “but you’re not doing yourself any favors.”

There it is.

Janice turned in her seat. The man’s face described decades spent in the elements, liver spots like town markers. Snowy whiskers hid in the deeper wrinkles, too deep for a razor to reach. Cloud-colored eyes peered from behind horn-rimmed glasses, and his baseball cap claimed veteran status.

“Excuse me?” Janice asked from reflex.

“Your hair.” The man waved a hand that might once have boasted muscle, but now hung with slack skin. “I mean, I get you wanna make a statement, but I hope you didn’t pay too much for that do, and I sure wouldn’t go back to that barber. You’re a pretty girl and that’s a real nice outfit, but --” He waved his hand in the general direction of Janice’s scalp again. “Pardon me for saying it looks like you got a porcupine on your head!”

The criticism fell like hail. Nearby conversations died, and people stared as if the man’s words gave them permission to stop pretending. Janice huddled in her seat, shoulders hunched, and dipped her head. What had she expected? Her scalp tightened, and she felt a rustling.

Should have stayed home, she chided herself. Called in sick. ‘Sorry, can’t make it in today. My hair’s turned into quills.’

“Now, hey,” the man continued, “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. Just maybe you wanna give these things a bit more thought in the future, you know?”

The non-apology stung worse than the critique, moreso because of the injustice of his assumption. Janice hadn’t asked for this. She just wanted to live her life, certainly didn’t want to be the center of attention. Why or how she woke up like this defied explanation. I would have stayed home, except for that stupid, mandatory all-hands meeting!

And now here was Mr. All-American Senior Citizen White Male Privilege, with his assumption that everybody needed and were eager to receive his ineffable wisdom.

Janice’s throat worked, and words forced themselves out without her will. “Nobody asked you.”

The man reared back, indignation flowing through his wrinkles. “Well!” he exclaimed. “If you’re gonna be that way about it --”

Janice sprang from her seat. Her quills sprang out and forward around her face. She loomed over the man. “Yes,” she told him, “I am going to be that way about it! ‘It’s none of my business,’” she mimicked his earlier tone, “so why did you make it your business? How I choose to dress or style my – hair doesn’t affect you in the least, so the least you could do is ask if I want your opinion! Consent, get it?”

Silence reigned on the bus. Janice realized how many pairs of eyes were trained on her, and also saw a few phones pointed her direction. She wondered what sort of spectacle she presented, quills erect. Freak? Is that what people were thinking?

The old man regained himself, Boomer indignation coming to the fore. He stood up and stuck out an admonishing finger, ready to put Janice in her place.

Thap!

Something colorful, hard, and fast bounced off the old man’s head, sending his veteran’s cap flying. Eyes snapped toward the back of the bus, where a slight, stooped woman stood, throwing hand extended, bare foot balanced on her toes, the rest of her weight on her cane. She wagged a finger at the man.

“Callate!” she commanded. “Siddown! She no bother you, you essteeffyou!”

The bus erupted in laughter. The old man fumed as he bent to retrieve his hat, and resumed his seat, unable to respond to an undeniable senior. Another passenger fetched the abuelita’s chancla, while the old woman blessed Janice with a smile and a benedictive wave.

Janice felt her quills lay down along her skull as she resumed her own seat. A warm glow lived in her chest. I’m ready, she declared to herself. Bring it on, world!

[doctorkinktraveller]

DOCTOR: Come on, come on, old girl. Nearly there. Nearly at the breach, and then. There, that's it. Yes. Now, I can't pretend this next bit isn't going to hurt. I have to reconfigure your superstructure and I can't do it gently, so brace yourself.

(Engines stutter.)

DOCTOR: What? You pick your moments, old girl, but not now, please! Don't jam on me now.

RASSILON: My friend, the mechanism is not at fault.

DOCTOR: You! It is you. Really you. My Lord, I am truly humbled, but I beg of you, do not intervene.

RASSILON: Oh, Doctor, you should know better than to even suggest it. I have simply frozen us here. Perhaps in your Tardis, perhaps in your mind. Time marches on.

DOCTOR: It might not soon, if what you showed me in the Matrix, the past and the future sacrificed to one single present, it could happen now unless. Well, unless I am allowed to do what I mean to do.

RASSILON: Then this is surely the desperate hour. Tell me, Doctor. Tell me how all this has come to pass.

DOCTOR: My God, I don't have the time.

RASSILON: You do now. You can humour an old dead man, can you not?

DOCTOR: Oh, ah, well, if you're sure, I. Where did it all begin? One night, on Earth I suppose, high above the English Channel, I was aboard a magnificent airship, a vessel they called the R101. There was a boy, a steward, running towards me, running from someone or something, but it wasn't a boy at all. It was a girl. Charlotte. Charlotte Pollard. Friends called her Charley, she said. She told me I was the oddest man she had ever met.

SENTRIS: The breach! The breach! We are going through!

DOCTOR: I honestly believed that Grayle was behind the time disruption, that with his redemption I need worry no longer. I meant every word I said to Charley. I should have known better.

RASSILON: Indeed. And what else do you have to tell me?

DOCTOR: I think the rest of the story can speak for itself, my Lord. Let's just say not long after we left Singapore, Charley and I discovered our troubles were only just beginning. First with the Daleks, and now? Now it's come to this. I have to stop the Neverpeople from reaching Gallifrey, regardless of the consequences to myself.

RASSILON: And you mean those words too?

DOCTOR: Absolutely.

RASSILON: You have considered every alternative?

DOCTOR: I have.

RASSILON: Then I must let you continue.

DOCTOR: Thank you, my Lord. Before you go, might I just ask why you've er, well, dropped in on me like this?

RASSILON: Doctor, I told you. I wanted to know what led you here, to this decision. But if your mind is made up, I cannot intervene. That causes me sorrow.

DOCTOR: Sorrow?

RASSILON: I've watched you these many long years. I've seen you in all of your adventures, seen the many things you have done in the service of your beliefs. Some I can hardly be seen to approve of.

DOCTOR: Oh, well, you know, sometimes things don't work out quite the way you planned them.

RASSILON: Indeed. But for the most part, Doctor, you have made me proud. You have enriched the lives of more people in more worlds that I suspect you will ever know. You have made a difference, and I've come here simply to tell you that, before everything is ended. Before it is too late.

DOCTOR: My Lord, you honour me.

RASSILON: No, Doctor. You have honoured me. Farewell.

(The engines resume.)

DOCTOR: Eh? Is it just me, or did something very odd just? Doesn't matter now. Now, where was I? Oh, yes.

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Quentin and Montana hang out.

Montana had grown quite used to walking into rooms and finding Quentin stretching in the oddest of ways while doing other tasks. Reading a book? Quentin sits with one knee under his chin and the other stretched to the side. Working on blueprints in his room? Upside down and hanging off the bed. Montana found it a little funny that Peter would often emulate the man with a little more flexibility. 

So he is entirely unsurprised when walking into the living room to see Quentin doing a front half split while reading a book. Quentin looks up at him and Montana raises an eyebrow. 

“You busy?”

The cowboy asks and Quentin tilts his head.

“Not really. I mean. Just trying to finish a book.”

He holds up a copy of a book Montana vaguely remembers from high school.

“Catcher in the Rye? I remember hatin’ that book.”

“Oh, me too.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“Re-reading in truth. And it’s to be able to talk to Harry about it. He has to read it for school. It seems to appeal to him so I'm trying to be nice about it.”

“Ah, so that's why Peter’s been complaining this last week about English class.”

Montana says with a small hum. Quentin nods with a scrunched nose.

“Oh yeah. They have another two weeks of the book. But disregarding that whole tirade, why were you asking?”

“Uh.” 

In reality, Montana had not really been thinking of anything in particular. But now, presented with the idea that Quentin is free, his mind turns to figuring out something to do. The other two Enforcers are each busy with their own thing. Peter is out doing something, presumably homework, or more likely Spider-man things. Staying in could be fine, but Montana has an idea that slips out.

“Want to learn how to lasso?”

Montana just about takes it back. But then Quentin is jumping up and smiling so brightly that he cannot find himself willing to try to back out of it now. 

“Yes! Can we learn here? Do we need to go out?”

“Me and the Enforcers have a warehouse…”

And Quentin is gone, vanishing back to his room only to return a few minutes later fully dressed and ready to go. He links arms with Montana and starts pulling him towards the door. Montana laughs as he is dragged. 

“You don't even know where you’re going, Quentin.”

--

Montana has to admit that Quentin had taken to the lasso fairly quick. Dan had seriously struggled to have the rope swing correctly around his head. And Ox had simply refused to try to learn. What Quentin was having trouble with was the throwing.

“Hold up there partner. I think I can see your problem.”

Quentin stills as Montana takes the lasso from him and starts twirling it. He then speaks.

“It's not like throwing a ball. Or one of your smoke bombs. It is more like releasing at the peak of the circle. Similar motion. But more slide.”

He demonstrates while Quentin watches closely. 

“Ah. Okay. It did feel off.”

Montana collects the lasso and hands it over. Quentin begins the circling motion again and then releases the rope. It hooks over the fake steer's horns and the illusionist jumps up with a cheer.

“YES!”

Quentin glows as Montana gives a nod.

“Very good Quentin.”

He then stumbles back a little bit when Quentin suddenly hugs him violently. The illusionist then hops back and gathers up the rope.

“This is awesome. I'm adding it to my resume, I don't care if I only did it once.”

Quentin says giddily. 

“Oh, I'm sure you can do it more than once.”

Montana straightens his hat as he speaks. He watches as Quentin repeats the move multiple times, each time better than the last. Then Quentin turns to Montana with eyes that are a little too intense and analyzing. 

“I've seen people walk through their lassos. Can you do that?”

Montana feels a bit like a show pony trotting out in front of judges as he takes the lasso back.

“I can do some trick roping. I'll show you the flat loop and wedding ring. Though the butterfly looks a might more impressive.”

He measures out an arm's length of spoke in the rope and starts spinning the loop. He rotates it in front of himself and lets it spin for a moment before hopping in and winding the rope upwards and then dropping it and hopping back out. He swirls it in front of himself in the butterfly pattern. He then lets the spoke shorten a little and starts jumping through the loop as it slides side to side over his body.

He then loops it back up and then holds out the rope to Quentin, explaining how to hop into the flat loop. It takes Quentin a few times but the illusionist soon gets it and looks extremely pleased with himself as the lasso rises up above his head, circling around his body. Quentin then lowers it and hops out, able to keep the spin going.

“Oh, that is fun!”

“Sure is.”

Montana checks his watch and is quite surprised to see how late it is.

“Say, it's gettin’ late, wanna grab some grub on the way home.”

“Oh my gosh, you are such a cowboy.”

Quentin gives a delighted laugh as he circles up the rope and hands it back to Montana. Montana huffs with a tilted smile.

“That don’t answer my question, Quentin. You want food or do you want me to abandon you and find food on my own.”

He teases as he starts walking towards the door.

“No! I want food. I want food! Please dont leave me.”

Quentin rushes after him and grabs his elbow. 

“Alright. What do you want to eat?”

Montana lets Quentin take point, allowing the illusionist to start pulling him.

“Ooh, I know a great place a few blocks from here! I think you would like the food. It's Italian.”

“Lead the way, Quentin.”

[contentment-of-cats]

Dear Brain. WTAF are you doing?

All through my diagnosis last February until very recently, I can't remember any dreams I might have had. It's possible I didn't have any, but I don't think it's likely. Lately, it's as if the dream factory has resumed production, and it's of a product that wakes me up and keeps me up for a few hours after. They're not nightmares, though some of them edge that, but just so strange that I have to wake up to parse and digest them.

There's a lot below the cut. Total brain dump.

The oddest ones are of a pastiche of places I've been and lived. Familiar enough, but also strangely assembled. An apartment with more rooms than make sense, or a city familiar enough but one where I get lost when things are not where they ought to be. There are people in these dreams that I know in the dreams, they're familiar, but when I wake up I lose who they are. My dreams have always been vivid, but these are unsettling.

During my last depressive episode, there was a point where I questioned my own reality. I lacked belief in my own existence. It was a throwback to when I was a kid at home, and I'd pretend what was happening was happening to someone else to the point where I would have the illusion of leaving my body. I remember an incident where my mother wasn't satisfied with how I was washing my face - I was in early adolescence and has having a spate of acne - and she put me in a chokehold to use an abrasive scrubbing pad on my face. I have no memory of anything after that. I assume that I overwrote my own memory. It took me decades to remember that - and my mother admitted to doing it after claiming that I made it up, then saying that it wasn't really like that.. Maybe there's enough unprocessed trauma in there that I'm in for an interesting few months. I talked about this yesterday with my medical trauma therapist, and she has asked me if I still doubt the reality of my own existence, if that's how I got through treatment and surgery, and I had to say that I didn't know.

I strove to live in the moment, to let the things happening to me pass around me like water around a rock. I don't think or believe that I was strong, or a warrior, or tough. I think that I survived somehow when others didn't or couldn't. My docs say I came out better because I was heavy going in and I had that cushion - essentially carrying extra weight (fat) saved me. I had people around me who helped, supported, and sent me loving energy - and it was a revelation that so many cared. I finally was able to know my own reality.

I don't know what's next. I am in remission - or have what I prefer to call Schrodinger's cancer. I know that if the cancer comes back, the chances that I will get another remission decrease. I have to be at peace with that to live. And if I am going to live, I am going to treasure every moment I have. Even in my dreams, maybe I need to say that life is too short.

Thank you for reading this brain barf, brought to you by nonsequential sleeping patterns, gabapentin, and ever-decreasing doses (YES!) of oxycodone. I made focaccia, have cold brew, and am spending the day reading, napping with cats, and writing.

[drades-lair]

Malfunction

Fandom: HelluvaBoss

Pairings: Chaz/OC

Rating: T for swearing and mentions of sexual activity.

The first time it happened Xain nearly had a coronary, he’d been in a heavy make out session with Chaz, the shark demon was laying on top of him when Xain decided to flip them. In one fluid motion Xain had flipped Chaz onto his back that’s when he got the oddest relaxed look on his face and completely stopped moving or talking. Xain wasn’t concerned at first however panic swiftly set in as he’d tried everything to get Chaz to respond to no avail when he simply snapped out of it, completely unaware what had happened as he attempted to resume the make out session. After some panicked yelling from Xain though Chaz realized what had occurred eliciting an embarrassed blush from him, gaze averting from Xain. Chaz began to explain how shark demons can ‘malfunction’ if rolled onto their backs too quickly or if the ends of their noses are rubbed. Xain had to admit he didn’t fully believe what Chaz was telling him, arching a brow in confused disbelief until he looked it up, it was true if you do one of those two things it can essentially hypnotize shark demons for around 30 minutes. Xain spoke to Chaz about this several more times mainly out of concern that it was painful or hurtful to him luckily according to his shark boyfriend it wasn’t, he described the feeling as being like you’re asleep except far more relaxed going as far as to say it was nirvana.

Satisfied that he wasn’t causing damage to Chaz, Xain felt comfortable enough to let the incident go especially seeing as it only happened a couple more times after that during their ‘rough housing’ in bed however little did Xain realize the knowledge would help. Chaz’s demeanour was different around Xain in comparison to other people, yet Xain knew when Chaz’s behavior would change, they were simply laying together in yet another mediocre motel room when Chaz dosed off curled up to the demon hybrid. Xain relaxed with one arm tucked behind his head while the other scrolled on his phone, a large leathery wing tucked around Chaz as he slumbered until he started to whimper in his sleep, face scrunching up in discomfort. Xain turned to acknowledge what was happening only to have Chaz unconsciously reach out to him, hands clutching onto Xain while his breathing came in short shallow bursts, sweat beginning to bead on his skin.

“Chaz?” Xain gently spoke not wanting to startle his distressed boyfriend.

“Hmm…n-no…S-stop…please…I won’t do it again…” Chaz mumbled in his sleep, tail curling up between his legs as he squirmed.

“Hey, Chaz…babe…wake up,” Xain continued now gently shaking Chaz’s shoulder in a bid to rouse him.

Chaz shot up moments later with a gasping cry immediately scooting away from Xain, his breathing ragged and uneven before huddling up against the headboard. Tears were pricking the corners of Chaz’s eyes as he pulled his knees to his chest, desperately trying to get his breathing under control, heart racing behind his rib cage when a gentle hand cupped his cheek immediately drawing his attention towards Xain. Chaz instantly clung to Xain catching the demon hybrid off guard for a moment before pulling the shark into his lap, gently rubbing his back trying to sooth him to little avail at which point Xain remembered the unique trait that Shark demons have. Carefully Xain pulled Chaz back just a little to touch his nose earning him a furrow of confusion to go along with Chaz’s already distressed look when Xain began rubbing the end of Chaz’s nose with two fingers. A moment later Chaz’s face melted into that overly relaxed expression he’d gotten on previous occasions, his breathing evened out as he drooped into Xain’s arms.

Half an hour later Chaz came back around in Xain’s arms, head swimming slightly from being ‘hypnotized’, but the panicked feeling was gone now. Looking up Chaz realized Xain had cocooned them in his wings and he could feel Xain’s fingers lightly caressing over various parts of his body, a blush slowly crept across his features as he realized what just happened, yet he remained curled up in Xain’s lap from the need for comfort.

“Are you alright?” Xain finally asked after a long few moments of silence.

“Mm-hmm,” Chaz confirmed with a little head nod making sure to keep his gaze away from Xain’s.

“Okay,” Xain acknowledged, nuzzling gently against Chaz’s temple. Xain didn’t ask anything further all he cared about was that Chaz was alright anything else could be delt with later.  

“Xain…?” Chaz whispered after another few moments.

“Hmm?” Xain hummed in acknowledgement.  

“Don’t leave me,” Chaz quietly pleaded, curling tighter into Xain’s torso.

“It’s alright, I’m not going anywhere,” Xain assured Chaz, carding his fingers through the shark’s hair then pressing a loving kiss to his temple.

After that night Xain learned that Chaz had sever panic attacks along with nightmares from time to time luckily all Xain had to do during one of these episodes was get them somewhere private and put him into that ‘hypnotized’ state. Chaz would always be way calmer once he’d come out of it not to mention having Xain there to comfort him both before and afterwards.

[quirksandoddities]

Of Eerie Places and Kindhearted Strangers

It has been a long time since I've volunteered. Not counting my previous job where I had to work with underprivileged youth, I think my 2018 construction stint in Nepal was the most recent. More than 6 years ago if you think about it. Since I moved to a new city and sort of rebooted my life from scratch, (sort of being the operative word here), I've been immersing myself in activities that I've either always wanted to do, or have done before but for some reason, stopped.

I finally found a weekend volunteer activity that fit my schedule! It happens every Saturday at about 8am and takes half a day, and in a cemetery, a place I've always found fascinating but weirded other people out.

Say hello to ATD 4th World's Ang Galing Literacy Program!

Here, we tutor children who live in the Manila North Cemetery and guide them as they read and write. The lessons are mostly in Tagalog as the kids are in elementary. Our tutorial area is a family mausoleum, with coffins and a pet cemetery within the enclosure.

I did not know that there was a community within the cemetery. Families, proper water source, and transportation inside. Like a mini subdivision of sorts. But most live in poverty as they are often families of those hired by the mausoleum / lot owners as caretakers.

It has been an interesting few months, having met new faces in the oddest of places, and getting to help out and develop a camaraderie with the children I've taught. When I got to attend their Graduation and Moving Up Ceremony, I was so proud of the kids! I look forward to next school year when we resume tutorial classes and I get to contribute to my community again.

Sorry for the short post, I just decided to write this down lest I forget again. Haha. `Til the next writing muse visit! :)

[shvdwscng]

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  she  could  do  for  herself  and  her  son  was  to  ensure  she  was  always  at  her  strength,  that  meant  attempting  to  sleep  at  decent  hours  even  when  it  was  entirely  impossible.  she  imagine  most,  if  not  all  were  in  a  similar  state,  unable  to  rest,  nor  sleep  out  of  fear  of  anything  else  outwardly  occurring.  she  did  however  manage  to  fall  asleep  at  the  oddest  hour  of  the  day,  which  she  took  advantage  of  when  she  could.

  sitara  had  been  in  an  rather  lengthy  chat  with  some  of  her  own  citizens,  and  after  it  had  ended,  she  decides  to  remain  in  the  sitting  room,  the  book  she  had  brought  along,  she  resumed  until  she  felt  the  presence  of  another.  closing  her  book  once  more,  she  looked  to  find  the  spring  court's  commander  himself.  if  she  were  being  honest,  sitara  never  quiet  knew  what  to  expect  from  the  inner  circle  members.  some  were  rather  amiable  and  other's  well,  not  entirely.  ever  the  picture  of  a  gracious  mother  to  the  current  queen,  she  offered  the  male  a  friendly  smile  as  the  other  went  about  fetching  a  drink  for  himself.  "thank  you,  commander  preston,  i  will  have  the  wine."  she  did  not  drink  often,  certainly  not  when  she  wished  to  keep  her  wits  about  her,  but  it  would  be  rude  to  decline.  "it  would  not  be  rude,  however,  the  drinks  are  there  for  anyone  if  they  please.  how  are  you  doing  today?"  the  widow  imagines  about  the  same  as  rest,  but  it  was  expected  of  her  to  ask.

@shvdwscng

Preston was bored. No, he was beyond bored. Bored Preston was bad enough, but this, this was borderline abuse in his mind. He tossed and turned in the too-soft bed that filled the chamber he had been staying in since they had arrived for the coronation. The walls of the room felt like they were closing in, so a nighttime stroll to find a stiff drink was in order. He pulled on a shirt before sliding into the shoes beside the bed. He was careful to be quiet as he slunk through the halls towards one of the rooms he remembered seeing a selection of the finest drink. If he was lucky he might even run into someone that might be able to fill in the gaps of what was going on around here.

While he had mildly hoped someone else might be around to glean information from, he was a bit relieved to see no one in the sitting room when he entered. He made quick work to power himself a glass of the amber liquid. He drained half of it, savoring the slight burn he felt as it rolled down his throat. It was then when the light scent of another reach him, female for sure, but not one he was familiar with. He turned to see it was the queen mother nodding his head slightly to her, before taking a second drink from his glass. "Shall I pour you one as well?" He asked her. "It would be rude of me to drink our liquor without offering you any."

[whiskehorange]

I hope if it isn't to much trouble could I request something? Then if I can is it okay if you could make Thomas, Micheal, and whoever you choose to react to Their S/O being pounced on my a huge scary dog but Their just like aww what a cute puppy

P.S I really like your writing

Thomas

Freaks the fuck out but also really doesn't wanna hurt the dog but also it's gonna hurt you but he doesn't wanna hurt either of you omfg what does he do right now?

However, he is ready to pry that pooch off if it means you won't get hurt, he's used to a slaughter house do it can't be that bad nor will he think about it too much after the fact

Your laughter strikes him in the oddest way, seeing you underneath a dog almost double your size and they shake and vibrate what he assumed was viciously on you

He just kinda stands there like

He'll help you up regardless incase the loving beast does accidentally hurt you with his size and excitement and carefully watches you and this dog like a referee as you howl with laughter

Michael

Has no shame in pulling this dog off of you and disposing of it until you yell at him to stop. Why? Big threatening dog? What else is he supposed to do just sit here and let him kill you? Kill or be killed bitch now watch the master ramosely work

You'd rather kill Michael than the dog at this point and you swat him with the newspaper and resume being contently tackled by such an energetic dog

Michael watches you struggle to stand while holding the upper body of this dog at you make baby noises and scratch all of their scruff aggressively, being thanked with kisses and tail wags

This dog is close to Michael's height when standing on it's hind legs and you're just letting something that dangerous be reckless with you? Sounds familiar now that he thinks about it

Lil jealous you let a dog love on you like that when he's right there

Jason

Pisses and shits his undead pants and comes to your aid immediately. He can't even hear your laughter and squeals with his rampant breathing and frantic rescuing

It isn't until he's got the dog held up by the scruff of his neck outstretched in one arm you and you in the other like a mother separating two fighting siblings. Both you and the dog look at Jason with puppy dog eyes for ruining the fun, but he sets the dog down and holds you far away from him like

He's skeptical of letting you down despite your protests and assurance but eventually he'll give it up, watching the two of you wrestle on the ground like a hawk. He's ready to scoop you up at any second

Once both of you have calmed down he's more comfortable watching him lie in your lap while you pet him, the big ol' baby looks much more approachable to Jason now but he's still scared of turning into dog jerky

Hannibal

The dog hair 😞

RIP