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rosecoloreddesire · 2 years ago

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My Devil In Disguise, Pt . 4

The Blocked Road To Fame, Chapter 4

Austin! Elvis x OC, Elvis x OC

Summary: Annalise Snow is a girl that Hank Snow raised to be a good all American girl that all the other girls would want to be. Well when a boy that comes from the same Memphis Annalise missed…it turns out she’s a little more wild then she thought. Will she travel to the ends of the Earth with a boy she just met? Or will she be left in the dust?

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: swearing, yelling, 50′s racial standards in music, Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis’ Hound Dog performance, proofread twice, angst!

Note: Thank you so much for all the love on my other stories! You guys ae all amazing and I love all of y’all! I still don’t know when or how I’m gonna end this series but I hope y’all enjoy! Thanks!

“It’s Milton Berle! The whole of America will be watchin’!” Elvis tells the shop owner as he complains B.B and him are running him out of business. Annalise laughs and places a hand on Elvis’ chest.

“He don’t watch television, Elvis. He just sews the threads on y’alls backs!” She pats his lapel and winks as B.B twirls her around. He turns his attention back to Elvis as she sat down. Her attention on one of her friends helping her latch her new shoes.

“So what’s it gonna be? What’s gonna blow their wigs off?” He stands still as the shop owner measures him.

“Well the network wants me to do a ballad but I left that up to Annalise. So I’m thinkin about cuttin’ it up with Hound Dog!” He smiles and B.B whistles.

“Ho! Elvis Presley...Hound Dog? Strange things are happenin’ everyday. What’s my little Snow gonna do?” He fixed the bow on her ponytail as she looked up at the men. She places a finger on her chin in thought.

“I was thinkin’ pitchin’ and slowin’ down Heartbreak Hotel! I heard my daddy would be watchin’ so I think that’ll give ‘em a shock!” She shook her shoulders back and forth as the two men snickered at the thought.

“Did you go to Beth-Ann for the fittin’? I wanna make sure my little star looks like a real one on that television screen!” B.B wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she nodded. She looked up at Elvis as his measurements were checked as well to make sure his outfit was well in order for the performance. He looked ethereal just getting a fitting. She was gonna be a mess for when he performed later, huh?

“I can’t wait! Elvis you’re gonna love my outfit! I promise it’ll be show stoppin’! I’m gonna make my daddy pass out!“ She clapped her hands together and giggled, her feet swinging back and forth above the floor. B.B rubbed her back and stood up. Dusting his shoulders off, he placed his hand on Elvis’ shoulder.

“Honestly, E.P. That dress might make most of America’s men pass out! She’s gonna be a knock out! I told her it might be a little too much for them conservative white folk!” He chuckled as Elvis crossed his arms.

“Damn I might get a little green in the face, darlin’. I’ll try to keep calm durin’ my performance.” He winked as Annalise flushed pink. She was doin’ this really to make her dad upset. That she was no longer an angelic symbol but…teasing Elvis? That sounded like the best plan in her head.

“Now now, kids. Don’t get too excited! You guys gotta make it there first!”

———————————-

“I feel like my entire body is gonna fall, Elvis. I-I don’t think I can do this!” Her hands shook and they felt sweaty. She felt her body shiver and break out into a cold sweat. She thought this was going to be fun but she was going on right after Elvis and she KNEW it was gonna be a tough crowd after that. A gentle tug of her hand releases her from her thoughts.

“C’mon baby. I promise you’re gonna do great! Are you wearing that coat for the performance?” Her breath stopped and she wrapped the coat tighter around herself. She shakes her head and Elvis kisses her on the forehead as his name is called out.

“I can do this. I can do this.” She peaks around the navy curtain and her family is smack dab in the middle of the crowd. Her head clouding with doubt as she’s thinking about performing. Not even Elvis performing can distract her from seeing her daddy’s scorn face. How was she going to sing with him right in front of her face?

“Now, Miss Snow. Let’s take this jacket off and get you a little somethin’!“ Colonel Parker took Annalise’s coat and handed it to some assistant. He smiled as Annalise’s body shook. She took her hands as she smoothed her dress out, sweat becoming prominent in her system.

“How about you just sing your little Hallelujah or Amazing Grace! You’d be beloved for being Hank Snow’s Conservative Lass again! Make your money with your daddy again and Elvis won’t-“ She whipped her head back as he stopped his gaslighting. She raised her finger to his face.

“I ain’t gonna hear another word come out that mouth, Parker! Elvis and I are a package deal!” She scoffed as he put his hands up in surrender. She couldn’t believe the nerve of this man and why Elvis was wrapped around his finger.

“And welcome to our stage, Miss Annalise Snow!” She dropped the coat from her shoulders and winked at Tom Parker.

“And don’t cha worry, Parker. I can get Elvis to do whatever I want too.” She took a deep breath and shook her hands out. What the hell was going on with her? She walked past the curtain waving at the cheering crowd.

“Miss Annalise, you look gorgeous tonight! Now, Elvis really cut a rug! What’re you gonna do to one up ‘em?” She giggled at Milton and turned towards the audience. She made eye contact with her daddy. His face was etched in surprise, laced with a complete sneer of disgust. She smiled and looked at Milton.

“Imma sing Heartbreak Hotel! Elvis helped me pitch it up and even helped me record it in the studio at RCA! Though y’all will have to wait and see if I release it.” You sent a wink to the crowd and a few men audibly groaned. She covered her mouth and a blush made it’s way to her cheeks. The music began and her body began to relax as she was back in her element.

“Well, since my baby left me. Well, I found a new place to dwell.”

Her daddy’s jaw seemed to go slack as he watched his daughter dance for this audience. She was just like Elvis. Her raw magnetism was pulling these young men (and even a few ladies) into sin! How deplorable!

“Well, it’s down at the end of Lonely Street. At Heartbreak Hotel.”

Annalise couldn’t stop thinking about the way Elvis tore up the stage with Hound Dog. How many of those girls were feeling the same feeling she felt when she met him on the Louisiana Hayride? She gripped the microphone stand and slid her hand down it slowly.

“Where I’ll be, I’ll be so lonely baby, Well, I’m so lonely. I’ll be so lonely, I could die.”

She began to drag the mic stand with her as she walked a little closer to the camera. She sent a kiss and wink as she ended the song. Her way of singing the song was definitely more different than Elvis’. She bowed and waved at the crowd not missing her brother’s enthusiasm as he held a small sign that read, “Annalise Snow’s #1 fan!”.

“Holy, mama. I don’t think I ever wanna sing again. I just wanna hear you sing every single damn song I’ve ever sung.” Elvis’ southern drawl dripped into her ear as a protective hand found solace on her lower back. Her body felt afire.

“Well you didn’t do half bad yourself, Mister Presley” She whispered. Her hands fumbling with his lapels just so she didn’t have to look in his eyes. His electric laugh ruined that plan however. She tilted her head in confusion.

“I saw your daddy’s face out there, darlin’. He was so shocked to see ya rock that song! I’m gonna have to treat you to somethin’ special. Let’s get you ready to go home, baby.” He grabbed her coat and her hand. He laid a quick kiss on her forehead as they tried to run out of the venue as quick as they could.

——————

“Bar Elvis Presley from Television?! This is ridiculous! Just because you’re movin’!” She threw the pile of newspapers to the ground as she ran her hands shakily through her auburn hair. She bit on her nails, large hands grabbing hers as Elvis kissed them softly. The piano seemed so far away from them as she stared at the floor. More and more headlines reading their names.

“They also want you sent back to Louisiana, darlin’. They think your bein’ held captive by me and Beale Street. They got pictures of us there. I-I don’t blame you if you do but-“ “

“This is ridiculous Elvis! We’re doin’ what we love! We ain’t hurtin’ no one! Elvis I promised you I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth!” She grazed his face with her fingers as his eyes seemed to slightly soften upon the small act.

Annalise Snow: Victim or Sex Icon?

School Expels Presley Fans

Sexy Snow Melts Fans Into Sin

Elvis the Pelvis Belongs In The Jungle

“That’s one of the most childish expressions I’ve ever heard coming from an adult.” Annalise sighed in agreement. She came to rest on his lap. Tom Parker once again graces the pair with his presence.

“The New Elvis Presley! And of course the New Annalise Snow!” Annalise’s jaw dropped at the costumes. A hellish butler tailcoat and what looked like a damn communion dress! The damn thing looked like a large tutu!

“You have got to be kidding! I ain’t wearin’ that! How is Elvis gonna move in those?” She looked wide eyed at Elvis who returned the same look.

“That’s the point! They think you have broken the segregation laws. They wanna send Elvis to jail for his moves…and you to a church to learn the ways of a nun! We will take care of this the easy way!” The man pulls on the outfits on the rack and grins. Time was running out for the next performance and the pair’s brains were reeling. They knew they’d be embarrassed but why was the Colonel so happy about it?

“Just for this show? And that children’s charity concert?” Elvis let out a deep sigh as the Colonel nodded.

“Then we can put this all behind us.” Tom smiled as he placed the costumes in the hands of the two young lovers. The two picked at the costumes and hastily began to change.

“Let’s get this over with, Elvis.”

———————-

“GOD DAMNIT! I know how to do a skit! I-I coulda made it funny!” Elvis growled throwing the tailcoat to the ground. He rubbed his hands over his face. Annalise all but threw herself on the ground as tears poured from her eyes. She’s never been more mortified in her life. She messed up the lyrics and everything as she stared at the audience and could feel Elvis’ unwavering anger near her. She’s never seen him this angry since they’ve been together.

“The most stupid, embarrassing humiliatin’ thing I ever did.” Scotty placed his guitar down and placed a hand on his hip. Like he was trying to keep his anger at bay but his words came out seething.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?!”

“WE’RE MUSICIANS!” Scotty raised his hands up in disbelief. The yelling kept ramping up as Annalise tore off her dress behind one of the partitions and got back into her regular clothes as she tried to get between the two arguing men.

“PLEASE! Guys, let’s all just go home and forget about it! It’s been a long day,” the two began to pack up in silence as Annalise went to rub Elvis’ back,” you did great regardless, love.” Elvis froze but smiled softly. His anger still rampant in his eyes but clouded for the moment by his steady still trying to keep those tears in for him. He stopped a tear from falling down her cheek. He grabbed his bag and intertwined their fingers.

“I love you so much, darlin’.”

“I love you more, Elvis.

“Let’s go home, darlin’. Lord knows we need it.”

———————

Fans littered the entrance to Graceland as they made their way to the gates. Fans holding memorabilia dedicated to both of them. Saying they wanted the old them back on signs. Trying to pull at Elvis from outside the car. Annalise shrank herself down in the back. She’d never been out in the top down convertible with Elvis but at least she was in the back. She let Elvis go in first as she stood staring at the house once again.

“Where did I go wrong, Jimmie?” She shook her head and that’s when the yelling started. Where did the path divulge into this mess? She winced as she made her way through the door. It was always apparent when Gladys was drinking and when it was too much.

“It was the most embarrassing moment of my life, daddy.” Elvis was already laying down on the piano bench as she made her way in. Vernon waved her over but she stood awkwardly to the side of his chair.

“Those people were using you to poke fun at the whole South! Gettin’ a laugh at puttin’ a hillbilly in a tailcoat and singing to a dog! And then puttin’ my poor lil’ Annalise in that tragic white trash bag?!” Gladys walked away holding two bottles of beer in her hand.

“Damnit, mama. It was either that or get canceled! Then that’s it for television. Colonel says I’m running out of states that I’m welcome in. A-And they don’t pay unless I can perform.” Elvis began to sit up as he spoke. Annalise clung to the wall and tried her best to keep the tears in her eyes. She bit on the side of her cheek to keep from sobbing. She knew Gladys was drinking uncontrollably lately but it didn’t stop the fear that ran through her body as they fought. Was this Annalise’s fault? If he would’ve stayed with Dixie would this still be happening?

“Someone’s gotta think about keepin’ a roof over our heads.” Vernon said as he lit his cigarette. Annalise tried to cover her cough as he smoked.

“A roof over our head? We’ve always managed to keep a roof over our head, Vernon!” She said incredulously. She huffed and turned around again.

“Colonel has got us all of this!“ Elvis retorted. Annalise just wanted the fighting to end.

“I don’t want all of this! You’re unhappy!” She pointed at her son.

“I AM NOT!” Annalise flinched at his voice as Gladys slammed the table with her hands. The tears broke the dam she was trying so hard to keep closed. Vernon grabbed her hand and rubbed it in small circles as she fell to her knees. How was everything going wrong when it was so right a few hours before?

“You’re losing yourself booby! Look at Annalise! This isn’t the life you both need!” The two stare each other down as Vernon continued to comfort the shaking leaf that was Annalise. Gladys seeming to have a sober bit of empathy went to go towards the girl to comfort her but was interrupted by the group of guys running into the house.

“Don’t track mud in the house, Billy! Get out! Get out of my god damn house! Trailin’ mud in my house doin my damn head in,” he grabbed his coat and rubbed his temples,” Mama, you ain’t ever happy. No matter what I do. No matter how much I give ya. It ain’t ever enough. And I wish you would not drink so god damn much. It’s not good for ya!” He turned grabbing Annalise’s arm and pulling her up. He wiped her tears and took one last look at his mom before running out into the rain to his car. Annalise turns back, shocked.

“Booby! Wait!” Elvis picked Annalise up and she slid to the passenger side as Elvis hopped on after her. The engine roared to life and they whipped on out of there makin their way to the gates. Annalise panicked looking for something to hide her face. Elvis pulled her arm down. His eyes were afire in rage.

“No hidin’ now, Darlin’. I’ve got nothin’ left to lose.” The gates opened as Elvis pressed through the channels on the radio. He ignored the fans and flashing lights as he pulled out. Trying to outrun the cars he knew would follow. Annalise took a deep breath. The crisp air hitting her face and slowly relaxing her racing mind. What the hell happened to them?

————————

“Elvis, we’ll get killed if that damn Parker finds out we’re here!”The neon of Beale Street beginning to call her to the streets of her heart. She smiled but knew if they were caught that was the end of them. She could see B.B hanging out one of the windows of Club Handy. A crowd of people surrounded Elvis as he exited the car. He came around and once again picked up the shaking girl. He spun her around in his arms as people around them squealed and hollered. He placed a soft kiss to her lips and she finally smiled.

“Please, darlin’. I wanna just forget today. Let’s go have some fun, yeah?” He tilted her chin up with his finger. She nodded as she twirled around to talk to a group of women. The pair began signing autographs and hugging fans trying to make their way to the club doors.

“E.P.!”

“B.B.!”

The lovers make their way to Club Handy and finally breathe as they see the performer for the night. Annalise left B.B and Elvis to talk in the back as she went to the front. She danced with her dresser Betty-Ann and her daughter, Sally. Annalise hollered as Little Richard bent forward taking her hand. She fanned herself and giggled as the girls did the same.

“I saw your dress on the television the other day! Momma did a bang up job on ya, Miss Snow!” Sally clapped and rubbed her moms shoulder in support.

“Honestly, Miss Snow is one of my favorite customers. And not because of those way too big tips, lil thing.” Betty Ann grinned and spun around.

“I’ll always be your customer! Maybe when I get real famous I’ll hire you to be my personal wardrobe designer!” Betty-Ann jumped for joy and squealed. Her best customer and her against the world! She would’ve been delighted.

“And Sally can come with and do your hair, lovie! You better keep your promise, youngin’.” She pushed her shoulder and embraced her. The trio went back to dancing and continued to cheer on the performer. Annalise twirled and twisted. Her body intertwined with the music as the night went on. Forgetting about how awful the whole day had been.

“Hey, can I cut in? Time to dance with my star client! Right, little snow?” B.B wiggled his body, the girls snickering. B.B and Elvis made their way to the little group the girls had created. Elvis held her close and wanted nothing but her body as close as possible. With everything going on what if she was sent back to Louisiana? He didn’t even care about the jail time anymore. He cared about her being safe and in his care.

“Baby, I’m so sorry about all of this goin’ on. I-I want you safe and I-” She cut him off by grabbing his face, kissing him as hard as she could. Her lipstick staining his lips slightly. He stared down at her while B.B and the girls oooo’d. Annalise knew Elvis was overwhelmed and she knew he wouldn’t tell her that. She was going to be there for him like the good steady she was.

“Come on, Mister Presley,” his eyes seemed to darken,” dance with me why don’t ya?” His hands curled around her waist and she threw her head back in laughter. Their foreheads resting against each other as they danced.

Soon enough she’d find that picture in the paper along with the pair dancing with the others. What Annalise saw was a family and an amazing time. What the world saw was politics. The club started to wind down.

“There are strange things happenin’ everyday.”

Elvis and B.B went to the fire escape and she stayed to help clean up. She swayed to the music but all she could think of was the charity concert. She wasn’t allowed to perform at it after the police said it would put her in ‘danger’. She fought but was ultimately denied. She was told however she could sit in the front or the side by colonel.

“I’m worried, Miss Beth-Ann. I-I don’t know what I’d do if Elvis was put in jail.”

“You fight for him.”

“Fight?”

“You show those little white men who the hell they messed with, baby!”

Annalise nodded and picked up the cups on one of the tables. This was her boyfriend and she would do anything for him. Anything. To the ends of the Earth, Presley.

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poison--ivory · 4 years ago

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Uninviting Cataclysm(Alastor x Reader) Chapter 1

Daily routine isn't always good

(You call the old couple mom and dad) *Also sorry I didn't mention until now that you have really curly hair and your biracial(so you can decide what your skin color is)* •You were also raised up north and still kind of speak with that dialect•

June 6, 1915 Age: 20

The morning sun pushing through the curtains along with the sound of dogs barking slowly woke you up. Forcing yourself up and managing to bear from the comfort of your bed and it's still warm sheets. First, tidying your bed spread neat before mom could scold you.

Making your way to the wardrobe to gather clothes for today's venture, you grabbed a (f/c) V-neck, short flutter sleeve dress that hits mid thigh. With matching flats to best match your dress. Oncing over the choice for today you thought it was best enough. Setting them on the bed and quickly making your way out of your room and into the hallway.

Swiftly moving down corridor to the bathroom to freshen up before breakfast. Seeing that your old mom already set a nice bath for you. Letting your gown carelessly fall off your frame and removing your undergarments. Mindlessly going into deep thought about your day.

You usually go to the library to read or grab a book. Maybe chat with the sweet old lady and her seven year old grandson who run the place. Then, possibly taking a stroll around the fair that just open for the summer. By that time your already bringing your twin something for lunch.

Later, you either stop by the market to pick up groceries or you help your mom take care of wealthy white kids. Their parents pay mom a great deal to care for their children. She does literally everything for them from making meals to sewing dresses or little suits. But, some clients left after my brother and I showed up I guess they didn't want their children to be near a person of color for too long. The ones that stayed seem nice enough. My personal favorite being a middle aged man, Henry Bourgeois, who always said, 'hello' and gave me small tips for caring for his daughter Sally.

Your skin started to prune sitting in the water for too long. Stepping out of the tub and snatching a towel from the rack you started to dry off. Starting with hair and slowly making your way down to your toes.

Wrapping the towel around your womanly frame you crept back to your bedroom and got dressed.

__________________________

Once downstairs the smell of bacon and spices hit your nose and triggering your mouth to salivate. Walking into the kitchen you found your mom just about done with her last plate to place at the table with the two others. You greeted her with a warm hug and a 'Good Morning, Mom'. She smiled back and gave your cheek a quick peck. Then went to sit in your chair and wait for your plate.

"Good Mornin', sweetheart. How'd sleep?" She asked, turning back around to slide the eggs on the plate.

"Better than yesterday I can tell you that for sure. The dream I had was so realistic with the flames of hell melting my flesh. I could of sworn that my eyes busted through my soc-" You were cut off by a plate slamming down in front of. Looking up mom had a stern look to her aged face.

"Now ya need ta stop talking 'bout ya dreams like that. Really unladylike especially in public," She spoke with a slight authoritative tone. Lightly limping to her chair she spoke again, "it's just a dame should stay in her own lane. Not that I don't wancha to get a little fire on me now. Men just don't like that talk ya know."

Nodding to her response she took the answer and went on her to turn up the radio for the daily news.

Good Morning, ladies and gentlemen and welcome back to the radio show.

Staring your favorite radio host, I Alastor, to brighten up your morning with a few songs, but let me darken your day for just a minute with such sad news. Another body was found by an egg last night floating down the bayou.

Coppers have yet to capture this Button man. This tallies up to over twenty people in a span of two years. Now what most of you fine folk want to listen to here we have, Mr. Artie Matthew's play the 'Weary Blues'

The piano playing filled in the silence that would have been forks hitting plates trying to pick up flimsy fried egg.

The killings haven't been new and have been the norm for awhile. You can hear people talking about it at every street, alleyway and bar.

The coppers haven't caught the guy yet and it puts lots of people on edge. Especially people with families.

Nearly shoving food in my face causing mom to tell you to slow down. But, hardly listening you shove the rest of the bacon into your mouth and make your way to the sink to scrub your plate and placed it on the drying rack.

"Bye, mama. I'll be back before you know it!" You yelled from the front door way and before you could venture outside she yelled back.

"Pick up some milk and bread before ya get home, would ya?"

"I will, mama."

"Have a safe trip and the cabbage on the table for ya." She slightly limped over and gave both of your cheeks kisses.

Checking the table you hurriedly snatched the money and skipped out the door. Slamming it shut behind you.

Walking down the curvy road that leads into the city. The walk leads you through a small, little wood patch and into a small clearing that slowly shows small businesses and shops. The library is located near the school which is pretty far off from other buildings.

Reaching your destination, the library stairs are long wide, and white cemented staircase with two pillars on each side with the big doors that lead into the actually building. Pushing pass them you nearly run into a little boy, Joseph Bonnefoy.

"Oh, where are in such a rush to?" Smoothing out your dress asked in a slight taunting tone.

"Granny said I could go out for a short break. I'm getting myself a few chocolates as a snack." The words rushed out of his tiny mouth. Hardly catching his breath when he was finished.

"Well aren't you grown now, Joseph. Next thing you'll tell me your getting old enough to get your own house." Jokingly ruffling his hair, he smiled and waved off vanishing from sight once down the incline.

Sauntering into the building you noticed that Claire Bonnefoy wasn't at the front desk where she usually was. Probably in the back.

Making your way down the aisles of books you traveled around for a good five minutes passing books you didn't find interesting or they didn't have good covers. Coming across a couple of good ones you touched 'The Good Solider' reading the summary you decide to give it a try. °°It's set just before World War I and chronicles the tragedy of Edward Ashburnham, the soldier to whom the title refers, and his seemingly perfect marriage plus that of his two American friends.°°

Strolling around the aisle for a bit more you grace yourself with some dark writing. Traipsing on to some dark fiction you grabbed a fairytale book of the 'Grimm work original fairy tales'. Walking back to the front, Mrs. Claire was already their and ready for me. Smiling I greeted her and handed the books over. Smiling she rung them up and complimented the choice for this week.

" How have you been, Mrs. Claire. Not to intrude on your personal life, but is it true that the last person who died lived close to you." You questioned.

"Sadly, yes 'n I've been thinkin' of sendin' little Joseph up state with his aunt 'n uncle in Arkansas for awhile 'til this calms down." Her shaky hand clenched around the book harshly, "Or if they finally catch the bastard whose doin' all of this maybe mah little boy can stay. 'Til then mah old joints can't move like they use tah."

" Lititle Jo 's gonna feel so sad, he really likes New Orleans."

"Yes, I know dear. But, I'd sleep betta at night if he was somewhere safa." She slide the books in a paper bag and handed them over. A melancholy smile on her sweet face. "Been saving up on a train ticket for some time now. Most folk don't come by tah rent out books anymore. So, it took some time 'n hard work tah earn the money."

The killings have did put everyone at alert. Well, most people still hang out past sun fall just to watch the city come to life. Which I won't lie it is gorgeous to witness the night come to life. But, for old bims like Mrs. Claire she's dang plum tire and could use the time to calm her nerves. Maybe I should visit more once Joseph''s left.

"Thank ya, Miss. (Y/n). I'll see ya next week or so."

"The pleasure's all mine and I'll give these books back in no time."

Waving to the old bim you make your way back out the library and on tour way to your next destination.

Making your way back to the house to fetch Issacs's lunch you had to maneuver your way through the crowd of busy people scrambling around to get out of the sweltering heat and catching up with friends.

Your brother works at a boiler repair shop. Fixing cars and getting scraps of cabbage to make up for the bills that weren't paid. He's always been a hard working guy, he's selfless and protective. I still remember when we were kids and father used to hit him, so hard, but came to my defense whenever I was in trouble.

Traveling down the dusty road you made it to the repair shop where two boobs stood out front. One was always silent and the other was a continuous flirt whenever you came around.

As soon as they could hear your shoes hitting pavement the flirt Clay shot up to welcome you.

"How are doing this afternoon, (y/n)." His hand went out to grab your, which you quickly pulled back, "you know that offer still stands that if you wanna get tonight."

"I would, but I'm pretty sure your wife would raise all hell." Walking past him to look further into the garage. "Where is my brother, is he not here?"

Floyd spoke up, which startled you. His voice is pretty deep and gravely for a man only four years older than yourself. Blowing the smoke from his mouth he tapped the ash upon the ground to stare at you.

"He left early to go out with his dame. Told us to tell ya not to worry too much and that he'll be back home later tonight." He stole another drag from the cigarette.

"He could at least gave me heads up before I came all the way out here. What I'm supposed to do with this now." Dangling the bag of food from side to side.

"I'll take it off ya hands for ya." Clay swooning in to steal the bag and retreat back to standing next to Floyd. "Wish my wife could cook like your ma."

Huffing you said your good byes to them both with a very excited 'see ya' from Clay and a small wave from Floyd.

Once far away enough you groaned louder to reduce some irritation of making this heart felt trip. Pulling on your face to stop tears from forming you sighed and kept walking to your next venture.

The scratch mom gave you was enough for bread and milk. But, she also gave you enough to get something special from you little trip. You decided on a cup of coffee at the nearest restaurant with a beignet. It sounds so good right now and with more pep in your step you made it to the store in no time.

The corner store was full of people that day bustling around to grab what they need and storm out. You being the small self you are you tried to cram your way in and failed miserably. You tried this process several times and came out with the same results. Someone bumped into your small frame and sent you falling backwards. Gloved hands snatched you up before you could hit the ground.

You were in a state of shock before being knocked out of your stooper by a young man who you realized pulled you off to the side. With eyes wide you tried to make conversation, but no words would come out the only thing you could look at was his face.

"T-Thanks for helping me." You tried to mustard a smile, but it came out weird.

"You look like you were in quite the pickle their, my dear." Hands still on your waist he motioned with his head down the street. "You know there's a nice restaurant around here that serves the best venison. I think you would just adore it. Could possibly calm your nerves my treat."

Mouth still dry you tried to speak, "I don't want to impose on your lunch regimen." Shaking your head and slowly moving backwards.

"Oh, but I insist my dear I did invite you didn't I." Pulling you closer by the hip, your face heated up more than normal. Now following the man who you didn't even pick up the name you two made your way around the corner and down the street.

Stepping inside the small business you noticed only about six or eight people in here. Nicely decorated with bar stools and five booths along the wall and a bathroom across from the front entrance. But, it did smell really delicious in here maybe it won't be, so bad to have just a bite to eat. He did say he was paying. He lead us to a small booth in the back and waited for me sit down first before taking his seat across from me.

"Why did you bring me here I barely know you, sir?" Playing with your fingers to ease your nerves by making your fingers stretch and squeeze together.

His eyes looked off to the side in deep thought before he shrugged. "You looked interesting, my dear." Reaching over he scratched under your chin and his smiled covered more of his face. "Smile my dear you know your never fully dressed without one."

Making a smile fall upon your lips you smiled back. His eyes slightly narowed and his smirk stretched a bit. Suddenly, a very curvy and thick lady stood in front of our booth.

"Oh, Al are here to hear me sing again tonight. If you are your way too early, hun." She giggled.

"Oh no my dear, Mimzy. I'm here with a new friend of mine. She's going to have seasoned venison." His arm motion towards me and I froze on the spot.

Sticking your hand out for handshake, "HI, my name's (y/n). Nice to meet you."

She stared you up and down before slowly taking your hand and managing a small smile on her face. "You must be a fan, Al here, right. A lot of dumb dora fall head over heels for this man."

I guess she read the confused look on your face and answered for you. "Alastor, the radio man of New Orleans."

"Oh, sorry I guess I didn't notice." Turning your attention to Alastor, "sorry I didn't recognize a popular figure like yourself."

"It's fine dear a lot of people don't recognize the voice with the look." I'm guessing he's talking the creole look. To be honest a lot of people don't sound like the ethnicity on the phone until you see their face. But, I can't really judge I get turned down in person more than on the phone looking for a job.

"Well I'll go tell the servers the usual for you, Al." She looked you over, again. "What will you have?"

"She'll be having the same as me, mim." Alastor strong smile had her face painted in a light pink. She straighten her posture and cleared her throat and told us it it'll come out in no time. Once she gone I asked how long they've known each other.

"Mimzy and I go way back when she was a small singer. Know she travels from time to time to spread that lovely voice of hers." You just took noticed he speaks with hands a lot more than most people. But, you seem to like that.

Smiling back you told him that really amazing. It was you mothers goal before she stated using. He asked you about your occupation.

"Well, I really wanted to be a baker, but no plots are open, too expansive or I'm not the right skin tone for this establishment." Looking up for just a second you could have sworn the smile on his face fell and quickly went back into place.

"Isn't that just dreadful." He focused up at the ceiling for awhile and shot his head down to smirk at me, "How would like to work for me for a fair price a hour?"

"What?"

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #1920s #human alastor #hazbin hotel mimzy #toxic family #foster family #alastor being a jerk #period typical racism #hazbin hotel au

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beelsnack · 5 years ago

Text

Obey Me! Boys and the Hidden Talent You Wouldn’t Expect Them To Have

Lucifer: Honestly, they had thought it was just for decoration.

Considering how little the brothers actually used anything in the music room, they had just assumed most of the instruments in there were just for show. The only reason they were proved wrong was by sheer accident.

Their insomnia had been a hindrance back in the human realm, but now that the constant darkness of the Devildom had taken a hammer to their circadian rhythm, they found themselves wandering the halls of the House of Lamentation more and more frequently in the middle of the night. While they knew they weren’t the only one awake at this hour (they had made the mistake of wandering too close to Asmo’s room and discovered that his nights were very active) they typically were the only one out of their room.

It was their second pass around the first floor when they heard it. A faint, unfamiliar melody ringing softly down the hall. Before they realized what they were doing, their feet had brought them to the music room. When they peeked through the doorway, the sight made them freeze.

Lucifer was seated on a bench, eyes closed in an uncharacteristically serene expression. The soft candlelight shone behind him, making him look every bit like the angel he once was as his long, graceful fingers plucked skillfully at the strings of the harp. The song was hauntingly beautiful, much like Lucifer himself, and something about it made the human’s breath catch in their throat.

They hadn’t thought they made a noise, but demon hearing was something else. Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, hands halting over the strings as the two of them made eye contact.

At first, it seemed like Lucifer was preparing to scold them, and they felt themself reflexively tensing. Instead, Lucifer’s expression softened.

“You should be in bed.” his voice betrayed how tired he was, even if he appeared just fine.

“I couldn’t sleep.” they murmured. Speaking too loudly might break the spell, and this gentle illusion would shatter.

“Hm.” he motioned them forward, patting the spot next to him. The bench was small enough to when they sat down, they were shoulder-to-shoulder with Lucifer. “I couldn’t sleep either.”

“I didn’t know you could play the harp.” they blurted out. Lucifer, caught off guard by their bluntness, stared down at them for a moment before sighing. A nostalgic smile pulled at his lips, and they found themself wishing he would smile like that more often.

“A skill left over from the Celestial Realm. Playing always put me at ease.”

“Will you keep playing for me?”

He chuckled softly. “Of course. Shall I play a lullaby for the two of us?”

Mammon: “Are we done studying yet? This sucks!”

They didn’t even bother looking up from their textbook. Mammon had done more complaining than studying at this point, and they were honestly too worked up about passing this test tomorrow to worry about entertaining him.

“You can be done if you want, I’m going to keep going.” they mumbled. They talked big, but they had been reading the same sentence over and over again without taking in a single letter. They knew that it wasn’t really helping, but they were convinced that if they didn’t spend every last second studying the material, they were going to fail spectacularly. Honestly, after one semester of Potions, they were never going to complain about chemistry every again.

“You’re gonna ruin your eyes, at this rate.”

They nearly jumped out of their skin. When had Mammon gotten up? How had he gotten behind them without them noticing? Shit, maybe they did need to give it a rest.

“Alright, alright,” they sighed. “I’m not retaining any of this stuff anymore anyway - ow, fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” Mammon sounded unnecessarily terrified, the big worrier.

“Nothing, nothing, sorry.” they brought a hand up to the back of their neck. “Been hunched over for too long, my neck and shoulders are mad at me.”

“Damn, human, you had me thinkin’ you were dyin’ or something.” he breathed out. “Here.”

“What are - “ they cut themselves off as Mammon’s warm hands settled on their shoulders. His thumbs worked soothing circles on the column of their neck before sliding down to work on their shoulder blades.

They felt their eyes slipping close without their consent. “Holy shit, Mammon.” they probably should be a bit more concerned with how breathy their voice sounded, but he was working wonders on their stiff muscles.

He knew just how much pressure to apply, just how to move his hands. The warmth of his palms seeped through their shirt, and they let out a sigh that might have sounded a bit like a moan.

“Hey, you can’t go makin’ those noises while I’m doin’ this.” his voice had gone just a bit lower. “You’re gonna make it awkward.”

“Sorry.” they muttered. “But you’re really good at this. You should open up a massage parlor. You would make a killing.”

“Heh, I thought about it.” he pulled his hands away, and they almost whined at the loss of contact. “But I don’t want to have to rub my hands over some crusty old bastard.”

“Oh well,” they shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to just keep you to myself then.”

Leviathan: “Hey, normie, open up!”

They considered ignoring him in favor of finishing up this very intense Pokemon battle, but it was pretty rare that Levi came to their room without texting them first. With a sigh, they shut their DS and hopped off of their bed to let him in.

“What’s up?” they leaned against the doorway.

“Didn’t you hear? That new MMO is having an exclusive pre-release event. Only the first 300 can get in! Go get set up, people have been talking about this new totally OP armor they’re going to - “

Levi cut himself, peering over their shoulder and wrinkling his nose. “What’s that?”

At first, they thought he was talking about their DS, but when they looked behind them, they realized what he meant.

“Ah, yeah.” the walked over to their bed and picked up the old stuffed dragon toy. They creadled him gently to their chest and frowned a little. “He got a little roughed up on his way to the Devildom. I had to get creative.”

The toy was clearly well loved, but the real attention-grabber was the piece of duct tape holding its front left leg to the rest of it. Little bits of fluff could be seen beneath the tape and it was clear that the repair job wasn’t going to last for much longer.

Leviathan clicked his tongue. “That’s never going to hold. Bring him over after the event tonight.”

“Why?” the human tilted their head, clutching the dragon tighter like they were afraid Levi was going to mercy-kill him.

“I’m going to fix him for you, duh.” there was a faint dusting of pink high on his cheekbones, and he looked away quickly. “I don’t like to bring my sewing stuff out of my room, I’ll lose it for sure.”

“You can sew?” they sounded incredulous. “Since when?”

“Th-there was a contest a while back. Whoever made the best TSL cosplay got to have a meet and greet with the cast of the movie.” Levi looked like he was about to catch fire now. “Of-of course, I couldn’t just go buy stuff, everyone knows the handmade stuff is better, so I learned how to sew.”

“Levi, that’s amazing!”

Levi blinked. “I-It is?”

“Duh!” they beamed up at him. “I could never do anything like that! I definitely owe you one if you can fix him up for me!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he muttered, staring down at his feet. How was he supposed to handle getting compliments like that?

“It is!” they placed their toy back on their bed in favor of wrapping their arms around Levi’s middle. “Thank you so much!”

“Whoa, hey! You can’t just d-do that all of a sudden!”

Satan: They quite enjoyed their study dates with Satan. The two of them could sit in amiable silence for hours and just focus on getting their work done. It was peaceful, and Satan never minded if they took a rest on his shoulder

As they struggled to keep their eyes open (a coffee break might be in order soon) they caught sight of something in the margins of Satan’s notebook.

It started as idle pencil marks in the corner of the page. Little spirals that slowly transformed into vines winding their way down the side. Delicate little flowers soon began to bloom at random intervals until finally, in the bottom corner, Satan was in the middle of doodling a lotus flower.

“That’s so pretty.” they felt Satan jump as they broke the silence.

“What?” he blinked, refocusing. “Oh. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.”

“I should have known you were a doodler.” they laughed. “I read somewhere that people who doodle in class actually retain more information.”

“Is that right?” Satan muttered, more to himself than anything. “That explains my notes in class. I wonder if there’s a reason I enjoy drawing outside of a learning environment?”

They nudged him before he got too deep in his own thoughts. “You’re allowed to just have a hobby, Satan. There’s no need to psychoanalyze it so much.”

Asmo: When they had admitted that they had never gotten their nails done, Asmo had wasted no time in whisking them away to his room. He insisted that everyone should have a manicure at least once in their life, sat them down on the chaise lounge in his bedroom and set to work.

Admittedly, they probably should be taking care of their nails better, and it was nice to have someone pamper them a little bit. They hadn’t really been expecting the hand massage at the end.

“Oh, you have earth hands, darling.” Asmo said as he worked his thumb into the center of their palm. “Reliable, stubborn, practical. Fits you to a T!”

“Huh?”

Asmo ignored them, continuing to analyze their hand. “Your love line starts under your index finger. Well, with seven partners, I should hope you’re content with your love life.”

“Asmo, what the hell?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, darling.” Asmo laughed, tracing his finger in a circle in the center of their hand. “I suppose I should ask before I read your palm.”

“Is that what that was?” they asked. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Mm, there’s plenty of things I can do, my dear.” he practically purred. “An old lover of mine was a practiced chiromancer. I always thought it was fascinating, being able to read a person just by the lines on their hands, so I had them teach me. If nothing else, it’s a neat party trick.”

“Wow...” the human murmured, staring at their hand. “What else can you tell?”

Beelzebub and Belphegor: It had been decided long ago that Beel could not be trusted with cooking duty on his own. So the twins always had joint cooking duty.

It had also been decided that Belphegor couldn’t be trusted with waking up for cooking duty, so Lucifer tacked the human on as well.

None of them particularly minded it. Well, Belphie minded it a little, seeing as Beel had to literally fireman carry him to the kitchen. But all three of them worked well as a team.

It wasn’t terribly uncommon for Beel to hum to himself when he cooked. The kitchen was his element, and cooking always seemed to put him in a cheerful mood. It was uncommon, however, for Belphie to join in.

They hadn’t really been paying attention, simply registering the twins as background noise while they focused on their task. But soon, Beel’s humming turned to lyrics in a language that the human didn’t understand, but sent a shiver up their spine anyway.

Beel sang in a smooth baritone voice that they could feel thrumming through their chest. The human found themself closing their eyes and listening, nearly forgetting that they were supposed to be chopping up mandrake root.

They almost chopped their finger off when Belphie joined in.

When they turned around, the twins had their backs facing either other, but they had paused in their work. Both of them wore identical expressions of nostalgia - eyes closed, lips tugged upwards in a soft smile. Belphie’s soft, clear tenor mixed with Beel’s low timbre, and, despite not understanding a single word, the human felt goosebumps rise up their arms.

When they finished the song, the twins opened their eyes and looked at each other over their shoulder. Beel honestly looked like he was going to cry out of sheer joy.

“It’s been a while since we sang together.” Beel grinned.

“At least a century.” Belphie nodded, shaking his head. “I’m surprised my voice hasn’t broken.”

“I feel like I’m intruding on a family moment, here.” the human muttered. They honestly hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but by the time they realized, it was too late. The twins had turned their gazes on them like they had just stood on the table and started screaming.

“What’re you talking about?” Belphie drawled.

“You are family.” Beel smiled, crossing the kitchen in three strides to ruffle their hair. “So you can’t be intruding.”

They stuck their tongue out at Beel, ducking out from underneath his hand. “Can you two teach me that song?”

#I want obey me character songs #shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years ago

Text

SOMETHING ROMANTIC

Happy Lowman x Marcus Alvarez daughter!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy, this is something I wrote for no reason. Gif isn't mine.

Warnings: Weirdo Happy perturbing Santo Padre.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

The toothbrush goes from one side to another, turning when it reaches the corner of his mouth. He has the forearms over the picnic table, sitting next to Chibs, Tranq, Taza, Juice and Ray. They're talking about something that Happy can't hear focused on you, sitting on the floor and chewing gum with a spray gun in your right hand, painting the body of your bike, so concentrated in every line you're drawing that a war could be going on around you and you don't even know it. The ex-nomad could spend the rest of his life looking at you in silence, stunned at the way your fingers move so slowly and so precisely, feeling jealous just a second, wishing he could be in the position of your motorbike right now. And your fingertips touring his skin. Again.

“—ove”.

Happy turns his gaze to Chibs, while his brothers breaks in laughters. He wasn't paying attention, so he's waiting for his president to repeat the words.

“Shit, Happe', ya' looks lak'a teen in love”.

Frowning he puts his attention back to you. The scottish man is right, he hasn't even noticed that Marcus and Bishop have joined the table, staring at the Son'.

“I wanna marry your daughter, hermano”. Happy says with an appealing voice, without looking at your father, when he smells his unmistakable cologne.

The mexican raises both eyebrows sort of surprised and confused. Bishop is lost with his improvised decision.

“I think I'm in love with her”. He adds, feeling a lot of eyes on his person.

“What?” Taza asks about laugh bewildered.

“When you knew that, brotha’?” Marcus spoke this time, leaning above the table after turning at you for a while.

“This morning”.

They're expecting for something else, but he keeps letting his dark orbs travel all over your hands covered by paint stains, moving so easily that give him chills in his stomach.

“Watching her dancing naked”.

“You fell in love with her 'cause you saw her dancing naked?” Tranq tries to figure out how this could be possible.

“Did you see my daugh—? Did you fuck my daughter, man?”

“She was making me breakfast”.

Happy isn't listening, he don't give a shit if your father is about to tie him on the wall to rip his skin off, piece by piece. He's focused in the way your fingers get tangled in every bristle of your hair to create a messy bun with them. He's obsessed with your hands, as if he was spellbound. And he hasn't even seen you shoot a gun with them. That's gonna be his downfall.

“She was dancing ‘Adventure Time’ theme song, cooking pancakes and making me a cereal bowl”.

The other men are amazed by the way he has to talk about something so random with his typical and usual scratchy voice, as if he was talking about murder someone he doesn't even knows. But he's talking about you and his tone doesn't shake. That's why they know he's being serious.

“Anyone could do pancakes and a cereal bowl”. Juice laughs without knowing that his innocence is going to cost him to lose part of his physical integrity.

With a fast move and his gaze permanently on you, he grabs his nape hitting his head against the table with a noisy and loud sound. Juice starts to growl between curses and sobs, falling backwards towards the ground, when he wants to get up in his seat.

“Not even my mom knows that I like cereals before milk”.

Sons and Mayans are fascinated, putting their eyes on you. It's to hot outside, with the southern Cali' heat toasting your skin covered by colored tattoos. Getting up from the floor shaking the jumpsuit with knotted sleeves on your low waist, you take all your paint stuff between your arms walking towards the small plot with a roof on it, with some shading that will avoid the sun to makes you some burns in your shoulders. Leaving your things there, you walk back to your bike grabbing the handlebar to drive it there.

“She can run me over with her Harley whenever she wants, once and again till she kills me, drowning me with my own blood”.

“You're fuckin' perturbing me, man”. Bishop says with his face out of shape.

“He's that... kind of romantic”. Chibs palms your uncle's back laughing out loud.

“She hit you hard, eh, Happy?” Juice talks back, sitting again whilst rubs his forehead. Luckily he didn't break his nose.

“More than I could hit you till take away your last breathe”.

Holding the toothbrush between the forefinger and the thumb, he gets up of the bench, putting well his clothes on.

“The fac' ya' going, Happe'?” Chibs asks, whilst Marcus rubs his face hard with both hands.

“He's not gonna do'et, right?” Taza leaves the question in the air, looking at the men sitting around him, before getting his gaze back to the Son'.

He's walking with his self-confidence in the clouds, throwing away the toothbrush and his eyes on you, studying every gesture you made when you find him going towards you so serious that it's starting to scare you. Without a word, he takes off of his little finger a heavy gold seal skull-shaped, offering it to you with his arm stretched to you. Some inches separate you, kneeling on the ground holding the spray gun with a raised eyebrow and the tip of the nose wrinkled. He moves his hand one time, urging you to take the ring.

Your eyes travel to the picnic table, with incredulous men sitting there. Your father is freaking out and your uncle is losing it too. Doubting, you grab it having a look of it, before look at Happy again. Leaving away the paint, you take off the bluetooth headphones of your ears.

“I like it”. You say, 'cause you're not sure what he's trying to tell you.

“Good, you're gonna carry it for the rest of your life”.

“Perdona, ¿qué?” (Excuse me, what?)

“Jesus Christ, he's doen'et”. You can hear Chibs' surprised voice, turning to him again when they all break in laughter.

“The... hell you doin', Happy?”

“We're gonna get married”.

“We're what?” Getting up and keeping the headphones inside the jumpsuit' pocket, you lift both eyebrows with pursed lips.

“Yea', I wanna marry you”.

“Ah... Wh—What makes you think that I'm gonna marre' you?”

“You don' wanna break my heart”.

“Didn' know you have one”.

“And you also made me breakfast, after fuckin' you so hard I didn't think you could walk”.

“Yea', ah... I was hungry, I thought you too”.

“And you were watching cartoons”.

“‘Adventure Time’ is not only a cartoon”.

“See? What I said”.

Narrowing your eyes, you twist your neck with somekind of confusion. You look again to your father, who shrugs his shoulders not understanding what's happening.

“Listen, imagine that. Me, coming home. At night. With blood in my face after stabbing a guy, and you sewing my gaps, watching cartoons”.

“Does it...?” Licking your lower lip, you cross your arms over your chest. “Does it should sound romantic?”

“With burning red candles”.

You're trying to contain your laughs, pursing your lips and with the holes of your nose getting opened. He opens his arms like it pretty obvious it's the best plan ever.

“So your perfect idea of having a date is me, healing you at four am, when I could be sleeping, and watching cartoons illuminated by red candles”.

“After stabbing some guy”.

“After stabbing some guy...”

“Gripping”. Tranq says some meters away, looking at you two as if he was watching some Netflix movie.

“Do you have a better idea?” He asks you then.

“About the date or about marrying you?”

“My mom taught me to make tacos. You're mexican, you like tacos”.

“Happy... that sound rough and it's a fuckin' clic—”.

“Don' you like tacos?”

“But not 'cause I'm mex—”

“So I can make it for you. That's romantic too”.

“After stabbing some guy”.

“'Course”.

“Ok, weirdo...” You say taking off the collar hanging on your neck, to put the ring in it before wearing it again.

“Wh—What are you...?” Happy turns confused to your father, shaking his head. “What is she doin'?”

“I think she doesn' wanna smear it with paint”. Marcus answers getting up of his seat.

“We're getting married then?” The Son' asks to you, seeing how you kneel to take back the spray gun.

“I'm scared of what you could do if I say ‘no’?”

“Somethen' pretty romantec', lass”. Chibs laughs from the picnic table, provoking the laughter of the men around him.

#sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman imagine #happy lowman

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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 4 years ago

Text

Superposition

a deancas college roommates AU

Chapter 3 is up on AO3! You can also read every chapter on tumblr with this chapter masterlist!

An Old Friend

Present

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean thought his brain was going to explode. It ached from the accident in the shop, sure, but Cas sitting at his bedside was making the pounding ten times worse.

“Wh-What are you doin’ here, man?” Dean choked out. His throat was dry, and he coughed to clear it. Cas reached below his chair and extended a bottle of water to Dean. Dean just stared at it.

“Drink it, you’ll feel better,” Cas said. Dean slowly sat up to accept the water, not taking his eyes off of Cas the whole time. He opened and drank it, silently, watching Cas as if he were about to disappear. Dean was ninety-eight percent sure he would disappear.

“Thanks,” Dean said after he had drained the bottle.

“To answer your question,” Cas said, “I was on my way to Kansas City when my car just… Broke down. I had Triple A tow it to the nearest mechanic. I had no idea…”

I had no idea you worked there. Cas hadn’t expected, hadn’t meant to run into him here. That fact hurt more than Dean was willing to deal with, sitting in a hospital with God knows how many stitches in his forehead. He pushed the thought away and cleared his throat again.

“What’s in Kansas City?” He asked.

“A job.”

“Writing job or accounting job?”

Cas blinked at him. “Accounting. I never finished my creative writing degree.”

Dean’s head whipped up at that, but he immediately regretted the movement. “Agh, fuck,” he said. “My whole damn head hurts. What did I hit it on?”

“I’m not sure, I didn’t see,” Cas said. “The doctor said you would probably have a concussion. They gave you eight stitches.”

“Concussion, my ass,” Dean grumbled, but he knew Cas was right. He had only been sitting for a few minutes, but the room was swimming. It must have been obvious, because Cas stood up and placed a hand firmly on his chest. Dean flinched away at the touch.

“You should lay back down.”

“Right.”

Dean settled back against the pillow, attempting to keep his thoughts away from the pain in his head.

“So… Accounting. In Kansas City,” Dean said. Cas nodded. “Big man. When did that happen?”

“I interned at the firm last summer. They approved of my work enough to offer me a job post-graduation,” Cas explained.

“Ah,” Dean said. Cas had been, at most, forty minutes away in the summer. And he hadn’t even called, hadn’t even bothered to stop by Lawrence. He closed his eyes — the lights were still too bright. “You said you didn’t finish the writing thing?”

“No,” Cas said, shortly. “I was… It was too many courses. I would have had to take a fifth year. Committing to one major allowed me to graduate a semester early.”

Dean murmured in understanding. “When did you graduate anyway? Damn it must have been —”

“Two weeks ago,” Cas said.

“Would’ve been nice to know.”

Cas blinked at him. “I wasn’t aware that you cared.”

Dean drew his hand into a fist. “What the hell is —”

“Ah, Mr. Winchester, you’re awake.” A small woman in a doctor’s coat interrupted him. “I’m Dr. Barnes, your attending.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Thanks for sewing me up,” Dean said, pointedly avoiding looking at Cas.

“It’s not a problem. I’m just going to check you out, make sure you’re doing all right.” She turned to Cas. “Mr. Novak, I assure you, he’s in the best of hands here. Go get something to eat.”

Cas gave Dean a final lingering stare before exiting the room.

“How long was I out?” Dean asked as Dr. Barnes removed the bandage on his forehead to check his stitches.

“About twelve hours. Unsurprisingly, you lost a lot of blood. That coupled with the head trauma had you knocked down pretty good.”

“Twelve hours,” Dean muttered. “Damn, so it’s Thursday already?”

Dr. Barnes nodded. “I’m going to need you to follow this light with your eyes, okay?” Dean did. She studied him for a moment. “Well, you’re definitely concussed.”

“How long til it goes away?” Dean asked, irritated. He couldn’t bear the idea of leaving Bobby alone in the shop for long. Plus, Sam was coming for Christmas, and he would jump at the possibility of bossing Dean around for once. The thought alone was irritating.

“Best guess? A week, minimum. No screens for at least the next twelve hours. And drink lots of water. I’ll print some other information out for you to help speed up the recovery.”

Dean thanked her, and she smiled. “That Mr. Novak a good friend of yours?” She asked.

“An old friend,” Dean said in reply.

“I only ask because he quite literally hasn’t left your side since he brought you in. Knew all your information, too,” Dr. Barnes said. “It’s nice to have friends like that.”

“I guess,” was all Dean could say.

“Speak of the devil,” Dr. Barnes said as Cas returned to the room, holding two bags of Doritos and two more water bottles. “Mr. Winchester is healing up nicely, but he’s definitely concussed. Do me a favor and make sure he doesn’t go back to that shop until next week?”

Cas’ eyes flickered to Dean, then back to Dr. Barnes. “You have my word.”

“Excellent. Well, Mr. Winchester, I’ll just go print off some paperwork, and then you’ll be free to go.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Dean said.

When she had left the room, Cas sat back down in his chair, placing one of the waters and chip bags on Dean’s bed. “I figured you might be hungry.”

“Whatever,” Dean said, opening the bag. “They didn’t have any beer?”

“This is a hospital, Dean,” Cas deadpanned. “Besides, I’m fairly certain alcohol would do nothing to aid your recovery process.”

“What do you know,” Dean muttered, but downed half of the water in one go, anyway. “How long are you in Lawrence?”

“As long as it takes for Mr. Singer to fix my car, I suppose,” Cas said.

“Bobby,” Dean corrected automatically. Hearing his boss referred to as Mr. Singer was just cosmically wrong.

“Right.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but that’s probably going to take a while.”

“What? How long?”

Dean shrugged. “If I’m out for a whole week… God, it’d probably take two, maybe three depending on how serious it is. We’re the most trusted shop in Lawrence, we’ve got appointments, and we gotta take care of them first.” This was mostly true, but Dean doubted that whatever was wrong with Castiel’s car couldn’t be fixed in a week. But he needed Cas to give up the noble role of caretaker as soon as possible.

Cas narrowed his eyes at that. “And I’m sure if you were to get back to work sooner, this problem could be avoided?”

“Exactly.”

“Well,” Cas sighed. “It’s a good thing my starting date isn’t for another three weeks. I was just coming down early to get settled. But I can wait.”

Dean stared at him for a moment. He really couldn’t stand the idea of sitting around for a week with nothing to do. But if he knew Cas at all — and he thought perhaps he still did — he knew Cas would relay the doctor’s orders to Bobby, who would then resolutely deny Dean any hours at the shop.

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“I’ll get a hotel.”

Dean blinked. “The hell you will. For three weeks? Dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Dean,” Cas started, but Dean cut him off.

“No way. Look, I get back to work on Monday, your car’s fixed on Tuesday. I owe you one, I’ll work fast. Then you’re out of here. We can pretend this never happened, you can get on with your life in the big city.”

“You have a concussion.”

“Yeah, and since when did you give a damn about what happened to me?” Dean’s voice had gone low. The original shock of seeing Cas had worn off. All that was left was a low-burning rage. He was angry, so angry that Cas was here, that Cas essentially gave him a concussion, that Cas drove him to the hospital, that Cas stayed with him the whole night, that Cas could leave and waltz back in whenever he pleased and Dean couldn’t even pretend to hate him.

Cas stiffened. “I… Dean, you — ”

“No, man.” The anger died as fast as it had ignited. Dean’s head was positively throbbing now. He wiped his face with a hand. “You should go.”

“You can’t drive, Dean.”

Dean inhaled slowly through his nose to keep from yelling at the other man, right here in the middle of the hospital. “Cas, I swear to fucking God…”

“You’re acting like a child,” Cas said.

“Yeah, I’m the childish one,” Dean said under his breath.

Cas narrowed his eyes as he approached Dean’s bed. His proximity, not to mention the steeliness of his gaze, made Dean feel like squirming.

“I don’t care if you have a problem with me. I’m not going to let you drive home with a head injury. We were friends once, and I don’t intend to dishonor that by allowing you to do something this stupid.” When Dean opened his mouth to protest, Cas cut him off with, “Do you really want to do this right now?”

And “this” meant so many things all at once that Dean almost lost track of the argument they were having in the first place. Do you really want to talk about why I left right now? Do you really want to yell at me for disappearing right now? Do you really want to argue about who is and isn’t allowed to drive right now?

They stared at each other for a moment, Cas’ gaze unfathomable, Dean’s angry.

“No,” Dean grumbled. “Just get me out of here.”

Thanks to anyone who goes on AO3 and leaves kudos, you’re all so wonderful🥺🥺Also tagging @nguyenxtrang for updates (when you asked to be tagged wow!! my heart sang!! thank you!!)

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn fanfic #destiel fanfic #superposition

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emily-strange · 5 years ago

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Growing Pains...

So here it is. The first chapter of my RDR2 Story. I can’t believe I’m doing this….please be kind? But also really happy for constructive criticism! Bit of a long one to start, just to get it all going.

Any advice on Titles? I’m terrible with them!!

Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.

Pairing: None yet, eventual Micah x female OC.

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual themes, Minor mention of blood (they’re outlaws after all).

Chapter 1

God it’s good to have Sean back. I know how much he pisses everyone off, but that guy has been my partner in crime since before I can remember. My life lacked a lotta fun before he found himself with us. He’s like my weird, Irish, little brother…. who’s older than me. And hooks up with my favourite aunt/sister/best girl-friend. Yeah, this family is one screwed up party.

“Whatta you writin’ there?” John asks before almost collapsing on me, “You know there’s a party goin’ on right?”. I look around and in fact only see Uncle, the Reverend and Susan still up, chatting around a table scattered with bottle.

“Yes, I’m well aware” I say rolling my eyes. I close my journal before he can catch a glimpse. He’s always trying to.

“You’ve spent way too much time with Arthur” he slurs before taking another swig of whiskey and handing the bottle to me. I take a glug like it’s water. Hell, been drinking the stuff since I was young enough to only have water.

“I like the writin’ thing. Gives me a way to complain about ya without getting in trouble from Hosea”.

John takes the bottle and clutches his chest like he’s been shot, “Cruel, just cruel. I came all the way here from that tree to check on ya” he laughs and points to a tree only a few steps away, “….you were on ma stop before Abiga..”, I can’t help but interrupt him.

“No, John! You’re drunk. You’ll do more damage than good. You haven’t fought in days. Why ruin that!?”. I know I sound shrill but my God, he’s exhausting sometimes!

“Cauz. I’m horn…….nevermind.” he quickly takes another glug of his drink and avoids eye contact until I’m pretty much staring him down, face to face. Idiot boy. I can’t believe that after Jack I’m the youngest.

He finally meets my eyes, “Alright! God damn, I’ll goda bed! Jeesus. From now on ya Emmy Morgan not….ya know…..whatever” he says while slumping down, clearly fed up of being scolded like a child. I hate having to be his brain sometimes. But if I didn’t think for him, he’d of never come home. It was one of my best days riding back into camp after getting him from the station. It was hard but he’s my brother. Blood or not.

I kiss his cheek and hug him around his shoulders.

“Go to bed John,” I mumble into his shoulder “it’ll all look better in the mornin’”. I pull back and he nods before getting up on shaky, drunken legs.

“Yeah, yeah. Night little sister. Just. Please do me a favor?”. I tilt my head to signal him to continue, “Don’t just write about ya life like Arthur. Live it. Ya young.”. He pats my head clumsily and I smile. I quite like drunk John. More often than not he talks more sense than sober John.

I watch him stumble towards his own tent. I can just about see him collapse onto his cot and after a few moments, when I’m sure he won’t stumble back out of it into Abigail’s, waking her and Jack, I turn back to the fire and my journal.

Lord this gang. This family. I’d be lost without them but sometimes feel smothered by them. Dutch hasn’t let me leave the camp once since we got here. Too worried about Pinkertons and O’Driscoll’s. I should be grateful that he wants to act as my pa when mine was so shite, but he isn’t my pa. And I’m not the child I once was. Hosea sees it, John sees it, Arthur….well, Arthur begrudgingly sees it but he sees it nonetheless. Maybe if I get Arthur on side?

I slam my journal with an incredibly audible huff, “Why do I have to get anyone on side. I’m 18 God dammit, nearly 19! Abigail had Jack at my age”. A voice cuts through my quiet and has me jumping out of my skin.

“I wouldn’t model yourself on Miss Roberts if I were you,” Micah comes into view in front of me. Taking a seat on the other side of the fire, “A bit of a ‘loose’ cannon if you follow my meanin’”.

He’s not got his coat on and he’s wearing that red shirt he loves so much. Sleeves rolled up. Why the heck do I keep looking at his arms? His hat’s sat as always on top of his blonde mop of hair.

“Micah” I greet. Somewhat curtly, not that I was meaning to. Still catching my breath from his shock arrival. “I didn’t hear you.”.

He laughs deeply at that and opens his arms in a wide gesture, “It’s a skill sweetheart”. I hate it when he calls me that. I don’t like what it does to me. And it ruins the sweetness of it that Arthur has when he calls me it. But I know asking him to stop will only encourage him more so I keep quiet.

“So”, I whistle out the word, “how much of that did you hear?”. I take a chance and look up at him, only to regret it. He’s sporting that shit-eating grin of his.

“Well, I heard you play mother to scar face aaaand then mutter to ya self about not bein’ a child….bit childish though aint it? Talkin’ to ya self I mean”, Micah huffs a laugh at his own joke and takes a hearty swig of the bottle he’s holding. He holds it out to me and stupidly, I accept.

“Teasing other people about their private thoughts Mr Bell. Also a bit ‘childish’ aint it?”, I finish the bottle and put it down by the log I’m leaning against. I watch him as he pretends to ponder.

“Maybe.” Is the only answer he gives. Well this was well and truly pointless.

We look at each other for a few moments. I hate that smug look on his face! So why can’t I look away?

Thankfully he breaks the silence before it gets too awkward.

“Dutch been keepin’ ya on a short leash?” he asks while throwing twigs into the flames. I’m almost stunned at how normally he asks the question. No mirth or venom. I catch myself smiling, hopefully just before he notices. I clear my throat.

“Um, yeah. He has. He’s worried. But I used to do quite a lot outta camp before, well, ya know”, he nods along with my words “It’s kinda suffocating here sometimes”. I feel guilt wash over me at admitting my plight to another person. Some people would give their right leg to be coddled like this. To be kept safe in camp away from the evils that stalk us. Micah breaks me out of my own thoughts.

“Don’t do that” he says. I look up at him but he’s still staring at the fire. When I don’t reply, only look quizzically at him he continues. “Don’t feel bad for wantin’ more. For wantin’ to do somethin’ other than sew and scrub shit off people’s shoes. Guilt. It’s pointless. A useless emotion. Used by weaker people to keep the better ones down.”.

“You don’t actually believe that right? Guilt. It….the feeling means you’re human….that you care about other people.”, he looks at me then. Dead in the eyes. Unblinking.

“Well then sweetheart. I guess I’m not human”.

What can I possibly say to that?

I clear my throat again and take a moment to ruminate on what he’s just said. I break the eye contact but I can tell he’s still looking at me.

“That’s not true Mr Bell. You’re human. I’ve seen you bleed like the rest of ‘em. Patched you up a bit too if you remember.”. I think briefly of a time before Blackwater, when he came back to camp after a run in with the O’Driscolls’. He’d been slashed on the side by a knife. Nothing too bad but my word did it bleed. I gave him the stiches myself. Been doing that for a long time now. Everyone thought it best to get another person in the know of how to do the basic stuff.

He’d come back into camp clutching his side and shoved everyone away. Saying he could do it himself. Grabbed the needle and thread before dropping the flaps of his tent and getting to work. Everyone let him. I mean, wouldn’t you? In the months he’d been running with us he hadn’t been kind to pretty much anyone. I’d kept my distance. Arthur asked me to and, well he’s my big brother so. But when I walked past Micah’s tent, and I heard him whimper like a dying rabbit. I couldn’t just head to bed.

“Mr Bell?” I called gently, “Mr Bell?”.

I received a strained “what!?” in return. I’ve never really been one to scare easily. Maybe this was my own little version of playing with fire. But I just walked right into his tent. No asking, no preamble. Just, walked right in.

He was sat on his cot, shirtless. He was using his black shirt to try and stem the bleeding and despite the dark colour, I could see it become drenched in crimson. He looked at me, breathless and pale.

“What the hell do ya think ya doin’?!” he said. He wasn’t shouting. Probably felt too weak for that. His mouth hung open and he was almost panting. Sweat beading on his forehead and chest.

Despite my very best efforts, my eyes were drawn to his chest. It looked, firm? Firm and rippled with patches of light hair. Scars were scattered on his chest and stomach but his arms were basically intact. I was pulled from my thoughts by his gruff voice. “Girl!?” he spat as sternly as his condition would muster.

I gathered myself quickly and rushed to his side, kneeling on the floor.

“I’m gonna help you Mr Bell whether you want me to or not so for this once, just hush. I won’t tell anyone that you let me help you and once you’re sewn up I’m gone.”. As I hurried my words out, I took the needle and thread from beside him on the cot. I figured if I did it quickly enough he’d be too slow in this state to refuse. I threaded the needle easily and gently pushed on his chest to move him back a bit. He was warm and clammy under my palms but it wasn’t lost on me that this was my first time touching the chest of a man who wasn’t what I considered ‘family’.

Micah had grunted but stayed quiet. I could feel him watching me.

I took the shirt away from his side and with as much cold detachment as I could muster, poured alcohol onto the wound from the bottle he’d readied on the floor. He held is breath and despite him trying to be as silent as possible, he groaned in pain. I tried to ignore that horrible noise as I started sewing up his wound. He muffled his groans by biting his lips and punching the cot next to him. I glanced up at his face and his eyes were screwed shut. My God, he looked….vulnerable.

When I was done I fished around the floor for something that looked almost clean to press to his side. I knelt there as his breathing returned to normal and I chanced my luck by letting my eyes wander a bit more from the wound. I took in his stomach, his face, his hands. But in particular, his arms. They looked solid. And at that moment I felt myself blush.

I pushed myself up to standing and looked anywhere but his face. I nodded at nothing in particular and basically ran out of the tent.

That night I came on my fingers to the thought of biting Micah Bell’s strong biceps as he hovered above me. Couldn’t look him in the eye since then. Well until Colter. Had much bigger fish to fry then.

I was brought back to the present when I felt a weight lean against my arm. In my distraction, Micah had moved to sit next to me. Shoulder to shoulder.

“Oooh I remember” he drawled, facing forward, “remember you scurrying away quick as lightening as well” he mused further. He smelled of whiskey and cigarettes. Nothing new for the people around here. But he smelt of something else. Something spicy. Woody? Is that a thing people can smell like?

“I uh, remember you not wanting help. So thought I’d spare you the embarrassment of small talk.” I replied not looking when he turned his face towards me. Leaning in close to my ear.

“Hmm well ain’t that kind”, he whispered and I’m so very proud of the fact that I could keep the shiver I felt from showing. What on earth was happening here.

I turned to face him. “Well I’m a kind person”, I smiled. He pulled back and looked at me like I was a puzzle. Like my face was covered in a maze he couldn’t find a way out from. And while he looked at me, clearly trying to work out his next move. I made mine.

“Well, goodnight Mr Bell,” I proceeded to get up from my spot on the floor. “Thank you for the drink and your lessons on empathy. Even though I will ignore it.” I nodded and before he could respond, I walked to my tent with my head held high. I undid the flaps without looking his way and once I was alone, I threw myself onto my cot.

What the fuck was that?

That night I came on my fingers to the thought of being Micah Bell breathing against my neck.

What the hell am I doing…

#rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fandom #micah bell #micah bell x fem oc #John Marston #Arthur Morgan #dutch van der linde #van der linde gang #fanfiction #rdr2 tag #red dead redemption 2 tag #rdr2 pc #rdr2 oc

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phobidawg · 5 years ago

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TLC Holiday Lunar Bake Off- Christmas Caking

Episode 2 of The Holiday Lunar Bake-Off, where the crew starts baking. Their first challenge, Christmas cakes! As expected, this leads to many funny mishaps and mistakes.

(Yes I promised to post these every week but I got lazy I’m sorry!)

Like the first, my apologizes for typos and grammar mistakes, I wrote this two years ago, and some of them I just didn’t bother to correct for “comedic effect” in my cringy young mind. I figured that this would provide some amusement in quarantine, and it does get funnier in later chapters (as my comedic understand develops.) Enjoy!

Iko: Welcome to Episode 2 of the Holiday Baking Championship, Christmas Caking! Contestants you may enter!

*there is some shouting backstage, a voice calls “No. I refuse to wear it.” and after a struggle, another voice saying “I don’t want to be here all day so get in single file or I swear on all the stars I will shoot you!”*

Kinney: Should I alert the Captain of the Guard? Maybe they should go deal with that… *he looks hopeful*

Iko: Aren’t you the Captain of the Guard?

Kinney: Yep.

Iko: *scowls at Kinney’s tactics, but there’s something adoring about it*

*Group files out of doors perfectly in order, with Scarlet in back, a hand on her waistband*

Iko: *looking super excited* OH MY STARS YOU GUYS LOOK SO CUTE!!! *squealing as she sees everyone wearing matching pink flowered aprons*

*kinney skillfully zooms in on Thorne wearing his pink apron, snickering*

Iko: *gushing* You all look wonderful! Oms! *fails to notice how badly the apron fits Wolf, or how awkward and broodingly mad at situation Jacin looks. Cress and Winter look at their aprons adoringly, whereas Cinder rolls her eyes at the pink. Scarlet is still wearing her red hoodie, so she’s fine, Thorne wears his proudly, and Kai keeps giving Cinder a nervous glance, hoping she doesn’t judge him.*

Iko: *getting over her love of the outfits* Our first challenge today is cake! Each person will have to make a cake including and starring a secret ingredient, and favorite among the holidays… *Tressa pushes a cart with a decorative cloth and a silver platter a top it*

Tressa: *quietly* Do you like the aprons?! I sewed them myself, and forced them into wearing it. *winks at Iko*

Iko: They’re perfect Tressa, as always! *secretive smile is shared*

Tressa: *lets go of tray in front of Iko before waving at camera* Hi Liam!

Kinney: *camera shakes violently as he waves back*

Tressa + Iko: Watch the camera!

Kinney: *muttering* a guy can’t get a break around here.

Tressa + Iko: *simultaneously again* shh!

Cinder: Iko, as you were saying before?

Iko: Oh yeah! Tressa could you do the honors?

Tressa: Really?! *super excited*

Iko: Oh course! *super dramatically* and the mystery ingredient is…

Tressa: *slowly and equally dramatically lifts top* Apples!

Iko: Yay! Thank you Tressa for your marvelous performance! *starts to applaud*

Wolf: *growls at apples threateningly*

Cinder and Scarlet: *give Wolf a glance before sharing a knowing look*

Winter: I love apples!

Jacin: *looking slightly worried* After Levana’s stunt I’m still wary about apples petites and apples in general…

Thorne: Oh, don’t be such a worrywort. *claps Jacin’s shoulder* There’s nothing wrong with the candy! That was one time! Apples themselves may be a bit questionable, but I eat the candy all the time and there’s nothin’ wrong with me. Ever since Winter introduced me, and Cress found a store in the middle of Utah that sold some, I’ve been eating non-stop, and I’m fine! Great even! *flexes arm* Ain’t that right Cress?

Cress: *blushing profusely*

Cinder: Which part? The candy or the part about you being fine? Because I think I know which one you’re correct about, and it’s not the one that involves you flexing shirtless in front of the Rampion mirrors every morning.

Thorne: *shrugs* What can I say? I have a great bod.

Cress: *blushing even redder*

Wolf: Cress are you okay? You look like you’re about to turn into a tomato!

Kai: You mean like that movie where the girl turns into a blueberry and gets to be rolled out of the factory?

Cinder: *surprised* You’ve watched Charlie and the Chocolate factory?

Kai: What! Being an only child in a huge palace can get boring.

Scarlet: You mean the one where the kid wins a ticket in a chocolate bar? I used to love that movie!

Winter: *singing* who can take a sunrise?

Sprinkle it in dew?

Cover it in chocolate,

And a miracle or two?

Scarlet, Winter, Cress, and Kai: The candyman,

The Candyman Can.

The Candyman can

‘cause he mixes it

with love and makes

the world taste good.

Cinder + Jacin: stooooooop

Cinder: You guys do realize that song is like literally 100+ years old? Talk about not being on top of pop culture.

Jacin: Hear, hear.

Cress: Um, you do realize I was stuck in a satellite for the last few years? I didn’t even learn how to use a microwave until yesterday.

Thorne: *looking proud* I showed her.

Cress: *giving him a look* Wait a moment. As I was saying, being on top of pop culture is the least of my worries. And I like this song!

Winter: What’s a microwave?

Wolf: Stole the words right out of my mouth.

Scarlet: Horrible devices that are ruining good home cooking.

Cinder: Oof. My life is a lie.

Wolf: Ew. Also Scar, could you teach me that song you were singing later? You sound beautiful when you sing it.

Scarlet: *smiling* Oh, we’re totally watching Willy Wonka later.

Cress: Slumber party with 2nd Era movies anyone?!

Iko: Count me in!

Cinder: *sighs* I guess I’m coming to then, I’ll dragged there whether I want to or not.

Winter: Yay! Dear Selene your going to love it. Can we watch Snow White and the Seven Dwarves from Disney as well?

Cress: I love Disney! Especially Tangled. I can totally relate relate to her hair struggles ;)

Thorne: I got the popcorn and candy!

Winter: Jacin?

Jacin: No way in spades am I watching a movie about a bunch of kids eating chocolate and singing.

Winter: *pretty pleading eyes* Pretty please? With a bow and sour apples petites on top?

Jacin: *averting eyes carefully* fiiiiine.

Kinney: This is fun and all, but aren’t we tapping a show? I sacrificed my netdramas to keep this thing plugged in all night!

Iko: Oh yeah! Anyway, what were we talking about?

Cinder: Apples.

Thorne: Huh?

Cinder: *annoyed* Apples!

Thorne: Is your battery running low again? Because I have no intention of opening your control panel ever again *shivers squeamishly*

Cinder: No! That’s the last thing we were talking about you dolt!

Thorne: Oh, that makes more sense. Thank goodness.

CInder: *rolls her eyes*

Thorne: *throws an arm around Cinder shoulders buddy-like* Oh, you know you love me. *rubs his knuckles in her hair*

Cinder: *groans* Get off me you oaf. *shoves his arm off and pulls now even messier ponytail higher*

Iko: Okay! So on three, everyone grab a bag of apples and… GO!

*Everyone except Wolf and Winter, who are still standing where they were*

Winter: Oh, are we starting? *giggles and twirls over to grab some apples*

Wolf: *angry* I refuse!

Scarlet: *coming over with her bag* Come on, it’s just a competition…

Wolf: No! I refuse to insult tomatoes in such a way! These upstart apples, what do they think they are… *glares at Scarlet’s bag angrily*

Scarlet: Calm down, it’s not that big a deal…

Wolf: *getting worked up* Not a big deal? Not a big deal! Apples are taking over! Everywhere you look, there’s apples! Apples pie, apple muffins, apple waffles… not tomatoes, never tomato pie, or tomato muffins!

Scarlet: *placing a hand on his shoulder* It’s okay, I’m sure you can work with apples this once…

Wolf: Work with the apples! Of course not! You know what, I’ll show them, I refuse to use the tomatoes. I absolutely won’t bend to the norm of today’s world! Tomatoes will always be #1, no matter what anyone else thinks. SO you know what? *not waiting for a response* I’m going to use tomatoes instead! See how they take that! *purposefully marches toward pantry*

Cinder: *coming over to meet Scarlet* What just happened?

Scarlet: *rolling her eyes, but there’s something loving about it* Stars only know! Now, we need to get started.

*the two walk over to their stations*

*screen follows Iko as she walks over to Kai, who is gathering supplies, his brow furrowed in concentration*

Iko: Watcha doin’ Kai?

Kai: *jumps, dropping supplies* Oh, um, *bending down to pick up dropped stuff*I was thinking of making apple crumble, something that I used to make with my mom when we were little.

Iko: Aw! Have you ever made these yourself before?

Kai: Uh, no? But I’m confident in my abilities. *puts on a fake confident smile*

Iko: You don’t seem confident. But that sounds amazing! Good luck, I have my money bet on you winning! *smiles flirtatiously*

Kai: *smiles gratefully, completely not noticing Iko’s flirting* Thanks Iko!

*camera follows Iko as she walks over to Cress*

Iko: Hey Cress! What are you working on?

Cress: Hi Iko! I’m working on apple cinnamon cookies with honey drizzle.

Iko: *surprised* Wow! That sounds really advanced!

Cress: I’ve never made it before, but I would watch baking shows in the satellite and read up on different pastries in my free time.

Iko: That sounds like a smart strategy. Well played Cress!

Cress: Well, I didn’t exactly know I was going to be on a baking show in the future, but thanks. Also, best of all, I’m going to be able to use my newfound microwave abilities!

Iko: Awesome! Good luck Cress!

*camera floats over to Thorne who’s next to Cress*

Thorne: Um, Cress?! I’m supposed to put 22 cups of flour in here, right? Or was it just 2… ?

Cress: *peeks over from her own cookie supplies, where she sees Thorne with a huge bowl of flour, flour spilling all over the edges. He is covered head-to-toe in white flour, and he looks like a ghost.* Oh, Captain. *she Smiles, pecks his flour-covered cheek, and starts to wipe of his face.*

Iko: *swooning, one hand on her heart, the other at her side* awww!!!

Kinney: Are we going to interview him or not?

Iko: Stars no! I’m not getting flour on my new dress! More importantly, I’m not interrupting my ship in action!

Kinney: *groans*

Iko: What if you take the camera around while I stay over here and fangirl?

Kinney: *grumbling but the camera slowly starts to move around room*

*zooms in on Jacin and Winter, who are working side by side*

Winter: I love Christmas!!! *throws green and red glitter in air, covering both her and Jacin*

Jacin: *ducking and covering head with arms* Ah! Cut that out! *smiling to himself, but trying to hide it*

Winter: Aw, come on, have a little fun! *smiles micheviously, and throws more glitter on Jacin, who now resembles a sparkly christmas tree ornament than a person*

Jacin: *scowling* uuuugh. *scowls down at his pink apron and the glitter, cringing majorly.* I have no words to describe how bad this is.

Winter: You look like Christmas dear Jacin. *humming to herself, she starts to pour sugar and flour into a bowl, but some sugar spills out* Oops! *giggles*

Jacin: *sighs affectionately* You really are nothing but Trouble.

Winter: Thank you. *starts to clean up sugar* This apple petite cake is going to be yummier than Scar’s macaroons!

Scarlet: *looking up from her work. Playfully competitive* Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that. My apples macaroons are going to blow everyone else’s desserts out of this galaxy.

Winter: What about you Jacin? How is your dessert going to compare?

Jacin: I don’t know, they haven’t been judged yet.

*camera leaves and travels over to Wolf, who has a workplace ahead of him filled with nothing but tomatoes*

Wolf: *has five plates for all of the judges ahead of him. On each of the plates, there is one chopped tomato, one smashed tomato, and a plain tomato.*

Wolf: Perfect. Yum. *reaches to each a little bit of smashed tomato, but stops himself* No, it’s for the judges. ;(

Wolf: *goes over to blender with tomato in hand*

Kinney: Ewww *moves away to Cinder’s station*

Cinder: *tries to wipe a bit of apple of her cheek, but only spreads it more* Kai, pass me the vanilla extract.

Kai: What’s the magic word?

Cinder: *groaning* pleeeaase.

Kai: *tosses her a small bottle, and notices the apple on her face with a small smile, before turning back to his stuff*

Cinder: Hey Kinney.

Kinney: SHh! I’m not here… *waggles fingers in Cinder’s face mock mysteriously*

Cinder: *smirking* Hello Not Here.

Kinney: Just no. *leaves Cinder’s station to stick camera in Kai’s face*

Kai: *leans back a bit* Um hello?

Kinney: *no response, put finger to his lips*

Kai: *nods* Okay. *turns back to his work*

*camera zooms in on the bowl with sugar covered caramelized apples*

Kinney: *camera shakes a bit as he nods, impressed*

*suddenly, camera slips and falls into bowl of apples*

Kai: *off-screen* AH NOT MY APPLES!

Iko: *off-screen* AAH KINNEY NOT THE CAMERA!

Kinney: *off-screen* oops.

*everything comes back into view as Kinney picks up camera, but everything in blurry because of the carmel sauce on the lens*

Iko: *coming really close the screen to inspect it* Ugh. It’s going to need a new lens. Kinney!!!!!!

Iko: *over her shoulders* FIFTEEN MINUTES BAKERS! *to camera* Okay, so we’re going to get a new lens, so until next time, Happy Holidays, and please like, repost, share, and stay tuned for next time, where we’ll see who wins Challenge One, Christmas Caking! Love you! <3 ;P

#ik this one's a bit short #so I post the next soon!#I can feel my reputation declining by the second #lunar chronicles fanfic #tlc fanfic #tlc holiday lunar bake-off #linh cinder #scarlet benoit #the lunar chronicles #cress darnel #carswell thorne #my fanfic #my fic #kill me

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unofficialkfamtranscripts · 5 years ago

Text

King Falls AM - Episode Four: Wolves Gone Wild

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Summary: June 15, 2015 - With Sammy & Ben in contention over a forced apology regarding the Bass Tournament, a full moon causes all hell to break loose on the outskirts of King Falls.

[Podcast intro music]

[KFAM rock intro music]

Ben Top of the hour here on King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the AM dial. And we’re live here on this crisp, King Falls evening. It’s a full moon, and you know what that means, so be careful out there. It’s four AM, on the dot, and as per instructed by Merv, the station manager, who we will be—

Sammy [agitated] You’re really gonna play that.

Ben [sarcastically] Oh look who’s talking again, everybody! Sammy Stevens, ladies and gents.

Sammy Very funny, Ben. You know, we’ve played this apology enough. let’s just get back on track, how ‘bout it?

Ben Gotta do it.

[radio static as recording begins]

Sammy Hello, this is Sammy Stevens and I’m sitting here with Ben Arnold, your co-host of King Falls AM.

[record scratch]

Sammy No! We aren’t doing this, Ben.

Ben Sammy! I’m gonna have to file a report if we don’t play this apology at the top of every hour.

Sammy Write it up!

Ben I don’t want to!

Sammy Then don’t.

Ben Sammy— can we talk about this? Folks, uh, we’re just gonna take a quick break for—

Sammy No break, no apology, you wanna play that tape?

Ben No, but we have to!

Sammy Fine. You know what? We’ll do this one live, kids, and *angry laugh/huff* boy are you in for a treat.

Ben I don’t know, I—

Sammy [mildly outraged] So there’s a note, on the board, when we came in. We’re to record an apology to you, the dear listeners and residents of King Falls—

Ben Merv simply asked that we apologize for… creating a controversy at the 55th annual—

Sammy We talk about the news here. Relevant subjects that affect this town. What we don’t do- *angry laughing* What we would never do, is apologize for trying to cover a breaking news story! A dead body at a public event that King Falls AM is covering is News.

Ben Maybe Mayor Grisham went a little overboard kicking us out- I’m not saying he didn’t, but—

Sammy [outrage continues] If I owned this station! If I owned the station? I’d go after him. I mean, why isn’t Merv mad at Grisham. Why is this on us? [softer] Have you even met Merv, Ben?

Ben Yes— I mean… not in person, but— Look, we have a show to keep on track: in a few minutes we’ll be speaking with both of the winners of the 55th annual Bass Tournament—

Sammy How ‘bout this. How ‘bout we open up the phone lines and talk about how the good Mayor Grisham is strongarming the media—

[static]

Announcer This Sunday evening, at 7PM, we say goodbye to longtime host of King Falls Sewing Corner, Esther Rollens, the way she would’ve wanted us to.

Esther [old, wavering voice] Talkin’ about life, talkin’ about love, and crochetin’ a mean doily while we’re at it!

Announcer While we will all miss Esther’s sweet stitchery tips and needlepoint mastery, we’ll miss Esther even more.

Esther We’ll darn your socks, and maybe even darn your men to heck, while we’re at it.

Announcer We’ll reminisce and play clips from Sewing Corner’s illustrious twenty-four year run. As well as a live music tribute from Esther’s favourite band.

[heavy metal music] ♪WAKE UP. YOU’LL SEE.♪

Esther Ohh, I just love these boys! All possible states. [heavy metal music fades out] Always remember: bad times never last. But badasses certainly do! We’ll see you soon, King Falls!

Announcer Hopefully not too soon, Esther. 7PM, this Sunday. Help us say goodbye to King Falls’ most bitchin’ granny.

[heavy metal music resumes] ♪*SCREAMING* I WILL NEVER REESST. UNTIL I WALK IN THE SUNSET. BURN ME UP IN FLAAMES.♪

[heavy metal fades out]

Ben I didn’t cut you off, Sammy!

Sammy Real mature, Ben.

Ben You were looking right at me, I didn’t even touch the board! And you know Esther Rollens was slated for 4:32 AM! I’d never.

Sammy [sarcastically] Oh, oh, okay, it must’ve been General Abilene, right?

Ben You know he’s in Sweetzer Fore- Sheesh. Can’t you just take some calls? You’re killing me. Line 6!

Cecil Sheffield [Cecil’s voice is old and slurred] Benjamin Arnold! Mr. Sheffield here! Why’re you on- the radio?

Ben [muttered] Crap. Bass Tournament winners were scheduled for two minutes ago. I-I’m gonna call the other—

Sammy Oh! So we can talk about the tournament, we just can’t talk about the dead body.

Ben Sammy.

Sammy Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. Cecil Sheffield to the show, uh, co-winner of the 55th annual King Falls Bass Tourney.

Ben It’s great to have you. Mr. Sheffield.

Cecil It’ss good to be taalkin’ to you fellas too! Benn, how’re yer grades holdin’ up this year?

Ben Uhh, I- *confused laugh* I- I graduated uh- already. Sev-several years ago—

Cecil No more late papers thiss semester, Mr. Arrnold.

Sammy Yeah, Ben! No more late papers!

Ben *deep breath* For those of you who don’t know: Mr. Sheffield was my history teacher at King Falls High School. [embarrassed and tense] Shouldn’t he be retired by now?

Cecil [singing] ♫Riiiiiising miidst the goooolden orrrange, graaandly iiin tooo th— bluuuee, reeeeeaches our dear aaaaalma maater—♫

Sammy *clapping sarcastically* There ya have it folks! Mr. Cecil Sheffield, winner of this year’s King Falls Idol.

Cecil Go Faaallls! I rreally lovve talkin’ t’ you guuys.

Ben [awkwardly] And we… love talking to you.

Sammy How ‘bout we talk about the big win at the tournament, huh? You split the grand prize, $500 and a bass boat, is that correct?

Cecil Ohh it was awwesome. Staandin’ up there at the podium with ma’ good friend Herrschel! I’m happy t’ shaare the prriize wi’ such a great man! I haven’ gotten a channce to uuse the new booat- uhh… yet—

Ben Aaand, we’ve got Herschel Baumgartner!

Sammy Sorry to cut you off, Cecil. Herschel, you’re live on King Fal-

Herschel [angry as always] You usurpin’, unsportsmanlike, son of a b[bleep]h filth! I know all you were colludin’ against me this year. It’s a conspiracy!

Sammy I’m sorry, what now, Mr. Baumgartner?

Herschel You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about, Big City.

Ben We actually don’t, Mr. Baumgartner.

Herschel Don’t mouth off to me, you conspirin’ little bag of d[bleep]ks!

Sammy Hey! Hey, hey, Herschel! No one is conspiring against anybody here! You should be happy right now, this is what, your fourth time winning the tournament? Granted, let’s be honest, a cadaver should probably give this one an asterisk.

Ben [eagerly] 1989,1992, and now back-to-back titles in 2014 and 2015. You’re the first ever to have four titles!

Herschel [hesitantly] W-wellll, when you put it like that, I guess. I never thought o’ it that way. I was just so red-faced about someone pokin’ a hole in the bottom of my boat right after I caught my last fish. Old Cecil wouldn’t’ve come close if some boobstain hadn’t’a messed with my damn boat!

Ben Kingsie got ya!

Herschel [mocking] It wasn’t Kingsie; that serpenty little b[bleep]h!

Cecil Iss that Herrschel? Hooww ya doin’ buddy? I’miss ya. Why dontcha answer when I calll?

Herschel [back to angry] Cecil! You cheatin’ dog pecker! I’d know-what-it was you who sunk my battleship! You couldn’t stand to have me win all by myself this year you limp-d[bleep]ked drunkard!

Ben Ooh-[worried]Haah! We’re gonna have to ask you. to watch your language. Mr. Baumgartner.

Herschel Now you listen here, you motherf[bleep]—

[dial tone]

Sammy Hello?

Ben Sorry Sammy. Merv’s already not happy, let’s not have the FCC[1]join him?

Sammy You know, you’re gettin’ real good with that dump button trigger finger tonight, Ben.

Ben I told you I didn’t dump you! Herschel, yes, but not you.

Sammy Y- *huff/laugh* You were so right about this full moon tonight, Ben.

Ben [mumbled] This is a nightmare.

Sammy [seriously] Hey. I’m sorry. Okay? I shouldn’t have gotten so fired up.

Ben You and Herschel both- You know how hard I work on this schedule? Don’t… puppy dog eye me, Sammy.

Sammy Hey, I’m just tryin’ to ice this apology cake, buddy.

Ben … 6:20, you buy me a stack of pancakes, at Rose’s Diner, and… we’ll call it even.

Sammy Sounds like a plan. So you’ve heard our story King Falls, now let’s hear—

Ben Good grief, we’ve got line 2, he’s in a panic.

Sammy Aren’t we all? You’re on the air with Sammy and Ben, what can we—

Line 2 [overly dramatic] No time for pleasantries- I need the law!

[small dogs barking in bg throughout call]

Ben Sir, uh, 911 is probably your best bet.

Sammy Or maybe tweet Troy and hashtag “KingFalls911” [half-muttered] I dunno.

Line 2 You silly Sallys. I’ve already called, the deputy is on the way. But I’m havin’ a terrible night, and I don’t appreciate the two of you makin’ it worse!

Ben Wait, is this- Archie Simmons?

Archie [sing-song] The one and onlyy.

Ben Is there something wrong out at the Pomchi Palace?

Sammy Pomchi? What the hell is a “pomchi”?

Archie Oh my gawd, read a book Sammy.

Ben It’s a dog— breed, half pomeranian, half chihuahua.

Sammy Oh! So Archie’s a professional dog breeder.

Archie Best bitches in the tri-state area!

Ben [flatly] That’s their motto.

Archie [softly aside, cooing] That’s a good baby, Daddy loves you! What’s that? That angry, mean werewolf violated you? Don’t you worry, Daddy will make. him. pay.

Sammy Did he just say “werewolf?”

Archie You betchyer bottom dollar I did!

Sammy Ben, I- I can’t.

Ben T-tell us what’s going on, Archie.

Archie Well, I live offa Route-72, damn near out of town. It’s usually nice and quiet [muttering](except for those damn trashy rednecks in their trailer park every damn Saturday night!)

Ben Buuut, tonight, it’s not nice and quiet?

Archie Hell no! I woke up to the most godawful squawlin’. I mean it sounded like a freight train hit a barrel a’ screamin’ billygoats. Half a step below a damn eight f[bleep] bottle rocket.

Ben That is vivid!

Sammy [being a smart-aleck] Dare I say, was it a half-man, half-wolf?

Ben [unimpressed] Good job, Sammy.

Sammy [quietly] Please don’t encourage this.

Archie It was so terrible a noise, I thought I might’a dreamed it. But then I heard it again!

Sammy Go on.

Archie So I threw on my slippers, and I went runnin’ towards the back of the house— an’ I’m scared, because I just paid— well, I paid a bundle for a couple’a these new pomchi bitches? So I’m worried that maybe Rufus (that’s my labradoodle)—

Sammy Labradoodl—?

Ben [quickly] Labrador-poodle mix.

Archie Damnit, Google it fellas and keep up. I’m worried that Rufus is maybe snuck in the backyard and roughed up the new pomchis? So I rushed toward the back and Rufus is in the Florida Room— just a-growlin’ mind you— so it wasn’t him. So I burst open the back door, and what do I see??

Ben What-ahh… wh-wh-what did you see?

Archie [increasingly distressed I see a half-man, half-dog, bent over hunchin’ the hell out of my twenty-four-hundred-dollar Princess Von Barktooth!

Ben Not Princess Von Barktooth!

Sammy Okay, so you run outside in your slippers, and you see some skeezy pervert, and he’s got your dog—

Archie In the biblical sense! But the maaan was A. Werewolf.

Sammy Are we really talkin’ about wolf-man werewolves, here? *laughs* I’m sorry Ben—

Archie You shouldn’ be sorryin’ to Beeen! He’s not the one who’s been sodomized by a damn man-wolf! And now I gotta stay up all night watchin’ the princess and dealin’ with the law! Lord knows I’m worried that this leads to long term emotional distress, or, worse. [distraught] An’ we can just throw out winnin’ the Westminster trophy!![2] That was not in our five year plAN!!!

Ben I have to. What- Was the five year plan?

Archie [soft and rushed] Princess Von Barktooth was supposed to fall in love with another purebred pomchi, who sweeps her off her feet, holds open all the doggy doors for her, shares all his treats. *giggles* [to the dog] Isn’t that right lil princess?

Sammy [derisively] This is just silly. I mean it was obviously just a creep with serious issues, not a mythical—

Archie Are you callin’ me a liar? I saw that abomination with my own two baby blues.

Ben S-Sammy likes to look at these paranormal events from all angles, Archie.

Archie Well the angle that I saw it at was a G-D crime against humanity and dogmanity alike! The beast man looked at me, evil in his eyes, and desire in his heart, tossed my princess like a ragdoll, howled at the moon like the wretched demon that he is and scampered off!!

Ben Ar-Archie have- have you had issues with the werewolves before?

Archie Oh-my-gosh, who hasn’t? Ol’ Dylan hillbilly Baxter used to pepper buckshot those chicken-thievin’ shapeshiftin’ sons-of-bitches!

Sammy Brass tacks[3] here; Is Princess Von Barktooth okay?

Archie Needless to saayy, we are more than a bit shaken by this turn of events.

Sammy Have you looked into silver bullets? eBay? Amazon Prime?

Archie You come out here the next full moon you sassy Sally and I’ll show you more werewolves than you can shake a d[bleep]k at… Aw, I just heard Deputy Troy pull up, I gotta go, boys. [click]

[dial tone]

Ben Th-thanks for letting all of us know that there’s been some activity on the wolf front, Archie.

Sam This is just too much. Look, stay safe, Archie, listening public. I’m not saying that there’s werewolves on the loose—

Ben There are.

Sammy *laugh/huff* Ben. Everyone stay safe. There’s definitely something in the air tonight.

Ben Oh no. Sammy *heavy breath* Can you take Line One?

Sammy Do I even want to ask?

Finn [panicked] Sammy?! Ben?! It’s bad! It’s real bad, y’ know?!

Sammy Are you alright, Finn?

Finn [still strained and panicked] I-I didn’t.. even see him comin’! Musta run head-long through the truck on my blind side!

Sammy Who did? What’s going on?

Ben Finn hit a dog, off Route 72.

Sammy You’re f[bleep]king kidding.

Finn [distraught, almost crying] This poor little guy! I feel so bad, y’know? [less scared, more nervous] Actually. He’s not that little.

Ben Finn, are you still in your truck?

Finn Oh yeah, but I stopped it when I hit the fella… I’ma shakin’ somethin’ awful here.

Sammy [“not” worried] I think you should start the truck up, and just keep on movin’.

Finn … I think he’s still alive! I’m goin’ out to do the right thing an’ check this out, Sammy.

Ben Sammy’s right. Keep—

Finn I’m outside the truck! Headin’ back towards the pooch!

Sammy Get back in the truck, Finn! [quietly aside] Uh, you know, because it could be a- a coyote or something, n-not a were- you know.

Finn Oh my. This poor fella don’t look too good. This looks— Whoa now!

Ben Move your maple lovin’ ass, Finn!

Finn It’s two-leg runnin’ at me boys! What the f[bleep]k!

Sammy Finn? Finn?!

[sounds of a struggle, garbled words, then howling]

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] FCC - The Federal Communications Commission is an independent agency of the United States government that regulates communications by radio, television, wire, satellite, and cable across the United States.

[2] Westminster trophy - The Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show is an all-breed conformation show that has been hosted in New York City annually since 1877.

[3] Brass tacks - n. details of immediate practical importance —usually used in the phrase “get down to brass tacks”

#king falls am #king falls #kfam #sammy stevens #ben arnold #kfam transcripts #kfam ep4 #cecil sheffield #archie simmons #finn the truck driver #herschel baumgartner

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papa-rhys · 6 years ago

Text

Long-Awaited (Javier X Reader)

Note: Oh my god I was finally able to write something after weeks of writers block, thank Christ for that, hallelujah. Have some cute “will-they-won’t-they” with Javier (except we know they will cause it’s fanfic). Enjoy!

Category: Fluff + sexual tension

Warnings: None!

Word count: 2615

You get out of bed and hobble over to Pearson’s table, following the sound of his whistling that breaks up the silence of the seemingly desolate camp. As you reach his wagon and stand underneath the canvas that shelters it, you find black clouds creeping in from the edges of your vision and you prop yourself up against the table that he chops up meat on as you wobble and sway.

“Are you alright?” he asks. You can no longer see, even though your eyes are open, but you feel his hand on your shoulder as he guides you toward a crate and helps you take a seat on it.

“I’m fine,” you tell him as your vision begins to clear and the fog in your head dissipates. “I just got up too fast. Still recovering from the blood loss, I guess.”

You look down at your leg; all bandaged up to the nines with rags that’re stained with dry blood and secured into place with string. The bullet had cut a path straight through your thigh, narrowly missing all the important parts that make up a person’s leg and going straight out the back again like a freight train through a tunnel. You adjust the bloody rag, pulling it up your thigh slightly and smoothing it out.

“How’s the leg?” Pearson asks, moving back around the table to continue chopping the meat for tonight's stew.

“It’s not too bad. It hurts like a bitch still, but I’m okay walking with my stick and I can hobble along without it if it’s a short distance so I’m doin’ alright.”

“You gave us quite the scare,” he says, sliding the chopped up meat off the table and into the pot before working on the next slab. “I know Javier was particularly worried.”

“Well, there’s no need. I’ve survived this long; it’d take more than a bullet to the leg to put me in the ground.”

“Well, if you’re looking for something to do, I could always use some help preparing the food,” he smiles.

“Sure.” You take a look around the camp. It’s almost noon, but the place seems a lot emptier than it usually is at this time. The girls are off in one corner – sewing and doing laundry – and there are a few people pottering around and smoking by the fire. But other than that, the place is like a ghost town and there’s no conversations to be heard, even in the distance. You turn your gaze back to Pearson. “Where is everyone?” you ask.

“Dutch took the boys out to that farmhouse up North,” Javier’s voice calls in response. You turn your head to find him approaching you and Pearson from the other side of the wagon; an unlit cigarette between his lips and a match between his fingers.

“The farmhouse past that big lake? The one with roses around the door?”

Javier nods silently, lifting his foot up and striking the match against his boot before lighting his cigarette and tossing the match away.

“Awh, what?” you give a disappointed sigh. “I wanted in on that job. Dutch said I could come with.”

“I guess that’s what you get when you try and rob a town sheriff and get shot for the trouble,” Javier smiles. “Dutch wanted to hit the farmhouse as soon as possible. Money waits for no man.”

“Time,” you correct him with a cheeky smile. “It’s time waits for no man.”

“Time. Money. They’re the same thing in this line of work,” he shrugs, offering you a drag of his cigarette. You take the cigarette between your fingers and take a long inhale, letting the smoke sit for a few moments before gently blowing it back out into the air and handing the cigarette back to Javier. “I’m going into town later,” he says. “You can tag along if you’re feeling up to it.”

“God, yes please. I’m goin’ insane with boredom being stuck here day in day out. I’ll bring my old man walking stick.”

“Don’t worry about your leg. It’s only a few drinks in the saloon in Valentine; nothing too out of control.”

“I’ve seen you after a few drinks, Mr Escuella, and outta control is exactly what you are.”

Javier chuckles and finishes off his cigarette, dropping it to the floor and smushing it with the toe of his boot. “Alright, you got me there,” he grins. “But I promise I’ll take it easy if you come with me. No bar fights while you’re around. I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

He crosses his heart and you smile sweetly. “Sure. Drop by my tent whenever you’re ready and we’ll head out.” The two of you gaze at each other for a few moments before you break eye contact and glance down at your feet.

“As heartwarming this conversation is to witness, if you two lovebirds are finished, I’m gonna need Y/N’s help choppin’ those carrots over there.”

You clear your throat and watch as Javier becomes sheepish and pulls back from the conversation a little. You shake your head. “We’re just –“

“Just friends,” Pearson interjects. “Right. We’ve all heard that a thousand times. Now, can you please do less flirting and more helping?”

You open your mouth to say something, but immediately swallow your words; speechless after being called out in such a way. “Duty calls, I guess,” you mutter, rolling your eyes and readying the chopping board.

“I’ll see you later,” Javier says with a shy smile, stepping backwards a few paces until he turns and walks away.

“Knock, knock,” Javier says, approaching your tent from behind you as you balance on your good leg and attempt to tug a fresh pair of jeans on over your injured on. “You need a hand there?” he asks as your weight falls onto your injured leg in an effort to avoid you falling over.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the seething pain that burns its way through your thigh. Your muttered obscenities merge into laughter. “Yes, please.”

Javier moves into actions, stepping towards you and gently spinning you around to face him; holding you steady when you wobble. You hold onto his shoulders for balance as he bends down to grab hold of the waistband of your jeans, that now rest on the floor at your ankles since you dropped them.

“I bet this isn’t quite what you had in mind when you offered to take me out, huh?” you joke as he pulls your jeans up carefully over your injury. You haven’t been able to change your jeans since the bullet hit you and it feels good to finally get out of the bloody pair that Susan had bandaged over the top of.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about helping you put your clothes on, if that’s what you mean,” Javier smiles. “I figured it might be the other way around if I’m lucky.”

You give him a light, playful hit to the chest and Javier laughs as he fastens the buttons of your jeans just below your navel. You look up at him and watch the concentration on his face as he tucks the bottom of your shirt into the front of your pants; then leaning in close and reaching his arms around you to stuff the fabric in at the back. He pulls back and catches you looking at him; his smile fading into a bite of his inner lip as his eyes wander your face. You delicately place your hands on his upper arms as his hands linger on your hips for a brief second and he swallows before slowly moving in to kiss you.

Before his lips get the chance to touch yours, however, the two of you are painfully interrupted by Pearson’s voice echoing throughout the camp. “Mr Escuella, sir? Are you still here?” he calls, prompting Javier to hang his head and sigh before pulling away and stepping outside of the tent.

“I’m here, Pearson,” he sighs, catching Pearson’s attention as the man passes the tent.

“Oh good, you haven’t left yet. I have a favour to ask of you.”

You leave the darkness of the tent and join Javier and Pearson in the afternoon light outside as Pearson hands Javier a list of what you assume to be groceries and other boring, mundane things that Pearson’s life is consumed by. “I don’t need the best; just as long as it’s edible,” he says.

You think about making a wisecrack at his stew and how he’s never seemed concerned with making it edible before now, but before the thought has been refined in your mind, he’s gone, and Javier has turned to face you again.

“Okay, let’s go,” Javier smiles, tucking the folded up list inside his jacket.

You sit with Javier at a table in the corner of the Valentine saloon – where you’ve been sat for most of the evening – watching two men brawl in front of the bar as the bartender waves his rag at them, yelling for them to take it outside.

The two of you are tipsy. Well, alright, drunk. But at least you’re on the good side of drunk where you’re still capable of doing grown-up things such as remembering your own name or speaking a known human language. You both watch the fight play out until one man bounces the other’s head off the corner of the bar and promptly wins – his prize being a boot up the ass as he’s kicked out of the saloon, of course. The bartender insists that everyone forgets about it and gets on with their business, and being the drunken fools that you all are, you all do just that; opting to ignore the probably dead man that lays in front of the bar and instead focusing your attention on your glasses of whiskey.

“I didn’t think it’d be this busy,” Javier states, leaning across the table so you can hear him better. “I mean, it’s only a small town.”

“Small towns sell cheap liquor,” you shrug, downing your shot and rising to your feet to go get another one.

“Here.” Javier gets up fast – grabbing his glass and throwing his chair back in the process – and instantly offers his arm for you to hold onto for support. You accept the gesture, placing your hand on his arm and walking with him to the bar. You wince as you get to the bar, having stepped on your leg a little too heavily and sent the all-too-familiar pain rushing through your leg again. “How’re you doing?” Javier asks, picking up on how tightly you’re gripping his arm.

“I’m fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “I just walked on it funny. Christ, I thought whiskey was supposed to be good at numbing pain.”

“Yeah, mostly emotional pain,” Javier chuckles, leaning on the bar and waiting for the bartender to come over. “We can go home if you want to?”

“Back to the empty camp with nothing to do but listen to Pearson drone an about the ocean? No fucking thank you.”

“Alright, point taken.” Javier nods and raises his glass at the bartender who fills the glass with enough whiskey to drown a sailor in. “Hey listen,” he starts, taking a sip. “I uh… I wanted to say it this afternoon, but Pearson interrupted us and –“ Another fight breaks out behind the pair of you and you struggle to stay focused on what he’s saying as the three men inch closer to you in your peripheral as he speaks. Javier catches sight of the men and leans closer, fighting to be heard over the commotion. “I didn’t get the chance to say what I wanted to say,” he yells. “I just –“

The brawling men barrel into the back of Javier, sending his whiskey sloshing all over the bar in front of him and he turns around and carefully pushes them away. Rolling your eyes damn near into the back of last week, you grab hold of Javier’s jacket and pull him towards the saloon door – hoping that outside will be quiet enough for him to talk properly – but as you approach the door, a pair of hands curl around your waist and spin you around and you're suddenly faced with Javier again. In all the noise and unrest that the saloon has been thrown into, you don’t hear the words that he mutters; only see them as they pass his lips. “Fuck it,” he says.

Despite him moving in so suddenly, you’re already expecting it and by the time his lips are pressed to yours, you’ve already thrown your arms around his neck and you move with him as he pins you back against the wall next to the saloon door.

The kiss is heavy and passionate and very long-awaited, and the two of you are about a second away from tearing each other’s clothes off right here as the three men continue to fight across the floor in the background. Javier’s hands slide from your waist and find themselves halfway up the curve of your back as he pulls you closer and closer until there’s not a single molecule of air between the two of you.

You break the kiss and let him leave little pecks down the side of your mouth, trailing along your jaw and over the soft patch of skin just underneath your earlobe. “They have a room available for rent in this place, right?” you ask him; your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper the words breathlessly.

Javier comes up for air and looks at you adoringly – his eyes glimmering with excitement and his mouth creeping up into a wide smile. “Yeah,” he nods. “1 dollar for the night. It’s upstairs.”

“You got a dollar on you?”

“I got several.” He looks at you for a moment before taking you by the hand and heading back towards the bar with you limping after him. “Can we get the room upstairs for the night?” he asks the bartender.

The man drags his gaze away from the fight and looks Javier up and down before his attention is caught by the handful of coins that Javier places on the surface of the bar. “It’s upstairs to the left,” he tells him.

Javier nods as the bartender takes the money and returns to the fight and with one fluid and effortless motion, Javier scoops your legs from underneath you and lifts you up, bridal style; carrying you up the stairs towards the rented room.

He kicks the door open and carries you inside, the pair of you giggling like teenagers as he does so. He sets you down inside the dimly-lit room, lowering you down gently as he kisses you until your feet are touching the floor. Dragging himself away from the kiss for just a moment, he doubles back to close the door – making sure to lock it tightly – before finding his way back to you and using your hips to pull you into him again.

“I didn’t get to tell you what I was gonna say before,” he says between kisses.

“Oh my bad,” you smile, unbuttoning his waistcoat as he gazes lustfully at the way your finger work at the buttons. “Go ahead.”

“I was gonna say that I really like you,” he smirks.

You feign a surprised look. “Well, darn!” you gasp. “I never woulda guessed it!”

“Ay, okay, okay,” Javier smiles, curling his fingers around the side of your neck and kissing you softly.

You break away from the kiss again, pulling back and prompting Javier to chase after you with a smile on his face and his eyelids hanging heavy with lust. “Why don’t you show me just how much you like me, Mr Escuella?” you tease, gripping onto the collar of his shirt and pulling him down onto the bed with you.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #my writing #writing: javier escuella

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mikarashis · 5 years ago

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Shooting Star Festival - Chapter Nine

Launch! The Night Sky of the Shooting Star Festival - Chapter Nine

Season: Summer

Location:Handicrafts Clubroom

Mika: Oshi-sa~n; look, look! This costume fer the ‘Shootin’ Star Fes’, doesn’t it look good?

Shu: don’t bother asking such obvious questions. The outfits were finished perfectly, so in that case, even an imbecile would look good wearing them.

Mika: I see, ‘m real happy that y’ think I look good~ ♪

Shu: were you even listening? As far as I recall, I didn’t say anything like that. Really, there was no need for you to try it on, but since you kept insisting that ‘I wanna wear a costume made by Oshi-san!’ I relented and allowed it.

But you’re a careless boy, so the chances of you getting it snagged somewhere are high. Even though I’m certain it’s comfortable, please take it off quickly.

Mademoiselle: [Shu-kun, Shu-kun, it seems we have a guest?]

Shu: guest? They must be touched in the head to come visit at such a time, especially with the ‘Shooting Star Festival’ happening tomorrow. But still, that doesn’t mean they can hover in the doorway.

Mademoiselle: [ahaha, Shu-kun might say that, but please don’t hesitate to come in. Anzu-chan, have you come to play again?

You’re asking if Shu-kun is very busy? There is certainly a lot to do today, but if you speak to him, he’ll still answer you ♪

Hmm? You weren’t looking for Shu-kun, but for me? That makes me happy. So, what did you wish to ask? Ah, but it would be much nicer to take some tea and relax instead of standing here talking ♪]

Mika: na, I c’n handle that if ya wanna sit down, Mado-nee. Hmm, d’ya want some tea, too, Anzu-chan? The tea should always be the opposite of the temperature, so since it’s hot in the summer, then really, cold tea’s the best!

B-but ‘m not bein’ nice fer yer sake. Since I’m doin’ this fer Mado-nee, I guess it can’t be helped that I’m welcomin’ you, too?

Mademoiselle: [ahaha, Mika-cha~n, be careful not to break the glasses. By the way, is this a conversation that should stay between us girls? Should they give us privacy?

I see, you’re saying that it’s fine for the two of them to listen. Besides, if we were having a little girls talk, Shu-kun might feel left out ♪

I mean...I was wondering this since you came in, but is that a yukata you’re holding? You made it together with Kuro-kun?

Did you hear, Shu-kun? Anzu-chan made this yukata for you.�� Here, here - don’t you think you should thank her?]

Shu: you’re meddling too much. I fear ulterior motives when accepting any sort of favour.

Mademoiselle: [don’t think such things, Shu-kun. Do you really believe that Anzu-chan would do something like that?]

Shu: of course not. Please accept my apology.

...well, it does seem as if you sewed these specifically for us, so whether we end up wearing them or not: thank you.

#event: shooting star fes #aoi translates

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alltheimaginationofme · 6 years ago

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A Different Kind Of Glasgow Kiss- Drew McIntyre

Lil’ bit of Drew loving, not requested but oh so needed!

Tags: @blondekel77 @calwitch @chanelxberlinstark @briqueenofthenorth @fioportella @wrestlingfae @whocares006 @dancefaeirie @ramsaypants @alibob687 @lunarchaosqueen @keepyourdreamsalive @meremaidqueen @demonqueen29

WARNING SMUT AHEAD

P.S: Let me know how I did with it!

Dolph was a pain in the ass. He couldn’t ever keep his hands to himself or his nose out of other people’s business. Since his return, he’d been nothing but trouble for everyone backstage, but he apparently took a liking to me in particular. I think because I didn’t take his shit without giving some back made it a challenge to him.

But where I’m from, you don’t back down.

“Hey sweetness, wanna go for a drink? Or should I say shall we go for a tea break?” Dolph swung himself onto the nearest crate that I was folding clothes on and I rolled my eyes at his attempt at an English dig. Another annoying aspect of Dolph was his relentlessness. Now he KNEW he could get a rise out of me- he never stopped until he did. I collected the pile of clothes and ignored him, turning to another stack that needed my attention. “Comeon babygirl, you don’t need a big red bus- I’ll give you a tour of me for free.” He cackled at his own joke and I cringed, it only ever seemed to be London jokes with him. Dolph jumped from his crate and into the seat that I was going to put clothes in. “You can’t hold out on me forever, I know you. Maybe I should ask my Scottish friend for tips?” He wriggled his eyebrows at me and I sighed.

“Perhaps I should ask your Scottish babysitter to come pick you up, we all know you get annoying when you drink too much Mountain Dew” Dolph grinned in triumph at me and I frowned, I usually lasted longer than that against him. It was whenever he brought up the skulking Scotsman I always tried to end the conversation early. There was something about Drew that I couldn’t shake, he was like kryptonite to me. Obviously the large man was insanely attractive, but whenever he was around me I just seemed to freeze.

I grunted at Dolph’s grinning face “Get outta here Ziggler, some of us have work to do.” Dolph got right up in my space and murmured “And some of us wish that work was on a rather large and heavily accented man.” His face was close to mine, and the temptation to head-butt him was astounding. If I did that, I would lose my job and the game would be up- no doubt Dolph would make a public scene to further add to my discomfort. So I played him at his own game.

“Actually Dolph, I was rather hoping for someone smaller, blonde, shit eating grin… And definitely can’t tell the difference between Dorito orange and sunkissed tan.” I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed past him, laughing as he spluttered for a comeback.

Apparently, Dolph would get his revenge a week later in the form of a wardrobe malfunction. When I arrived to his call I was beyond shocked to learn it wasn’t Ziggler with the problem- it was his partner. My eyes widened when Drew held out his trunks to me and looked almost apologetic. I narrowed my eyes at the trunks, the split was too clean to be wear-and-tear. Dolph snickered in the corner and I sighed, of course he would cut the trunks. “No problem McIntyre, give me 10 minutes tops.” I took the clothing and turned from the room, not giving either man a chance to speak. Dolph would only anger me, and Drew would only make walking away more difficult.

I sat at the sewing station about 3 minutes later and was beginning the repairs on the trunks when someone walked up behind me. It could honestly be anyone in this department, but when I felt someone leaning over my shoulder I bristled. “Repairs for Drew McIntyre.” I didn’t look up from my work and the person was still there when they spoke “Aye love, I came ta see how ya were doin”

I froze. Luckily I was sat down, or else that voice curling around me would’ve made my knees weak. Drew walked to the side of my work station, grabbed a chair from another and sat. He motioned with his hand and I shook myself out of the stupor and began to work again.

The work wasn’t actually difficult, I was just making sure I checked and rechecked everything in front of him- I didn’t want anyone complaining about my handiwork. Drew had sat and watched silently the entire time, and although he was trying his best to be quiet he still cut an imposing figure watching me work.

When I was finished, I held the trunks to him and avoided making eye contact with him. He grunted and stood, towering over me. I felt him hesitate and he took the trunks gently, our fingers stroking as he did so and I shivered. “Thank ya love” His deep timbre vibrated through my body and I nodded, almost closing my eyes at it. I didn’t see his grin as he walked away. I was too busy trying to remain calm after staring at his thighs for the past 5 minutes.

I managed to avoid Dolph for the rest of the night, meaning that I also avoided the Scotsman. It was a relief to be able to get work done without Ziggler bombarding me with cheesy lines, but it also meant that I wasn’t able to ogle Drew either. Clouds and silver linings I suppose.

I couldn’t get Drew’s soft voice out of my head. He spoke with such a harsh accent but made it sound almost melodious when it wrapped around words. The small interactions we had made my mouth water, the size and look of him made my thighs tighten. He had the look of a life ruiner in all the best ways about him.

I rounded the corner with armfuls of clothes and gear when I head Dolph’s laugh. I backed off into the corner and willed myself to not be seen by the irritating Ohioan. “Man, what more can I do for you? I’m annoying her in every way possible and dropping you in every conversation! Ya know she only reacts when I mention you anyway…” Dolph faded into background noise as my face started to become redder. Dolph KNEW he was being an annoying kid! But he was doing it for a reason…

I left it for a while before I came out of my hiding place, walking with a purpose towards my destination- with a lot of questions about what I had just heard. Who the hell had he been talking to?

I got my answer soon enough in the form of Ziggler. From what I had heard, the sweaty orange man had just lost his title and from the defeated sigh and slump into a chair he had lost something else as well. “You’re getting fake tan everywhere Ziggler.” Was my only comment to him. It was odd to see Dolph without his usual bravado about him, and I wanted to feel bad for the title loss but I just couldn’t bring myself to care. He rubbed his hands across his face and looked at me “He’ll kill me for this, but I just lost because of him.”

I raised an eyebrow at the pronoun game, and guessed he was talking about the Scottish Terminator. Dolph leaned forward and shook his hair out of his face. “He likes you. Like, LIKES you. He’s too much of a wimp to say anything.” He smiled sadly at me “I already know you like him too sweetness. I promise I’m not actually this much of an asshat…” He smiled into the distance and stood from the chair. He clapped me on the shoulder as he went past, I had long since stopped folding ring gear into the box. My eyes glazed over and I thought about what Ziggler had said- Drew actually liked me! Me! I smiled to myself, perhaps the awkward McIntyre was explanatory, but it made him adorable to watch me work.

I finished my work for the night with a smile on my face, partly because I was Ziggler free. Mostly because of the secret Dolph had told me, but I was slightly concerned that I hadn’t seen Drew. It was unusual backstage to have one tag partner away from the other in case they made a last minute change to story.

I had been heading out to the car park when I heard him.

“Hey love, ya fancy letting a Scottsman in yer ride?” Drew looked sheepish, his hands stuffed down his front pockets and a few strands of hair hung in his face. I smiled to him and gestured towards the car. He grinned and moved his case towards it. I finished loading up and got in the drivers’ seat, giving him time before I grilled him. I didn’t have time, as Drew had to fold himself into the car to even fit and I burst out laughing. Still chuckling, I reached over his lap and pulled the bar at the side of the chair to slide it backwards for him- Drew had tensed the entire time. I dared to look into his face and dark eyes met my gaze.

I lost my nerve at his look and slowly returned to my seat, starting the car and focusing on driving to the hotel. On the way there I saw Drew look over at me a few times and go to say something, only to purse his lips and look away again. I didn’t want to bring up what Dolph had said, but other than that we hadn’t really spoken before.

We pulled up in the parking lot of the hotel and Drew grabbed the bags from the car while I was checking in. Our rooms were on the same floor. It felt nice walking side by side with Drew, he had this air around him that nobody messed with- he was calm but radiated power. I snuck a peak up at him as we entered the elevator to see he was peeking down at me too. We both laughed and I burned red.

“Drew… What happened with Dolph?” I don’t know what prompted me to suddenly turn so serious, but it tumbled from my mouth before I could stop it. I felt him freeze next to me. He sighed and I ducked my head, wishing I hadn’t said anything to him.

“Ziggler and I… Never really got on. Tha locker room stuff was all we agreed on, and even then my opinion differed.” Drew tucked some hair behind his ears. “He wanted ta be more aggressive. I got tired of being such a bad guy. I still am a bad guy, jus aimed different.” He smiled sadly at me, and I had a feeling that he was giving me the polite version of what happened. I knew that some politics happened backstage, but I was never privy to knowing the details.

Drew’s hand reached out and smoothed my hair out of my face, his fingers lingered on my cheek and I took a breath in. “I kinda want different things now.” My breath stopped altogether at that. There’s no way I could be misreading things, so I went all in.

I had to go on my toes, and even then I wasn’t tall enough to reach his lips- luckily for me he lent down to me and we met halfway. Drew’s beard tickled my face and his lips were a soft contrast to the hair, caressing mine in a dance that saw me loose but I still ended up with his tongue in my mouth. Drew’s hands could completely cover half of my face, but he cradled my head and was so gentle like I was something he was scared to break. The doors opened and we broke the kiss for me to ask one question:

“Your room or mine?”

Drew smiled “Whicheva we get to first.” I grinned back at him and grabbed his hand. Yes I ran down the hall and he barely got past a speed walk with his legs, but I doubt anyone would laugh at us right now. My room appeared first and I thanked God when we came upon it, I was shoving the card in every direction at the lock for it to open while Drew kissed down my neck. “You’re not helping here” I was breathless, and not from the brief sprint.

When the door finally opened, Drew picked me up from behind and carried me into the room- somehow managing to drag the bags in after us. I was thrown on the bed and promptly began to undress. It seemed Drew liked the competition as he raced me to get down to nothing.

I stopped as Drew was taking his trousers off. The man was thicker than a tree and endless apparently. The situation dawned on me, I was about to get into bed with a guy that I had been crushing on for months.

Drew took me in his arms and wrapped himself around me. He kissed me softly and smiled down at me “This’ll only go as far as ya want it.” My own smile turned playful and I stepped closer to him “And how much do you want it Drew?” My smile soon disappeared as he took my hand and placed it over his boxers, onto his cock that did not disappoint. I licked my lips and kissed him. Drew took that as his confirmation and picked me up to put me on the bed.

“Ah, can’t wait to be inside ya” I noticed his accent got thicker the more turned on he was, and suddenly the accent that made me weak in the knees had me wetter than a cup of water. I pulled his face back down to me as he settled between my legs. His tongue explored my mouth and I rose from the bed to meet his hips. Drew started to trail his mouth down my neck and found a particular spot before grinding his hips down into me. The feeling of him made me rake my nails down his back, the moan he let out in reply vibrated through me.

His mouth had made its way down to my chest and his hands could cover the entirety of my small amount of boob to offer. Drew’s tongue circled a nipple whilst his hand massaged the other. I moaned up into his touch when he began to suck on one and my hands ran down to his last article of clothing- I tugged on the waistband.

Drew’s face moved back up to mine and he looked into my eyes. He seemed to be searching for something, and when I met his gaze the entire time he smiled. We rolled apart and stripped the last bits of clothes covering ourselves. My thong had just dropped to the floor when Drew’s arm wrapped around my waist again and dragged me onto the bed.

I landed underneath him and he settled between my legs again. “Ah would love to be slow…” As he spoke he dragged a finger through my folds and made me whimper. “I think we both need this.” He spoke with finality and I reached up to bite his lip. He kissed me with his full force and I felt myself get pushed back into the bed. The fact that he would be in me doing that soon was enough to make me lightheaded.

Drew rolled his hips and guided the tip of his cock in my folds, coating it before he found my entrance. I held my breath. With another roll that screamed experience he pushed inside me. I arched up and moaned in his ear, the feeling of being stretched yet perfectly full made me gasp. No one else had ever felt like this to me. I doubt there had ever been anyone as big as Drew was either. When he was fully in me he groaned and hung his head.

I became impatient underneath him and rocked my hips into his, Drew cursed and began to pump slowly. We both began to moan in tandem as he picked up his pace, our kissed became sloppy and open mouthed. Each time I came out for air his lips found mine to steal it again. Even with all of this going on, I still felt the need to tease.

“Go harder, I’m not going to break Drew.”

I whispered them into his ear and he growled, the look of passion gone from his face. His hands grasped my hips and turned me over onto my stomach. My face was stuffed into the mattress, and before I could say anything, Drew was pounding into me with renewed vigour. Each time he bottomed out my hips were pushed further into the bed, and I could’ve swore at one point I was bowed with the force he put into it.

It wasn’t a surprise that I didn’t last long with the enthusiasm he was putting in, but when I did come it was a shock. I screamed until my throat was sore and it went black behind my eyes. Drew was relentless, not stopping until I went lax on the bed. He stuttered after one thrust and grit out through his teeth “Where do ya want it”. I managed to lift my head and look over my shoulder to whisper “Inside” He grunted his approval and I dropped my head again, my hands gripping the sheets as he continued. I could hear him taking deep breaths now, trying to last longer.

Drew came with a shout and dug his teeth in my shoulder blade, slamming in with finality. I cried out at the feel of his bite and the come slowly spreading into me. Drew’s arms were shaking as he rolled to his side and began to cuddle me from behind. I felt exhausted. Before I could fully drift into sleep I thought would tease him once more. “I could get used to those kind of Glasgow kisses.” I felt him chuckle behind me.

“Aye love, I’ll wake ya up with one.”

#drew mcintyre #drew #WWE #WWE Raw #wwe smut #monday night raw #dolph ziggler #wwe imagine #drew galloway #mcintyre #imagines #Wrestling #wrestling imagine

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acarnivalofstars · 6 years ago

Text

Ensemble Stars Event Translation: Various Crossroads “Crowd” Part 2

Note: I’ve started school again since my break has ended so there is a possibility updates will slow down again/be on hiatus. I will do my best to finish this story ASAP however since I realize it’s taken so long to complete it but I truly appreciate all of you who’ve been patient for this long. I’m sorry and thank you!

Special thanks as usual to my proofreader Linne who accepts my sense of humor while translating!

Rei and Koga meet up with Kuro who was in charge of the stage outfits this time around. We get a little insight as to how he and Rei know each other and Keito ponders on his plans with some uncertainty in his snazzy new clothes.

[DEADMANZ Stage]

Rei: Bouzu~ Sorry to keep ya waitin’. I’m here.

Kuro: ...Oh, if it ain’t Sakuma?

Rei: Huh? It’s Kiryuu-kun. What’re ya doin’ here?

Kuro: I ain’t here to get in yer way. I got asked a small favor so I dragged myself over here.

We exchanged numbers awhile ago, so we’ve talked a few times over the phone.

Whenever I don’t understand somethin’ while I’m studyin’, he helps me out.

He’s the fastest one to get info on lessons or event schedules from, after all.

Rei: That so? I thought ya were a lone wolf who never hung out with anyone, so this is a surprise. ...Are you and bouzu close?

Koga: A lone wolf? Are ya talkin’ ‘bout me, Sakuma-senpai?!

Rei: Yer more like a lone puppy than a lone wolf.

Koga: I’m not a puppy! Anyway, do ya know this guy Sakuma-senpai?

The two of ya seem oddly close~ This guy also showed up a few times while we were havin’ lessons!

Kuro: Don’t point at others.

...As you can tell just by lookin’ at me, I don’t exactly fit in at school. I often hang around the roof or the gardens where people aren’t around.

I often see Sakuma in those places. And so, after talkin’ with him a few times we’ve become acquaintances.

...Yer pretty popular, no? Why’re you often hidin’ in the shadows like that?

Rei: Nah, always havin’ people ‘round me makes me unable to calm down. It can’t be helped since that’s just how I groove, but it does get tirin’ sometimes.

Just endlessly listening to people’s problems and givin’ them advice…

It just doesn’t let ya feel like yer enjoyin’ life to the fullest. Or even worse, it makes you feel like yer not even alive.

Kuro: That so? As a hoodlum hated by others, that doesn’t sound half bad to me.

Keito: Kiryuu. I’ve changed into this for now, but does it look okay?

Kuro: Yeah, overall it fits perfectly, but lemme do some small adjustments.

This is my first time makin’ a full-fledged outfit, so I’ve still got some areas I’m dissatisfied and worried about.

Rei: Ohh? What’s this, bouzu? That sure looks cool...Are ya wearin’ that while singin’ today?

Koga: Gyahaha ☆ What’s up with ya, Hasumi-senpai? That’s some serious rock n’ roll wear ya got on!

Keito: Oh, Sakuma-san and Oogami… You speak as if this has nothing to do with you both, but you’ll also be wearing this.

I asked Kiryuu to make this special outfit in order for today’s event.

Since Sakuma-san was overseas, we couldn’t get an exact measurement for his sizes…

As such, the length of his clothes might not be correct. After putting it on, if it doesn’t fit properly then we’ll get adjustments made.

Kuro: Yeah. That was also a part of your request, so I’ll make sure to take of that end too.

Keito: Thanks. We plan on making this a rather intense performance, so it’s possible the outfits might get damaged while we’re singing.

Just to be safe, I’d like for you to stay here until it ends.

...I might need you for other tasks as well, you see.

Of course, we’ll take care of the admission fee. Feel free to order as many drinks as you want, too.

I hope that serves as enough thanks for making such incredible outfits in just a week.

Kuro: Don’t sweat it. I had fun with it as well. If ya ever need outfits again, give me a call, Hasumi.

Rei: Ahaha. Looks like ya guys became real close buds, huh? The two of ya are basically a honor student and a delinquent, so you’re like polar opposites.

Keito: Kiryuu’s more serious than he looks. Also, it seems that he’s skilled at sewing. He often accepts requests for him to make outfits or patch them up, apparently.

Accepting jobs on school grounds without permission is a violation of the school rules, though.

In exchange for overlooking that, he agreed to make these outfits for a reasonable price.

If he wasn’t able to get them to us in time, I figured it’d be okay to just use one of the outfits shared by the school. But instead, he pulled through and finished them. I have to take my hat off to him. Once again, thank you Kiryuu.

Kuro: I told ya not to sweat it. More importantly, you’re almost up. Stop chattin’ and get ready.

Come on, you too, Sakuma and...Oogami, was it? Change into these, the both of you.

Rei: Hmm, I see. Roger that. I’ve got a pretty good idea as to what bouzu is planning to “ask” of me today. It’s more or less what I expected, but I’m interested in seein’ how this’ll play out.

Here, Puppy… We’re gonna change now. Don’t just dawdle around.

Koga: Huh? Hey, stop tryin’ to take off my clothes! I ain’t a baby ya know! I can change by myself!

Rei: There’s no need for ya to get all red. Yer not some naive maiden, after all… Also, this dressin’ room’s cramped so don’t squirm around.

Koga: We can just take turns changin’, can’t we? We don’t have to go in together, right~...?

Kuro: Haha. They sure are lively, huh? This feels oddly different from an idol Live. It’s my first time doin’ somethin’ like this.

I’m startin’ to get a lil pumped up myself.

Keito: …….

Kuro: Hm? What’s wrong, Hasumi? You sure don’t look good. Hold it together, man. Yer gonna be singin’ in front of people soon.

Keito: I know. Still, I can’t get rid of this uncertainty… What if I made an error in my judgement? Is this choice of mine truly correct?

Well, I’ll know the results soon. Even if I go on and on about inconsequential matters, nothing will change at this point.

I have no choice but to prepare myself for the worst and put my body and soul into it--No, I have to yield myself to fate.

I’ll do everything I can...I will definitely make my dream come true.

#ensemble stars #enstars #あんさんぶるスターズ！#あんスタ #karen tries to translate

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universal-kitty · 5 years ago

Note

Hey Cupcake, noticed you weren't really doin' anything and I was just wondering why you're not seated in my lap then? It's literally got your name on it because I had my tailors sew it into the crotch, so come 'ere and take a fucking seat. I miss you. I need a break from the utter bullshit that's happening and you look like Vacation to me. -Handsome Jack

(Oh my god, dating my boss was the best-worst idea I’ve ever done. Good. Stars above...)

Baaaaabbeee, you barely know half the shit I do in R&D... You realize that I’m “one of the [very] few competent ones”, right? (Your words, btw.) I love you so much, but I’m preeeettty sure our science division is gonna tank without my guiding light.....or something really cliche like that, I guess.

...I am extremely flattered that you literally put my name on your crotch, though. That’s a....big honor. (Pfft.)

Tell you what. Lemme feed these creatures I call my “pet projects” and I’ll be down there quicker than you can snap your fingers and say “come”. (Wait, that sounds suggestive too... Shit. Oh well. You get a kick outta that kinda thing anyways, don’tcha, babe?)

#HJack Anon #Aki answers #otp; science and violence #Suggestive Warning #Aki Does Art #Event; Letters from You #I love drawing my BLands SI sm #all the stray hairs an' lil details y'know??#something abt drawing this SI is so!!!#aaaaaaaa love it I need to draw them more!!!

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thelastspeecher · 6 years ago

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13 with birb guck au?

Day 01 Day 02 Day 03 Day 04 Day 05 Day 06 Day 07 Day 08Day 09 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15 Day 16Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20 Day 21 Day 22 Day 23 Day 24Day 25 Day 26 Day 27 Day 28 Day 29 Day 30

13. Halloween costumes

Yesterday I wasn’t able to post a write for NaNoWriMo, but here it is, my fourth NaNoWriMo entry. Birb Guck AU Stangie and their babs doing costume stuff for Halloween.

Word count: 1463

Send me a number for a fall-themed prompt!

“Ow!” Stan hissed in pain as he pricked himselfwith the needle. Again. His fingertips were raw and red from themultiple accidental stabs he’d given himself, but at least he was almost done.

“You allright, darlin’?” Stan looked up. Angie had come into the living room at somepoint while Stan was sewing. She bouncedtheir youngest child, eight-month-old Emmett, against her shoulder. It was the only way that he could be soothedas of late.

“Yeah,just stuck myself is all,” Stan said. Angie sat next to him on the couch, adjusting her hold on Emmett so thathe was sitting on her lap. Stan pokedEmmett’s large nose playfully. “Heythere, sport.” Emmett snapped at Stan’sfinger, his tiny, sharp teeth catching on air. “Missed me. Better luck nexttime, kiddo.” Emmett warbled a series ofnotes eerily similar to the theme from CloseEncounters of the Third Kind. Stanfrowned. “When did he learn that?”

“It wason TV the other day.”

“But howdid he remember it?”

“Guckscan remember songs like nobody’s business,” Angie said proudly. She stroked the top of Emmett’s head, whichwas covered in a thin layer of gray down. Emmett closed his eyes, content. “Whatare ya doin’ there? Did the girlsaccidentally rip up yer clothes again or somethin’?”

“Nah. Just working on my Halloween costume.”

“Wh- Stan,the kids have to stay inside! They’re-”

“Partalien, yeah. But the girls can turnhuman now, and they’re going to kindergarten, and their friends have been askingabout trick-or-treating.”

“We don’thave any Halloween costumes.”

“Nope. But the girls don’t need costumes,” Stansaid. Angie cocked her head at him. “All they gotta do is wear their feathers,and they can go shake down strangers for money like any other kid.”

“Are- areyou suggestin’ that our half-alien children wander down the street withoutlookin’ human?” Angie asked. Shewhistled a few notes in worry. Stansmiled confidently at her.

“Thepeople in this town are idiots. Bigfootcould go knockin’ on their front door, asking to borrow a cup of sugar, andthey’d give it to him, thinking it was just a really hairy lumberjack. And it’s Halloween, babe. People will be expecting aliens.”

“But-” Angie whistled again. Stan stifled a laugh at her admittedly cutenervous tic. “But if we go out inpublic, and they have feathers, and then somehow, some way, someone sees me orTate or Fidds or the kids feathered later, they’ll know exactly who it is! And the FBI will be breakin’ down our frontdoor!”

“Babe, I’vegot this all figured out.” Stan restedhis hand over Angie’s. “If sometime,someone sees one of you Gucks in feathers, and it’s not during Halloween, they won’t think it’s you. Why? Because they saw you in feathers onHalloween! Everybody knows that peoplewho have something to hide will keep it hidden. Only dumbasses would flaunt the things they want to keep secret.” Emmett whistled three notes that sounded exactlylike Stan’s inflection on the word “dumbasses”. “See? Even Emmett agrees.”

“It- it is weirdly brilliant,” Angie saidsoftly. She swallowed. “But it- it goes against everything I’ve beentaught.” She stroked Emmett’s headagain. “Then again, our whole relationshipgoes against what I was taught as a Guckling.”

“Exactly.” Stan leaned over to kiss Angie on thenose. She chuckled. “And I’ll go out and buy some cheap chickencostumes or somethin’ for the boys. Babycostumes pretty much cover everything, except for the eyes, but they have humaneyes anyways. Trust me, I’ve got aplan. No one’s gonna think that you orthe kids actually have feathers.” Angie’sface was still drawn with worry. “Iwouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“Youtried to feed Danny worms when she was a week old.”

“Hey, I’vemade a lot stupider decisions than that,” Stan said firmly. “That one made sense. Baby birds eat worms. I thought that one through.”

“Did yathink this one through?”

“I’vebeen planning this for two months.”

“Thatlong, huh?”

“Yeah.” Stan looked down at the mass of fabric in hislap. “I know you wanna keep the kidssafe, and I do too. But we have to finda balance between keeping them safe and letting them be kids, y’know? We can’t just keep ‘em inside all the time. I figured that Halloween would be the big thingthat we can use to ease them into human interactions.”

“They goto school.”

“Thenstraight home, once they’re done with class for the day.” Stan met Angie’s eyes. In her natural state, they were pure black,as dark as obsidian. But she was in herhuman form right now, and they were sky blue, churning with anxiety. “I know that when you were a kid, you had tobe inside whenever any human was within spitting distance of the farm. I wasn’t raised like that, though. I grew up breaking curfew and bein’ a generalhoodlum.” Angie managed a smallsmile. “It’s good for kids to spend timeoutside with other kids, not in school.” After a moment, Angie nodded.

“Okay.” Her voice was soft. “We’ll- we’ll take ‘em trick-or-treatin’.”

“They’llbe over the moon.” Angie noddedagain. She rubbed her eyes. “I promise, it’s gonna be fine.”

“I’llhold ya to that promise.” Loudscreeching emitted from the nursery. “Emory’sup.”

“Yep.” Stan set down his costume and held out hishands. Angie gently deposited Emmettinto his waiting arms. Emmett looked upat Stan with wide eyes. “Your old man isgonna hold you now. You all right withthat?” Emmett whistled the theme from Close Encounters of the Third Kindagain. Stan whistled the themeback. Emmett’s mouth dropped open inshock. Angie chuckled.

“I thinkyou just blew Emmett’s mind.”

“Yeah. I should whistle more.”

—–

“My mom’sgonna be happy we’re using the stroller she sent us,” Stan remarked as he buckledEmmett and his twin, Emory, into the stroller. Both infants were wearing bird costumes that covered their inhumanfeatures.

“Daddy,you look so much like us,” Daisy said, stroking Stan’s costume. Stan turned around and kissed the top ofDaisy’s head.

“I’mpretty good at sewing, yeah. And I usedfeathers I found laying around the house, which helped.”

“That’swhat happened to all the shed feathers,” Angie remarked. She was adjusting Danny’s coat so that it wasn’ttoo tight. “I thought it was weird thatI didn’t need to vacuum last week.” Shestraightened. “Do you have your buckets,girls?”

“Yep!”Danny and Daisy said together. Daisythrust her jack-o-lantern-shaped basket in front of her proudly, hitting Stan’sknee.

“Careful,honey,” Angie said. “Don’t beat up yerfather.”

“He cantake it,” Daisy said. Stan laughed. He ruffled Daisy’s head feathers.

“That’smy girl.” Stan looked over atAngie. She gave off an anxious air, madeobvious by the way her canary-colored feathers were fluffed up. “Ready to go trick-or-treating, Ang?”

“As readyas I’ll ever be,” Angie replied, her voice shaking. Stan moved over to her, dragging the strollerwith him. Emory giggled and clapped hishands. Stan put a comforting arm aroundAngie’s feather-covered shoulders.

“It’sgonna go great, babe. You know that,” hesaid softly. Angie nodded. “If it goes south, somehow, I’ll make adistraction so that you and the kids have time to get away. But it won’t.” Angie nodded again, this time moreconfidently. “Hit the button, girls!” Danny and Daisy jostled for the honor ofpressing the button by the door leading inside. Danny was successful; upon pressing it, the garage door creaked open. Trick-or-treaters wandered the street withparents, running from house to house as they tried to collect the best possiblecandy. One of the neighbors, theLawsons, stopped in front of the open garage.

“Is thatthe McGucket-Pines family?” Mrs. Lawson asked.

“Pines-McGucket,”Stan said. Angie rolled her eyes.

“Yourcostumes are great!” Mr. Lawson said. “Wheredid you get them?”

“Stanmade ‘em,” Angie answered.

“Wow! We should ask you to make our costumes nextyear, Stan,” Mrs. Lawson said.

“It’llcost you,” Stan said.

“Maybenot, then,” Mr. Lawson said. Hechuckled. “Have a fun Halloween!”

“You too,”Angie said. The Lawsons walkedaway. Stan grinned at Angie.

“I hateto say ‘I told you so’, but…” Angieshoved Stan playfully.

“Oh,please. You never hate sayin’ that.” Shegave him a peck on the cheek. “Let’stake these lil buggers to get some free candy from strangers.”

“Yeah!”Danny and Daisy shouted, running out of the garage. “Free candy!”

“God, Ilove those kids,” Stan said proudly. “They’vegot their priorities straight.”

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