#imagine that all around the country people woke up to the news that people they feared were on the loose | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meatonfork · 6 months ago

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hey guys! in honor of hitting 3,000 followers, INSANE BTW, i wrote a little something! it’s not cod. i’m so sorry. anyways, here we go!

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What Do I Do, Dad?

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x roommate!reader

warnings: reader has long hair. and one reference to naughty thoughts. but i believe that’s it!

i hope you enjoy!

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Moving into an apartment with a complete stranger was never on your bucket list. The idea of living with someone you knew nothing about wasn’t all that appealing in your opinion. You imagined most people shared the same sentiment towards the topic. Learning what your soon-to-be roommate did and did not like seemed like a grueling process. What’s their morning routine like? How long do they shower for? Are they a health nut? What’s their occupation? And the dreaded question, “what if they’re a serial killer?” But, you needed somewhere to live, and this had been your best option.

You never expected your new roommate to be a 6’4, mustached, gentleman who was more than willing to accommodate your comfort zone and help move your belongings into the shared space. Bradley Bradshaw was an enigma at first. He was kind enough, but kept to himself. He was always up before you, and came home just after you walked in the door. His blue bronco was only ever seen by you if you happened to leave the house after he came home.

You quickly learned he was a naval aviator, working on base just fifteen minutes from your shared apartment. Bradley was reserved, but respectful. He never dove too deep into his work day, nor did he have much of his personal life sitting on the tip of his tongue. But, he made dinner often, and made sure to not use all the hot water before you woke up and took a shower.

Working closer to home and getting off before him allowed you to make sure the shared space wasn’t in a constant state of disarray. Though, it wasn’t like you had much to do anyway. Bradley was a very neat man, which you assumed the navy drilled into his brain. Due to his long work days, you didn’t spend much time with the man aside from, “hey, how was work today?” or, “what are you thinking for dinner?” before you both inevitably said your goodnights. But, this day was different.

Groaning, you flipped over and stuck your hand out to grab your phone and turn off the annoying alarm that signaled you had to get up for work. It was a Saturday, and work was only in a couple hours. The downside of managing a small cafe meant you had an unconventional schedule. You had the option to have weekends off, but your caring nature wouldn’t allow you to leave your fellow coworkers to fend for themselves during a Saturday rush. You’d been there before, and figured they’d appreciate the help.

Slapping your phone back down onto your stomach, you pushed whatever stray hairs were on your face aside. You got out of bed, grabbed your uniform and started to make your way to the bathroom to grab a quick shower before you made any other plans for the morning before work. Bradley shouldn’t be here, he never is on Saturday’s. Something about working in the hangar on Saturday’s with some other guy you’d yet to meet. You didn’t really know of anybody that Bradley spent his time with. Of course, you knew he had a squadron, but you’d never met them. And, he never really spoke of them. You just assumed he enjoyed keeping his work and home lives separate. Not that you blamed the man at all.

Throwing a bagel into the toaster, the music coming from the speaker you’d set on the counter had you moving your hips along to the country song. Humming, you spun around to the fridge to grab cream cheese, when you came face to face with a mustache.

“Oh, my God!” your hand clutched at your racing heart, “What the hell are you doing home? You’re never here.” You let out a puff of air as you caught your breath.

A chuckle met your ears as you backed up a couple steps, not wanting to have your face stuffed into his chest any longer.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I decided I wanted a day at home.” His brown eyes trailed your figure as you reached into the fridge. Your hair was still damp, and managed to soak the left shoulder of your shirt, he noted. He leaned onto the counter, his arms crossed against his sleep shirt.

“It’s all good, just didn’t expect you is all. So, if you’re not going down to the hangar, what are your plans?” You turned back around and noticed his hair was still mussed from his sleep, and his eyes held a certain grogginess you’d never been around to see before. He looked really warm, and you wondered if his arms were as comfy as they seemed.

He hummed before giving a small shrug, “‘m not really sure yet, honestly. Kinda just wanna stay in today. Maybe watch a movie or two, do some work around here. What time are you off today?” His head tilted to the side as he watched you set the cream cheese down on the counter, turning to grab a butter knife for you from the drawer that was next to his hip.

Thanking him, you grabbed the knife that looked comically small in his large hand, “I should be off around five, but who knows. I swear these people are giving me a run for my money. Why? Do I need to come home sooner? Or later, even?” A soft chuckle escaped your lips as the bagel popped out of the toaster.

It’s not that you didn’t want to talk with Bradley, but you didn’t have much to talk about. Neither of you knew too much about each other aside from your occupations (and even then, you didn’t know much about his), and what time you went to bed. God, you wished you knew more about this man. But, if there’s one thing you did know about him, he was reserved. Kept to himself and in turn, you kept to yourself. You didn’t see the point in striking a conversation up when you knew you wouldn’t get much out of him.

You wanted to know what life was like for him growing up, or who his best friend is. You ached to know how he got those scars that rested on his cheek and peeked from the collar of his shirt. You wanted to know what drove him to wear those hawaiian button ups, and what compelled him to grow out that mustache you oh so adored. You longed to know Bradley. And you often wondered if he wanted to know you too. But, the way he kept to himself made you quickly come to the conclusion that he simply didn’t want to. If he wanted to, he would talk to you more than just about how work was, or whose turn it was to go grocery shopping.

“Yeah, well that’s what happens when you’re the big guy around there.” He gave a small chuckle and his lips pulled up into a small smile when he saw you gave a little shake of your head and rolled your eyes, “Anway, I was thinking we could order takeout and watch something tonight? I don’t feel like cooking tonight, and I doubt you want to either.” He tried, dear God, he tried to make it sound like a statement. But, his voice tilted at the last second, making it come off as a question. Mentally kicking himself, he realized he almost sounded nervous.

Truth be told, he was scared of you. Scratch that, he was terrified of you. You, who was stunning and so sure of yourself. You knew what you wanted, and you got it. Consequences be damned. You were so independent, hardly ever asking him (or anyone for that matter) for help. On top of that, you could cook, you made sure the house was clean, and you weren’t obnoxiously loud. You didn’t take up too much space, not that he would ever even think about complaining if you ever did. If anybody asked him about you, he’d say you were perfect, and it wouldn’t be a lie. And, God, were you gentle. Even frustrated, you didn’t raise your voice. You kept a level head, even after one of the worst shifts of your life. You never pushed for anything unless dire, and you brushed off most inconveniences that made head in your path. To him, you were a breath of fresh air he didn’t know he needed. And, little did he know, you felt the same.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, that seems pretty nice. I’m already anticipating the end of my shift,” a small grin made its way to your lips and your heart fluttered at the prospect of Bradley wanting to finally, finally spend time with you.

“Aren’t you always?” he teased back. Lord, did he look good. Tanned skin, eyes bright, shirt squeezing his biceps, and sweats that hung loosely on his hips. How you made it this far without jumping his bones already? You’d never know.

A laugh pushed its way past your lips, “Yeah, yeah I am.” You took a bite of your bagel before putting the knife in the sink and the cream cheese away. One glance at the clock told you that you needed to be out the door in five minutes, or you’d be late. And that was something you never were. “I gotta get going, but send me some menus and what you want. I’ll place the order and pick it up on the way home.” You made your way to the front door, bagel and keys in hand.

“Alright, sounds good. Have a good day.” And with that, you were out the door and on the way to sling drinks for middle aged pricks and stuck up teenagers.

It wasn’t until 4:30 that you were able to check your phone. You were covered in multiple syrups, and coffee grounds. You even had steamed milk run down your apron and onto your leg at one point. You felt more than disgusting, and if one more customer decided to complain to you about something unimportant one more time, you might have lost your cool.

Sitting in a random chair in the break room, you let out an exasperated sigh and looked at your messages. Bradley. He had sent his order to you about 10 minutes prior, and you looked through the same menu. Quickly coming to the decision you wanted honey walnut shrimp and chicken chow mein, you called the place and got your order taken care of.

The last 30 minutes of your shift went by agonizingly slowly, and the moment the clock struck five, you were clocking out and bidding your coworkers goodnight while you bolted out the front door.

The drive seemed to drag on, and all you wanted was a shower and to eat dinner with your painstakingly attractive roommate while you watched trashy tv. Pulling into the driveway, you didn’t waste a second to drag your aching body out of your car and up to the door. The moment you walked in, feet dragging behind, you noticed Bradley sat on the couch. Body leaning on one armrest while his long legs splayed out over the cushions. He sat up and paused the tv to look at you.

“Hey- oh. Rough day?” his smile fell at the sight of you with mocha on your neck, and they way you just looked sticky.

Your lips thinned as you ran a hand over your ponytail, “Yeah. I’m beat to shit, man. Do you mind if I take a quick shower before we eat? I promise I won’t be long.” Your shoes landed in a pile next to the door, and your eyes hung as you looked up at him.

You were met with a nod from the man, “Of course. I don’t mind. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t get syrup all over our couch,” he teased while he got up. His hands met yours as he took the white bag from your hands and moved towards the kitchen. You almost stopped breathing.

“Yeah, no kidding. Thanks, I’ll be right back,” you let out a quiet sigh and made your way to your bedroom that was right next to his. You grabbed a change of clothes and made your way to the bathroom. True to your words, you were out in less than 10 minutes before you made your way back down the hall.

While you were showering, Bradley had taken it upon himself to put the food on two plates, grab a blanket from the linen closet and set everything up in the living area. At the sight of something so cozy after a long day, you felt the familiar prick of tears on your waterline. Shoulders slumped and a defeated look in your eyes, you made your way to the couch and plopped yourself beside your roommate.

“Hey, what’re the tears for?” his voice was soft, and thus the tears rolled down the apples of your cheeks.

“It’s just really nice to come home to food and a comfy couch after a fucked day,” you wiped at your cheeks and sunk further into the couch. Bradley let out a soft hum in understanding. You often took care of him, whether you realized it or not. And, he saw this as his opportunity to do the same. Reaching over your back, he grabbed the blanket from earlier and splayed it across your lap.

“Well, on the bright side, hon, you don’t have to go back tomorrow and we’ve got some good food to eat tonight. What movie are you feelin’? Up to you.” You tried not to let the nickname get to you, the butterflies pooling in your stomach made it that much harder. You let the blanket warm up your shorts clad legs, Bradley kept the ac on cool most times and you didn’t like to turn it up in fear making him too warm.

A soft hum came from the back of your mouth as you settled even further before you spoke up, “Howl’s Moving Castle, please.”

A snort escaped him before he nodded and settled as well, “Alright, I can make that happen for you.” He quickly brought the movie up and leaned down to hand you your plate of food. The steam coming from it let you know he heated it up while you cleaned up and the idea of the gesture almost made you tear up again.

Living so far from your parents was a hard decision to make, but you knew you had to do it. Your hometown just didn’t provide you with the opportunities you were longing for. The idea of being stuck somewhere you knew you couldn’t grow the way you craved made you feel trapped. Your parents didn’t blame you. They could see the longer you made the sacrifice of staying near them, the more you became a drained, hollow version of yourself. No matter how much you loved living in sunny California on the beach, you still craved to be held by them sometimes. You often found yourself missing the way they took care of you. And, the way Bradley took care of you in this moment made you miss them more.

“Where’d you go? Hmm?” Bradley’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. He could see the far away look that took over your eyes as you sat next to him. It’s not like you were normally loud, again, Bradley loved how quiet you tended to be. You weren’t too quiet, nor too loud. Perfect. But, you were keeping your thoughts to yourself a little more than usual tonight.

“I’m still here. I was just thinking of my parents. I haven’t talked to them this week yet. I should do that soon.” Your voice was just as soft as his.

“Ah, I see. I miss mine too.” He gave a small shrug and smile that eased your loud mind.

“Are they far?” Of course you didn’t know. He couldn’t fault you for asking. He never told you, thought it would be pretty awkward to throw it out there.

“Uh, no. They’re buried in town, I just haven’t gone to see them in a while.” The way you stilled and your eyes widened had him opening his mouth before you could say anything, “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Although, they’d love you.” His shoulder bounced off of yours, a smile playing on his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Bradley.” You let your hand fall on his arm. Warmth shot up his arm, his cheeks feeling the heat. You felt awful, and he could tell.

“Really, it’s fine. But, this reminds me that we don’t know much about each other. So how ‘bout a game? 20 questions?” He turned his body to face you, his eyes soft and a small bit of hair resting on his forehead.

You moved your head as if you were thinking hard on it before a smile took over your face, “Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, okay. Uh, what is your hometown like?”

You spent the better part of an hour talking about anything and everything your minds could come up with. You learned his dad was Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, and he was a fighter pilot just like the man sitting in front of you. You learned of the saint his mother, Carole, was. You heard a bit about his squadron, and who the mysterious man he worked on the plane with every Saturday was. Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, who was his father’s best friend, and the man who took Bradley under his wing after his father passed. You learned his favorite movie, color, dream vacation. You finally figured out why he wore the hawaiian button ups, and grew out the mustache you adored. Discovering his love of playing the piano when he went to the bar had you begging him to take you so you could hear it for yourself. You laughed at his terrible jokes, and gasped at his stories in the air.

He learned about your hometown, and what high school was like for you. He learned your favorite foods, and what colors you absolutely despised. He learned that you’re a lightweight, which immediately had him coming up with the idea of taking you out with the squad to the Hard Deck. He learned, on his own conclusion, that you would love them. And, they would adore you. He wanted so desperately for you to have more friends after finding out you weren’t from anywhere near here. He scoffed at the idea that you and Hangman would, unfortunately, get along due to your love of rodeos and country music. He learned that you put way too much cream cheese on your bagel, in his uncultured opinion.

After a while, he noticed your eyes held a tired film over them, and your body slumped with your arm propping your head up on the back of the couch. You both had finished your food long before, and before you fell asleep with the plate in your lap, he took it upon himself to put the dishes in the sink. He’d worry about them later.

“Your turn to pick a movie, Bradshaw.” You piped up once he sat back down, and you shifted so your feet were underneath you.

“Last name? Am I in trouble all of a sudden?” He scoffed out as he flopped onto the couch. He grabbed the remote, browsing for something that piqued his interest.

“No. I don’t know why I felt compelled to do that, honestly.” You laughed out.

He just shook his head, and finally picked a movie. The 2011 Footloose. You sat quietly until you finally spoke out, “Huh. That guy kinda looks like you. Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t see it. I’m way better looking than that guy.” He hummed out, a side glance being shot your way. God, you looked beautiful. Tiredness took over your soft features and you gave him a little smile.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, B.”

He laughed, and turned back to the movie playing before the two of you. It wasn’t for another 20 minutes that anything was said. Until, he felt a soft thump hit his shoulder. He looked down and saw your head leaning on his shoulder. Faint breaths escaped your mouth, and he moved very slowly to shift so he was holding you to his chest. His legs spread out the length of the couch, and he held his breath as you shifted. Your hand gripped the white shirt that he wore before you finally stilled.

If he thought you were perfect before, his whole world just shifted. He’d never seen someone so at peace. So unbothered by the world around them. He could get used to seeing this every day for the rest of his life, he thought. Holding you close while you peacefully slept after a long day. He wanted to be the one to make you smile every day, and wipe your tears on the particularly hard days. He wanted his friends to love you almost as much as he did. He was a little greedy on that front. But, most importantly, he didn’t want anyone else to share these moments with you.

“Oh, dad. What do I do?”

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please let me know what y’all think, and if i made any mistakes! i’ve missed you lot :’)

#fork speaks #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw comfort #bradley bradshaw fluff

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indulgentdaydream · 1 year ago

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ive had this thought for ages about jason dating a southern girl/guy/person

Thoughts?

YES ANON OH YES I HAVE

I’m not southern in an american context (which i assume this ask is in) but I am very much southern in a Canadian context (which, in ontario, is pretty similar)

I’m thinking of this as also a from the countryside! type of reader headcanons…

Here are my thoughts…

(This is gn!reader btw)

So for whatever reason, you end up moving to Gotham City. Whether for school or a new life or a new job opening.

Rent is cheap, but you’re thinking you may need to put yourself into self defence classes.

Lots of pros and cons.

Luckily!! One pro is your new boyfriend!!

I really don’t believe Jason would date anyone unless he had known them and been friends with them first (demiromantic!jason truther right here)

ANYWAYS

Jason being a little shocked at the idea that you used to have to drive 30+ minutes to get to the grocery store before you moved to Gotham

Jason getting HEART ATTACKS because you’re way too busy staring up at all the buildings in awe while walking, too busy to be looking for highly possible dangers up ahead

“That’s so huge!! Look at all the windows at that one!”

“Please tell me you don’t do this when I’m not here guiding you.”

Later in your relationship, if you’re not afraid of heights, and he knows no one will see y’all, he takes you to the top of wayne enterprises to see all of gotham

One time during patrol, he catches sight of you walking back from one of your outings.

He’s not stalking… he’s making sure his partner is getting home safe!

He watches you wait for a crosswalk when there isn’t a single car around and finds it adorable.

Like… just cross. It gets you home faster and out of danger.

He finds your differences in growing up fascinating,

He was in alleyways, broken down buildings, only got to properly see the sun once in a blue moon when the clouds were gone and it was just at the right angle.

You grew up always in the sun, able to see the stars at night in such clarity, had the choice of seeing the sunrise AND sunset every day.

Please take Jason to the country on a clear summer night so this boy can look at the stars with you PLEASE

I was going to comment on accents, but Jason has no say against yours

I’ve always imagined him with the THICKEST new jersey accent, distinctly something that people associate with Gotham (or at least the poorer people of gotham)

He’s trained it away, but it comes back when tired, pissed off, distracted, saying something familiar, etc. (it happens to me at the best of times with that canadian accent😞 i catch myself off guard sometimes)

If he comments on your southern accent, you have FULL authority to bring up the one time he woke up at your place talking about a “cuppo CAUWfee” (cup of coffee)

Feel free to add on to this with your own hcs in the reblogs!!

This is kinda messy my bad

❤️- Missy

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velvetstreets · 2 years ago

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Can I request a Jack Harlow imagine where him & the reader (who is a famous actress) are broken up & in an interview that she does she hints how Jack is still the love of her life & later they see each other at a red carpet & he asks her about that & asks her out again & they start rekindling things. Smut is very much welcomed if you’re comfortable with that :)

A/N: girl you sent this so mf long ago, im so sorry for getting to this so late! But I loved this concept and didn’t wanna let it go. Hope I did this justice <3

None of the people in my writings portray the actual people I write about! It’s all a work of fiction, I have no idea how they are/act irl.

Warnings: lovers reuniting, drinking, swearing, smut!, oral sex (f! recieving) penetrative sex (f!receiving), creampie, mushy ‘i love you’s

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It had been a little over a year since your public relationship with Jack ended. You both loved eachother dearly, but at the time, your lives were going in separate ways. He was constantly busy with performances and touring, flying all over the world; and your acting career had taken off, being dragged all around the country for filming. In the end, you barely saw eachother, and it just wasn’t working for either of you, so you both amicably agreed to end it.

The heartbreak tortured you for a few months. You threw yourself into your work, wanting to cloud your mind with anything but Jack, yet somehow it made you think of him more. With some time and comfort from your friends and co-workers, you had felt the pain less and less, until one day you woke up and finally felt like your old self again. As much as you loved him, keeping him at arms-length via social media was too much for you. You’d send eachother ‘happy birthday’ dm’s and ‘congratulations’ texts for eachother’s accomplishments, but that was it. You didn’t allow yourself to keep up with him, only hearing things about him via industry talk and the radio of course. That was the one thing of him you allowed yourself to keep; his music. It was your guilty pleasure, something to remember him by. Though the heartbreak was agonizing, you were eventually grateful for it. Not only did it help you grow in your personal life, but it helped your work life as well. The performances you gave became critically acclaimed, earning yourself an Emmy and a Golden Globe. Because of this, you were offered more exclusive roles, bought a new apartment, and were finally feeling happy again; the first time in a long while.

Currently, you were seated on a set, being interviewed by Vogue about your life and your upcoming projects; amongst other things.

“So the rumors are saying that you might be starring in the next season of Euphoria. Is that true?” the interviewer asked.

“I can now finally confirm, that that is true!” You said as she cheered and the two of you laughed together.

“How was it working with Zendaya?”

“She’s absolutely phenomenal. As an actress, as a person, as a friend, she’s just the best. Super super sweet and down-to-earth, and fantastic at her job. It was an honor working along side her and the rest of the cast.”

“That sounds fantastic. We all can’t wait to see you join the story. Now just a little side-step from work; are you dating anyone? Maybe someone by the name of Mr. Omar Apollo perhaps? Or Drake? We’ve seen those cozy flicks of y’all together, are y’all just friends or maybe something more?” She pressed.

“Oh no, I’m not dating anyone. I’ve kinda left the dating world for a little while, just focusing on me. Omar and I are good friends, nothing else. And Drake is like my older brother! I’d never date him, especially since he’s good friends with my ex as well, I could never do that.” You answered honestly.

“Speaking of Jack Harlow.., what happened, how did that end?”

“Let me put it this way; we both agreed to end things. Our respective careers were taking off, and we both agreed that it was just best for us at the time to not be together. It’s all love though, I think he’ll always be one of those people for me - I could never not love him. He’s a great person and was a great boyfriend to me, definitely showed me that I was capable of loving someone, as well as capable of being loved. And I’ll always be grateful to him for that.” You said, forcing the lump in your throat down. You felt hot after belting your heart out a little too loudly, but you pushed your anxious thoughts away, getting back to the interview at hand.

It was now a month after the interview had aired, and you had let it wash off your shoulders. You were proud of your genuine honesty, and continued to focus on you. Currently, you were getting ready to attend the Billboard Music Awards as a plus one, courtesy of your close friend SZA. You were excited to let your hair down a little, as well as overjoyed at the possibility of SZA winning a few awards for her album SOS.

SZA was dressed in a sleek black halter dress with a thigh-high slit, which accentuated her minimalist aura. You were styled in a black Mugler dress which had a plunging neckline, and different cutouts down to your hips - similar to that of Megan Fox’s. It showed a little more skin than you were used to, but it was absolutely gorgeous; and SZA declared she wouldn’t leave to the event if you didn’t wear it. So here you were, downing a couple of glasses of champagne in the back of an SUV with SZA, trying to calm your anxiety while singing and rapping along to her ‘get lit, get rich, make u wanna kiss’ playlist with her.

“Are you sure about this? I could just sneak in the back and meet you in there-” you started to nervously ramble.

“Bitch, are you kidding me? You look fucking phenomenal, ain’t no way in hell I’m letting you sneak off. This is a ‘need to be seen’ outfit, and you’re gonna be seen! It’s gonna be just fine, we’re in this together. Anxiety can’t get to us if we’re a team baby.” She reassured you.

You smiled at her before bringing her into a hug; you knew she was anxious about the interviews she had to do on the carpet, and she knew red carpets always made you anxious, with all the pictures and yelling that there was.

“Love you.” You said holding out your hand to do your little friendship handshake you had with her.

“I love you more.” she replied, doing the handshake. “Now drink up girl, these events take forever so it’s more fun to be a lil’ drunk.” she winked at you.

You cheered together, and continued vibing until you turned to corner and pulled up to the carpet. You got out and SZA took your hand, leading you to the carpet. She held your hand the entire time, poking at you and whispering jokes and comments to you, making you giggle and forgetting about the anxiety you had. You made your way down the carpet, pausing to be photographed every few feet, some alone, and some together with SZA. She did a few short interviews with you by her side, and you chimed in every so often a question or comment was directed to you.

You were finally feeling a little more relaxed, and then you saw it.

Small brown curls belonging to a tall figure making their way down the carpet; you couldn’t see them yet, but you knew who they belonged to. You heard the screams of his name from the paparazzi and fans, the flash of the cameras going off, and finally, a path cleared and you saw him in the flesh.

He wore a sleek black suit and shoes - Prada most likely, his diamond encrusted PG ring gleaming in the lights, KY chain peeking out, and his dazzling smile.

You felt like you were going to pass out. You weren’t ready for this, you had expected to bump into him at one of these industry events at some point, but it still caught you off guard. Your heart was pounding out of your chest at this point, and you felt panicked. You felt someone squeeze your hand, bringing you back to reality, and SZA gave you a knowing smile.

“Just breathe, Y/N. I got you. Don’t forget you’re the motherfuckin’ prize. Whether or not he had you once before, you stay being the prize.” she told you. You looked and nodded at her words. “I’m the prize.” you reiterated and she nodded and smiled. “Keep that in mind, cause he’s coming over here now.”

‘Oh fuck. Okay, here we go.’ you thought.

“Y/N?” his sultry Kentucky accent flooded your ears for the first time in a while.

You turned around with your head tilted upwards, familiar with his height, and met his eyes.

“Jack. It’s good to see you.” You said warmly with a soft smile. He bent down for a hug and you embraced him before pulling apart; his hands stayed curled around your wrists.

“It’s good to see you too, been a while. You look beautiful.” he admired.

“Thank you, so do you. No glasses?” You joked, noticing his favorite Prada glasses were nowhere to be seen.

He laughed and shook his head with a smile. “Nah, not this time. Felt a lil’ douchey of me to wear ‘em today. Plus, now I can admire the beauty more clearly.” He said, admiring your face and its features. You blushed, internally screaming at the warm feeling that erupted in your tummy.

“Well it was nice seeing you, we should head inside-” You spoke, turning a little, insinuating to leave.

“Yeah, I’ll see you in there. Maybe we can catch up a little.” He said hopefully.

“Yeah, yeah for sure.” You said, smiling before saying goodbye and heading into the venue with SZA.

She gave you a teasing knowing look.

“Shut up, don’t say shit.” You tried to hold a grin back from her.

“I ain’t say nothin!” She laughed at you. You rolled your eyes and laughed, giving her a small shove.

SZA had won the three awards she was nominated for, and you couldn’t be more excited and proud of her. It was a true accomplishment, and you wanted to celebrate, so you told her you were getting her a fuck ton of drinks. She tried to stop you, telling you you didn’t have to, but you were set in your decision.

You headed to the bar and ordered a bottle of champagne and a few shots. You checked your phone as you waited, until you heard a voice behind you.

“I saw your interview.” Jack’s voice spoke. You turned around and saw him leaning against the bar.

“Oh you did, did you?” You asked.

“Yup.” He said with a smile.

“And what’d you think?” You asked, heart pounding against your chest.

“Can’t believe you forgot to mention what a great chef I was too, besides a great boyfriend.” He joked.

“Your peanut butter chicken says otherwise.” You giggled.

“I stand by that recipe! It’s a classic, your tastebuds just weren’t on my side.” he chuckled, stepping a little closer to you.

“No but for real, I thought you were amazing - as usual of course.” He smiled at you. “I’ve missed you. Like alot.” he said fiddling with your fingers.

“I’ve missed you too, Jack. Like alot.” you repeated his sentence.

“I’ve done alot of growing since we broke up, had time to focus on my career and tour and all that stuff, and I know how to handle it better now.” He stated. “But I haven’t been happy. Not like when we were together.”

“Jack, you just won two awards tonight.” You reminded him.

“And I’m still miserable.” He countered.

“M’not gonna ask you to just jump into a relationship with me again, that wouldn’t be fair. But, if you’re willing, I’d really like to take you out on a date. Privately, just us; I wanna show you the kind of man I am now. Show you what you deserve. And we can see where things go.” He said, eyes gazing into yours, his hands now in yours.

You let the shy grin spread across your face. “I’d really like that, Jack.” you said, his face lighting up. He engulfed you in a big hug, kissing your forehead. You smushed your face against his chest, your hands gripping his back as you sighed deeply. You had missed this. Missed him. Missed his smell, how he felt, his voice, all of it. The two of you stayed like that for a little while before you pulled apart.

You silently stared at eachother, re-familiarizing yourselves with one another. Your eyes gazed over the freckles that adorned his face, his perfectly trimmed beard, his soft brown curls that perfectly framed his face.

“Fuck it.” you whispered, and pulled him into a kiss. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the butterflies in your stomach that gave you the courage, but you didn’t care at this point. You had missed him so much, and clearly so had he, so why deny yourself the simple pleasures in life?

You felt Jack relax into the kiss, one of his hands coming up to cradle your face as the other one was set on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. He hummed in relief, soft lips parting and meshing, parting and meshing, like he had been deprived of the meal that was you - which he had been.

“Thank fuck, I’ve been thinking about this all night - all year really-” Jack said inbetween kisses. You giggled, letting out a “me too” before kissing him again.

The kisses started to get a bit heated, so you pulled away, reminding the both of you that you were at a public event.

“Let’s get outta here.” Jack murmured, kissing and nipping at your neck a little.

“Jack, you’re still up for another category, and I’m here with SZA, I’m not gonna just ditch her.” You huffed.

“I don’t care, I’ll have someone accept it for me, just wanna be with you. Plus, looks like she already knows.” Jack nodded in SZA’s direction.

You turned around, and saw SZA, now with Lizzo sitting next to her, the both of them smirking and winking at you. You grinned, and turned back around to Jack.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” you told him, grabbing the drinks you had ordered.

“Go do your thing, I ain’t goin nowhere without you, baby.” Jack said, unable to stop grinning.

You bit your lip, smiling at him before turning around and heading back to your table.

“Hey girlfriend.” SZA and Lizzo said simultaneously, with a teasing tone in their voices.

“Hey y’all-” you responded, setting the drinks down on the table.

“Soo-” you started before SZA cut you off.

“Girl we already been knew, go ‘head, get your man back.” She squealed at you. You laughed and hugged them.

“Take the bottle too, have fun.” she told you.

“No! I bought that for you! It’s your night-” You tried to reason with her, but she wasn’t having none of it.

“I got my awards baby, I’m good. Now go get that man!” She urged you. You told them you loved them and said your goodbyes, champagne bottle in hand as you made your way towards Jack.

“Ready?” he said, taking your free hand in his.

“Mhmm.” you looked up at him and he gave you a kiss before leading you out the venue.

The two of you snuck out into an SUV, which would take you to Jack’s hotel a few blocks away. Jack popped the champagne open and gave you a sip before taking one himself.

“Missed you, my lil’ Movie Star.” he said caressing your leg, leaning into your side.

“Missed you too, sweet face.” You smiled, kissing his cheek a few times, making Jack blush.

Jack was on you the second the elevator doors closed. He quickly lifted you up in his arms, setting you on the small steel railing of the elevator, pressing you into the corner to hold you up as he attacked your neck.

“Fuck Jack, so good-” you sighed, wrapping your legs around his hips, bringing him closer to you.

“God, I’ve missed this so much; missed you so much-” he groaned, grinding his hips into yours. His mouth was everywhere, on your lips, your neck, your cheeks, your breasts, he couldn’t get enough of you.

The elevator dinged, signaling you were at his floor. He reluctantly got off you, and you whined.

“More-” you pleaded before he sat you down, heels hitting the floor.

“We’re almost there princess, cmon.” Jack took your hand in his and lead you out the elevator and down the hall to his room. He struggled with getting his room key out his suit jacket as you kissed his neck, licking and sucking, wanting all his attention. He finally pulled it out and opened the door, letting you in first.

As soon as the door slammed, he was on you again in a flash. Your back was up against the wall as he kissed you; it was needy and passionate, just how you liked it.

“Cmon, cmon, bed sweetheart, bed.” He said, lifting you in his arms again, giving your ass a smack, and you squealed, laughing with him.

He gently dropped you on the bed, and you laid there for a few seconds as he took in the sight of you.

“So beautiful.. so fuckin beautiful, and all mine.” He said before climbing onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs, kissing you. Every kiss felt electric, like the second you were apart felt like you were losing energy, but when he kissed you, you were refilled again.

“Jack, please, I need you.” You moaned.

“Okay baby, I got you.” He promised.

He swiftly got you out of your dress, and got out of his suit. He gently hung your dress on the back of his door, after you pointedly told him to be careful because ‘its Mugler’. Jack walked back to the edge of the bed, and knelt down, his arms sliding under your thighs and pulling you closer to him.

“God your pussy smells fucking delicious, can’t believe I’ve gone a year without her.” He groaned before leaning down and licking a stripe up your folds.

“Oh fuck-” you squirmed in delight.

He attached his lips to your clit and began sucking and licking, making a wet mess of you.

“Missed this sweet pussy, you taste so good, Y/N.” he rambled. You whimpered at that, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, biting your lip so hard you didn’t understand how you hadn’t drawn blood yet.

“Louder. Let me hear you, baby.” Jack ordered before going back to making out with your pussy.

You did as he wished, letting your moans free from your throat, completely falling into the feeling he gave you.

“Attagirl.” He growled, nuzzling his face further into you.

Your eyes rolled back when he finally fucked two fingers into you. The stretch of his girthy digits rubbing against your walls threw you into the deep end.

“Fuck, yes! S-so close Jack, please, please l-let me...” you cried out.

“Cum for me, cum for me pretty girl.” Jack commanded.

That was all it took before you felt the tidal wave of your orgasm crash over you. You felt your legs shake, and writhed around in the sheets before your comedown approached.

It was silent except for your heavy breathing, but you felt Jack move up into the bed next to you.

“I wish you could see how you look right now.” Jack broke the silence.

“How do I look?” You said panting, one eye opening and peeking up at his boyish face.

“Ethereal.” he sighed softly before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Like an angel. My angel.” he said.

He stared at you for a moment, and you could tell he was holding back a little, he wanted to say something, but was a little nervous about it.

“You can say it. Tell me, Jack.” You reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay. You won’t scare me easily.” you smiled at him, kissing his bare shoulder.

He took a deep breath before looking at you again.

“I love you.” he confessed. “I love you, haven’t stopped loving you since we broke up.”

“Wanna know something?” You asked him, scratching his beard lightly, just the way he liked it.

“Mhmm.” Jack purred, urging you to continue.

“I love you too.” You said with a grin. “Never stopped.” You whispered before pulling him into a loving kiss. He hummed into the kiss, and you felt him smile as he rolled over onto you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” he told you, kissing you deeply.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” you repeated back to him. You felt a weight off your chest now, reveling in the shared love between the two of you. Everything felt right again.

“Off-” you whined, your foot digging at the elastic band of his boxers.

“Anything, for you.” He declared, sliding his boxers off.

Jack laid back down between your legs, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back into a sweet kiss. Jack started to grind his dick against your folds, tip hitting your clit over and over again. The room filled with moans and gasps, your slick completely coating his cock.

“Jack, please, I need you, please put it in already.” You whined desperately.

“Okay baby, okay.” he kissed you.

He leant his hips back a little before slowly thrusting into you, his thick tip stretching you out deliciously. You let out a sigh as he bottomed out, and your mind went fuzzy. Jack stayed like that for a minute, letting you readjust to him as he kissed your neck and face, humming to himself and whispering ‘I love you’. He started to move, groaning at the way you squeezed him.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He praised, as he slowly thrusted into you.

“God Jack, you’re so big- f-fuck..” you moaned, clawing at his back.

“You take it so well; so fucking well. Breathe. Breathe with me baby.” he encouraged you, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Let me see those eyes. C’mon baby, let me see you.” He begged in his raspy voice.

You opened your eyes to meet his, full of love, nudging his nose against yours before speeding his thrusts a little.

“Fuck, just like that, yes Jack-” you cried out. His tip was hitting that spot in you, and you were close.

“Good girl, I can tell you’re close Y/N, squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.” he coaxed.

“This is yours, all yours, you deserve this.” he kept babbling. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at his praise, he always knew the right things to say. “Cum for me sweetheart, give it all to me.” He told you.

You cried his name out as you felt your orgasm crash over you again. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye as you laid in the euphoric feeling. You could tell Jack was close as his thrusts were starting to falter, and he started to babble more.

“Who’s pussy is this? Hmm?” He said, grip on your hip tightening as he pounded into you, brows furrowing in concentration.

“S’yours, daddy. S’your pussy.” you gasped, encouraging him.

“It’s daddy’s pussy? S’daddy’s cunt, yeah?” Jack asked, tugging at your lip with his teeth.

“Yes, all yours Jack, m’all yours-” you told him, keeping the eye contact.

“Fuckfuckfuck, m’gonna cum-” He told you.

“Cum in me, Jack. Want you to cum in me.” you whispered, to which Jack let out a growl, his grip on you tight as he finally came with a broken groan of your name.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, heavy breaths and sweaty bodies, completely engulfed in eachother. Peaceful, that’s what it was. You felt peaceful as Jack left soft kisses up your neck and jaw, and you raked your nails against his scalp, making him purr.

“I love you.” He finally spoke.

“I love you.” you responded.

He kissed you once more before finally pulling out, and you let out a gasp as you felt his cum leak out of you.

Jack had a prideful smile on his face as he watched it happen. “So fuckin’ hot.” he smeared his cum against your clit, making you whine from the sensitivity.

He laughed and got up, peed, and then came back with a warm wet washtowel. He cleaned you up, and kissed your knee whilst doing so.

“C’mon, go pee.” He tapped your thigh, pulling at your arms to sit up in the bed.

“Mmmm, tired.” You said, leaning your head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around you.

“We’ll cuddle after, I promise.” He said kissing your hair. “C’mon.” he said.

You tried to stand but your legs buckled, much like a new born giraffe, and you fell back into his lap.

“Oops. Sorry bout that, lemme help you.” he laughed, carrying you in his arms as he brought you to the toilet. He sat you down and you peed, cleaned up, and then he picked you up again, carrying you to the bed.

Jack wrapped the two of you up in the sheets, and snuggled with you, letting out a content sigh.

“So much for taking it slow.” You giggled.

“Don’t care, you’re mine again. Slow, fast, I don’t care however we do this, I’m not letting you go this time.” He laughed beside you, pulling you closer into him.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” you smiled at him.

“I can’t get enough of you saying that. Love it.” he gushed.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, Jack.” you nudged his nose with yours, kissing him softly.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, Y/N.” he repeated back to you, giggling and cuddling until you both drifted to sleep.

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Tag list: @hoodharlow @moody4world @watercolorskyy @lcandothisallday @harlowthot @triplexdoublex @thinkingaboutjharlow @bbyharlow @jackharlows-world @primadxna-girl @curlyhairclub @dessmxsworld @inluvwithladybug @babyharleezy @thysagclub @harlowcomehome @rebelxsun @jackharloww @harlowsbby

#anon #jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic

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lilietsblog · 3 months ago

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suddenly randomly thinking about Max Frei's Labyrinth of Echo (finally a Russian fantasy book actually translated into English!!! rejoice!!!) and tbh every isekai author should be legally required to read it for like. Educational purposes. so they have a bit more imagination about it

it IS in fact an isekai, or portal fantasy perhaps fits better. its so weird and good?

the protagonist: a guy. yes, i know, it's sad. but he's sad and cute and it's honestly just good. relatable without being an everyman. the sort of guy who would be a tragic poet except he's very self conscious about this part of his personality and prefers to be funny instead. hes very good at being funny. his narrative voice is fantastic i promise you will like it

the method: our protagonist had been having the same vivid and memorable dream for years where he meets with another guy in a very odd looking but very comfortable cafe and has drinks with him and it's very soothing. one day the dream guy makes him a job offer, and gives him extremely specific concerningly-kidnapped-by-fae-like instructions to follow when hes awake. when the protagonist wakes up hes got little enough going on in his life that he decides hes got pretty much nothing to lose by trying to follow the instructions. to his bafflement, it works. hes now in another world where hes got a job offer and a boss who summoned him from another world and is very self-satisfied about it. dont ask why he wanted an employee from another world (actually, do ask. very much do ask. its important and hes not telling you the full truth at all)

the genre: magic detective mystery. not always murder mystery mind you, theres plenty of fun magic stuff that can be concerning and require investigation without anyone being dead. mostly murder, but really not always. and yeah the protagonist is a magic cop but its like. its like a treatise on what police should be like in an ideal world where its actually good. and you really do need some people to do the job of extremely capable mages capable of untangling whatever bullshit people accidentally or deliberately wrought on themselves and/or people around them (they also have non-magic police. those are worse, though still not to irl degree, because this magic world has some wish fulfillment ass laws. not quite fully automated gay luxury communism but they're getting there)

the magic system: the mc learns two, but is made aware that a significantly larger amount exists. basically every country in his new world has its own chosen special magic system. also theres 'true' magic thats the kind of thing that can summon you from another world and is the coolest. not geographically locked. our world meanwhile is a magic dystopia and no-one here realizes it except for people who do, mostly subconsciously, but they can do jack-all about it so thats how depression happens so much. the local magic system the mc learns actually has clearly defined 'levels' ('steps') and divides neatly into two kinds, 'black' and 'white' - except instead of any good/bad connotations 'black' deals with material objects and 'white' with abstract concepts. the neatly divided thing is to the point where they have pocket sensors that tell you what step-and-color spells have been cast around here (v helpful for magic cops, except of course when the magic system involved is not the local one. well at least they tell you that fact then). theres no litrpg elements though, and what step magic the mc can cast is not really treated as important. its just a worldbuilding element

the woke: eh. goes with the weird russian-specific-i-think trope "specifically elves are bisexual/gay but they intermix with humans and thats why some humans are too". ableism... bad. very bad. the whole thing is founded on a deep understanding of particular kinds of being non-neurotypical but very, uh... ignorant that that's what it is. soo bad. fatphobia: very rarely comes up i think, but, uh, also. sexism... sincere well-intentioned attempt to worldbuild a society without it but i wouldnt say it worked. fun attempt though. queerphobia: actually a pretty damn successful attempt to worldbuild a society without it (a society that the mc is very much not from and periodically smacks into this, which is always fun), though i feel it could do with more non-cis-or-straight main cast. my favorite part is the part where the protagonist is told to crossdress for infiltration anonymity one time and is weird about it in a classic transmisogynistic sort of way and everyone around him is like ??? @ the entire thing like what? whats funny we dont get it. whats embarrassing. why are you being so weird about it. what IS the problem. and then he asks himself the question and realizes there's no reason and proceeds to not be weird about it henceforth. uses the disguise as an opportunity to bond with his love interest that he had just had magic drama with, and she loves the idea and approves fully. girl-boy interactions are awkward but hell yeah they can have a girls' night. also as an opportunity to prank his flirty coworker who is about 15 minutes into lying his ass off to this cute girl who is totally into him before the protagonist finally can't take it anymore and breaks down laughing. the coworker finds this also hilarious once he figures it out and it becomes a good prank memory between them

the power fantasy: yes. the mc is mega super special. hes not the first person to ever be so mega super special and theres even specialized predators that go after people like him (his boss is like, halfway there) so the power fantasy is well tempered by challenges. also the genre is inherently investigative so the mc being super powerful is not always particularly. relevant. to the challenge at hand. like its nice that when he figures out who the culprit is he can win the fight no problem but the main conflict is usually figuring out what even happened so yeah. good. also the dose of existential horror this book loves to pair the power fantasy shit with is a great balancer too

the humor: this is the first book in my life that actually made me laugh out loud, to tears. like i am not usually very expressive when Experiencing Stories, i never cry over books or shit like that, and i had never made an out loud noise over a book since i'd learned how to read not-out-loud. until that book. those books. they are hilarious. they are ridiculous. it goes super well with the existential horror

the language shit: this is the fun one and the one that spurred me writing this post! so the backstory is that the mc was talking to his future boss in his dreams right so they already somehow spoke the same language. and this doesnt become a problem when the guy comes over either. he understands the words, be they a different language or the same one (this is never really addressed in detail, which given the fae vibe i'm honestly fine with). HOWEVER the new culture has ALL ITS OWN IDIOMS. sooo many of them. the irl author is bilingual and has lived in another country before writing this and you can tell. the mc picks up local idioms more and more over time but early on it often happens that he says some idiom of his own and his friends and coworkers instantly turn into a descending horde of gremlins like "OOOH WHAT DOES THAT MEAN" and after he does his best to explain they just. start using it. mixed with their own idioms. colored by their own understanding. questionably correctly. they eat that shit up. at one point the guy brings over his movie collection and a dvd player to watch it on (it works in another world because magic, it makes sense in context) and thus introduces his coworkers to Another World's Pop Culture which they react to the way you would to being introduced to another world's pop culture. he regrets it immensely forever after

the romance: alas, the mc is tragically straight (and is incapable of being normal about learning other people aren't, at least until he's given 15 minutes to sit with the fact it's perfectly normal in this new world. its actually really satisfying to read tbh). his turbulent love life however introduces us to two absolutely IMMACULATE girls (and they meet each other through him and instantly become besties btw) who have their own shit going on. theres never drama in the sense of romantic triangle or jealousy but theres the FUN drama along the lines of "magic rules say we cant see each other but we're still coworkers so lets figure out how to painfully and caringly be friends" and "i can't survive here. i have to leave. i love you but i cannot be where you are right now" and "sooo i panicked and now im basically dead so no we're no longer dating but i still exist in this other place so come see me sometime actually". just. fucking ace. (technically theres a love triangle for approximately five minutes between the mc and his flirty coworker both flirting with this girl but she was never actually into the flirty coworker and he knows it so when she actually is into the mc hes like ok fine fair enough). the series DOES HAVE OTHER FEMALE CHARACTERS BTW. and they are awesome. not on a 1-to-1 basis with male characters alas but they are soo good

the vibes: immaculate. lovely romantic urban mystery. sometimes the ghost eats local children but sometimes the city just has a different street layout at night and some locations are only accessible at that time and that's just normal. sometimes the culprit is a restaurant owner who figured out how to make people into super extra delicious food with magic and sometimes the culprit is a group of idiot teenagers who found a description of a ritual in an ancient book and decided it would be a great idea to try it, and sometimes the culprit is an ancient dying beast from the depths of the ocean that accidentally got stuck on a ship's prow and brought to foreign shores where people don't know how to be careful of it. just. incredible

does he get to come back home: yes! at least twice that I can remember! both are horror. the conflict is that he desperately needs to get away from there if he is to survive. not in a 'magic soul sucking will actually die' sense but in a 'depression is a deadly disease' sense. it's really cool tbh

the bad parts that maybe need a trigger warning: i mean, the existential horror gets pretty bad and i cant reread some of the books, though that's not what i want to note most. the BAD shit: ableism. fatphobia. the sideways kinds of racism like exoticization, 'savages', white savior bullshit. the 'main' culture the mc lands in are the white people of the setting and everyone else. uh. uhhhhh. varies. the author put all their pussy into fun imagination lands but they do not know a lot about non-european cultures around the world and it reeeeally shows

#labyrinths of echo #max frei #russian fantasy #books #literature

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hold-him-down · 1 year ago

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Belleview Chapter One: Welcome to Belleview

Notes: ~11 years after the beginning of The Fighter, this is not a Luke/Leo story but is in-universe.

TW: Institutionalized slavery, nonsexual nudity, starvation mention, human euthanasia mention, degrading language, all the things.

✥ ✥ ✥

From the outside, it is a beautiful campus. Elegant in its simplicity, with three brick buildings forming a crescent at the mouth of a long, rose-bush lined drive that intersects wrought iron gates.

Today, police swarm it, more for the optics than anything else. They’re not here to enact change, or to start building moral credit, but they are here, and so he smiles, shakes hands, introduces himself.

He opens the double-paned glass door, which sits just in front of a set of reinforced steel bars, and he’s immediately met with the silence of a reception area from which all of its workforce has been escorted out.

Almost all.

“Lincoln Prescott?” says a singular man, in his mid-twenties on his best day, peeking around the corner. He’s nervous, skittish even. Fidgeting palms run down his sweater and he smiles, but it’s not the smile of someone who’s happy, welcoming, comfortable, warm.

Lincoln returns the gesture and nods. He doesn’t extend his hand. Instead, he turns over the key he’s just been handed, and he reads the man’s name-tag.

Jared Fisher, Handler. Level Two.

Jared smiles sheepishly and takes off the name-badge. “I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I guess… I guess it’s not really needed anymore.” He holds it out to Lincoln, who stares at it for several seconds, before he sets it on the counter behind him.

“Uh,” Jared says, cutting through the silence of the massive waiting area. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m sure, that you’re not– I get it, I mean. I know I’m the enemy here.”

Lincoln narrows his eyes, shaking his head once.

“They said if I– Uhh, they said they’ll take it into c– consideration, I guess. When the trials start. When… whatever is going to happen, happens.” He swallows, and Lincoln feels something that is related to sympathy, but not quite it. He lets that feeling fizzle quickly. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone," Jared says quietly.

There’s silence again. Lincoln lets it settle over him, watching the ex-handler’s fidgeting intensify, before he says, “Oh. You’re waiting for me to speak.”

Jared shrinks.

When the final nail in the coffin of support for the trade and consumption of government-sanctioned slavery had been hammered in, there wasn’t the type of frenzy that anyone expected. That morning, people, by and large, woke up, had their coffee, showered. They caught their trains to work, they read their news and they watched, closely, but there wasn’t an uproar. They stole glances at their phones and monitors for updates, for news, for what happens next.

Truth be told, it had been heading this way for a while. Within the last ten years, individual states had begun passing legislation that, in hindsight, paved the path for widespread challenges to the system, led by a few congresspeople who finally woke the fuck up. Things turned violent early, with protests, rallies, boycotts, demonstrations… everything imaginable.

Videos of workers being tortured, followed by videos of workers recounting their own stories, began making national headlines. Consumers of workers’ labor fought hard to sway public opinion back to the positive outcomes the system had brought the country, but with each passing week, with each new video of a worker strapped to a table being violated in unimaginable ways, it was a losing battle.

As local legislation was passed, certain states became a kind of safe-haven for runaways. And eventually, things started going federal.

The most significant bill, the one that fully outlawed the use of worker labor and reinstated the ‘freedom’ of current workers, was going to be codified that morning. It wasn’t unexpected, at that point, but still, the infrastructure, the plan, was… well, it had holes, to say the least.

The workers who were deemed functional, by some arbitrary metric, would be relocated to massive government-owned housing units. They would share rooms by the half dozen, be fed, given medical attention, and slowly be reintegrated into society. No one knew exactly how that would work, but it had been successful in the states that had already outlawed worker labor (with some notable exceptions), so the plan, half-assed as it was, was set into motion.

Former safehouses were repurposed as halfway houses for those who were less “independent.”

Individual volunteers were gathered who would open their homes to those who were unable to care for themselves but didn't pose any significant safety or medical risk.

In the days leading up to the vote for reinstatement of worker rights, when it was clear how things were going to go, people did go into a frenzy. Hospitals scrambled to hire, doctor’s offices scrambled to modify policy, the call for volunteers to offer shelter, food, medical assistance, jobs… it was madness.

But that morning, the morning the final nail landed, it was quiet.

Jared leads Lincoln down a narrow hallway, spouting off information as he does. The linoleum tiled floor is clean, but peels around the edges. The walls are white, chipped along the corners and where the doorframes meet the drywall. The ceiling is white, but there’s a yellow cast. The fluorescent lights that line the halls give it a sort of eerie post-apocalyptic vibe, and it’s fitting.

The building, Belleview, is eerily quiet. There’s no obvious screaming coming from within, so it’s already better than he expected.

Jared slaps his keycard against a box outside a set of double doors, and Lincoln takes a breath. The volunteers are gathering outside by now. His group of nurses, doctors, caretakers. They could be with him, but he wanted this run-through alone. To give him time to make sure the plan that he spent the last week finessing would work.

Jared stops at the first door, and pushes a button outside of it, bringing to life a screen. There’s a name on the top, and Lincoln glances through the information he’s shown. Jared presses another button, and the door unlocks audibly, the light above it turning from red to green.

Inside is a man, with nothing else. Brown hair, blue eyes. He doesn’t look at them.

“This one can get aggressive.” Jared’s voice is matter of fact, as he points out the information on the tablet. “They come here to… you know, to be of whatever use they can be until they…” he whispers, and Lincoln offers him the briefest of glances. He regrets it immediately. “Expire.”

Lincoln turns his attention back to the screen, and so Jared continues. “We have 21, uh… residents, right now. I think that’s what we’re supposed to call them now. They were… well, you know. They were workers, but the rejects, I guess. They’re in… they’re in various states of um…”

Lincoln clears his throat tersely, throwing a warning glance to the ex-handler.

“Well, okay. I’m sure you’ve been briefed, and if not, I’m sure you will be.” He begins walking again, letting the last door close without another glance, as he approaches the next. “We tried to take as good of care of them as we could. They’re fed and watered and we tried to... whenever we could, some of us tried to offer them some comfort.”

He stops at the door. “Obviously, they’re here for a reason, so they don’t tend to be super… uh, super cooperative or trainable or anything. They’re usually just… they’re here for a short time, and then–” He stops himself this time, without the warning glance.

“We call this guy Tank, but I think his real name is Tyler, if that means anything to you.”

Lincoln nods. “Does it say here? Anywhere on here? What his name is?”

Jared fiddles with the screen for several seconds before it comes to a demographic page. It lists 20 inhabitants, and presumably, their room numbers.

“Look at that,” Jared says then, interrupting Lincoln’s review. “Looks like I was right, it is Tyler. That was a guess.”

Lincoln takes a breath, because there’s no benefit to causing a scene here. If Jared was offered leniency, then he was a handler who, at least on the surface, wasn’t as bad as he could have been.

“Anyway, this one used to be aggressive, too." The door opens and Jared gestures to the man who lays on his stomach, bandages across his back. "But now? Nothing going on in there.” He points to his own temples, and lets the door swing shut. He switches to the video feed, where Tyler stares into the camera.

Jared continues along to the next room, and Lincoln follows behind him, his thoughts racing.

Lincoln Prescott was already in his car on his way to the site he’d been assigned to oversee before they even finalized things in the White House. It’s a temporary solution to a very serious problem, they said. It would take ten to fifteen days to get those who were in no shape to get to a halfway house the medical attention they needed and find suitable placements for them.

In the meantime, they were safest where they were. He was needed to help organize the volunteers and medical personnel, and to act as a sort of director of the temporary housing facility.

So he drove. He knew it would be bad, maybe the worst of the worst. He had been briefed. He was given a stack of files of the inhabitants that he would be overseeing. He looked it over that night, and every night since then. He spent the last six days memorizing every face, every backstory.

It was a site to house those that the government had deemed unable to be placed, for one reason or another. Too violent, too unpredictable, too difficult to be trained. From what Lincoln could gather, these workers served any and all purposes. Their primary reason for existence was, it seemed, to trial training techniques, to trial drugs, to motivate the workers who were difficult, to show that there were worse fates.

They ranged in ages from 19-26. None survived longer.

“Doctor Prescott?” Jared asks, from somewhere far away. Lincoln looks up from the tablet, and Jared is already down the hall at the next door. Lincoln takes a breath, biding his time. They’ve gone through eighteen of the men, with Jared's special commentary on each of them. Twice, Jared had promised that he wasn't a bad person, and that the culture had been one thing, but now it was another, and he was ready to pivot.

Only once had Lincoln felt himself snap, and had to excuse himself before serious harm was done.

Some of the men were given the accommodation of a bed, some of them were given clothing, some had rotten food in their cells, some had broken bones, open wounds. Some slept fitfully, and some slept so completely still that Lincoln thought that they might not be alive at all. Jared had assured him, in those moments, that they probably were.

Jared opens the door to the twentieth room, with a small, “We call this one ‘Felix.’ I think you’ll like him,” as he does. The man, short blonde hair and dark brown eyes and at least forty pounds less than his frame should support, blinks himself awake. He sits in the corner of the tiny room and stares at Lincoln. He tries to smile, but the tremors that rock his body make it hard to buy. He doesn't wear any clothes, and has one of the DLS-issued shock collars affixed to his neck. His ribs shake when he breathes too deep, but again, he tries to smile, even as he backs further into the corner.

Jared is speaking to him, but Lincoln doesn’t clock exactly what’s being said. The man looks so afraid, but still, he lifts his fingers in a sort of wave, shaking as he does. Lincoln waves back, offering him a small smile in return.

“We’re not allowed to euthanize them,” Jared is saying.

“What?”

“When they hit the end, I mean. We have to give them enough food, give them enough water. If they choose to stop eating or drinking or… whatever, that’s on them. We can’t assist them. Once they’re too far gone, sometimes we’ll just stop trying to get them to eat, and let them go.”

He thought, by now, that he’d heard it all. His eyes widen. “Is that where we’re at with him?”

Jared shrugs. “He’s sick. The director said he’s gonna go any day now, but it’s better if we don’t directly cause that.”

Lincoln doesn’t attempt to keep the hatred out of his eyes.

“He knows,” Jared says. “They all do. Once we stop pulling them for testing, it’s only a matter of time. He wants you to pull him, though,” he continues. “He wants to know it’s not his time yet. He wants to show you he can still be of use. He doesn’t really speak anymore, but he tries to be sweet, so we will keep him in rotation.”

“Stop talking,” Lincoln says then, his fist in a tight ball but, remarkably, not around the man’s throat. Jared’s mouth snaps shut.

“Show me the last one, and then you’re finished here.”

As they retreat away from the man’s cell, the door closes behind them, and Lincoln watches the hope leave his eyes.

They make quick work of the last door, and the weasley man leads Lincoln back through the main wing, mumbling about how there were several wings they didn’t tour, but he at least got to see all the residents, and how if he has questions, he is more than happy to take a call, day or night, and how…

✥ ✥ ✥

The volunteers stand in a haphazard group, each with a color coded name-badge to at least give Lincoln a starting point as to their role. He begins by directing the doctors and nurses to rooms, providing instructions on how to access the rooms, providing instructions on how to access the medical files, providing whatever information he can.

They’re working on finding placements for each of these boys, he tells them. But they all require intensive, specific treatment. As they find placements, they’ll be housed, and once they’ve placed the last boy, the volunteers will be reassigned.

As the last of the volunteers heads inside to get their own bearings, Lincoln takes a step back, regarding the innocuous building.

“I guess that’s that,” Jared says from behind him, taking a step forward and extending his hand out once more. Lincoln looks down at it, shoving his hands into his pockets, as Jared mumbles, “Welcome to Belleview.”

UNTITLED SYSTEM COLLAPSE STORY TAGLIST: @pigeonwhumps @peachy-panic @whump-cravings

#belleview #institutionalized slavery #this is going somewhere #its going places #maybe not to the pulitzer prize people #but places #nonsexual nudity #torture mention #government stuff #it's a set up ok #they'll be sweet soft guys eventually

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 7 months ago

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no because I spent less than a third of my school years in Brazil and yet whenever I do maths in my head I still always resort back to Portuguese

no because I always speak Portuguese with my mom and we almost exclusively listen to Brazilian music at home but the first time we went back to Brazil after covid just listening to all the people around me casually speak in Portuguese almost made me burst into tears

no because one time I was sleeping at my grandma's and I still hadn't completely woken up and the birds were singing (we used to have australian budgies) and for a moment I thought I was still living there, at my old apartment. I don't even know how many years ago this day happened and my memory is absolute shit but I still remember the feeling of bittersweet grief when I woke up properly

no because I always get so hyped whenever I hear someone casually speaking Brazilian Portuguese like even if I don't outwardly acknowledge them just hearing it always fills me with so much joy

no because whenever I forget another word in Portuguese my heart breaks a little

no because even if I do my hair the exact same way here and there it still comes out with a completely different texture (it looks better over there in case you were wondering btw)

no because I mostly speak Portuguese with my mom and I didn't even realize that some of the words I use are actually super outdated

the point being: I really appreciate that there are so many characters that come from different countries in Stormlight Archive, and that Sanderson has clearly thought a lot about their different cultures and religions and politics and worldbuilding in general. however. i don't think he quite realizes how personal a place and a language can be. like obviously my experiences are far from universal, not to mention very different from theirs (much much less trauma for one lol), but especially when we get a pov from one of those characters I can't help but think that there is always something.... lacking? missing?

let shallan complain about her hair and skin routine not working the same anymore ever since she moved away from her home. let lunamor be a bit resentful of his new family for not even trying to learn his real name. let The Lopen forget more words in alethi now that he's surrounded by his herdasian cousins again. let shallan not be able to properly talk about her drawings in the way she wants to whenever adolin asks because she learnt all the proper words in her vadan art book. let there be foreign members of bridge four who adore alethkar and those who hate it and those who feel a bit of both at the same time.

dunno. i know these are just small details, but i noticed that these are small details that matter to me (and I can imagine that many people with a foreign background may feel similarly?)

#this is inspired by the increasing number of times where hearing their native tongue for the first time in months if not years #only inspired the reaction: “i needed a moment to rewire my brain back into [insert language]”#like i notice that its literally easier to talk about difficult/overly personal stuff in english rather than any of my mother tongues #there is just something about your native language that is so so special and despite all the great worldbuilding that is an aspect i miss :#brandon sanderson #stormlight archive #cosmere #shallan davar #shallan kholin #bridge four #the lopen #sigzil #etc etc im sure i missed a bunch lmao

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careyakane · 5 months ago

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Big Sur - July 3rd

Spent a night back on Paulo Colorado road just south of Monterey. Big Sur is a women I’ve come to understand. Just after sunset all you must do is look at her silhouetted bluffs as they fall from the sky into the sea and you will understand what I mean. We set up camp just above Lyods house. He passed a few months back and now the home he built with his own two hands lies in limbo between friends and potential buyers. The scrap yard has been cleared and the orchards are growing thick with weeds. Time as always is passing. This place as it always has is changing. All that is different is my noticing of it, my account of it… Otherwise this is no different than anywhere else at any given time. And even then, someone is noticing.

Two friends (Kayla and Jules) from back home rode with me from Santa Barbara. Kayla was an unexpected friend after school. A perfect example of how insignificant relationships can become one of the few friends you have in a short period of time. She never asks anything of me and in some ways she reminds me of Ella. Her brightness and bloom in this life contrasted by an ability to become cold and sharp at the drop of a hat around the wrong people. She has loved and I feel I only have time for those who have loved lately. I don’t have to explain myself as much to these sort of people. I don’t need to justify my actions to them.

Jules flew with me from New York. She has been a good friend for close to a decade now. I have no intention to sleep with her and I thought she was under the same understanding but yet last night she lodged herself close to me and I grew stiff and weighed the consequences of sleeping with her. I decided against it for many reasons and woke up glad at that decision. She is a rare breed of friend and far from what I want in a partner. I find it hard to imagine as I’m sure many religious folk would understand, sleeping with anyone I cant see as a long term partner. We all spent the majority of the day driving along the coast stopping at odd pull offs. One took us under a familiar eucalyptus grove occupied by monarchs. We waded through a stream that led us out to the sea. It’s rare on this stretch of coast to find yourself on the shoreline. Cliffs hundreds of feet tall seem to barre the way protecting their precious sea. Nonetheless a handful of people had found their ways out to this lone stretch of sand. A group of three girls who dressed as if they were headed to a country club or sorority gathering and Two young boys of maybe seven who stared like stones at Jules as she lay unclothed under the sun. I laughed at the sight of a familiar experience painted into boyhood. (Story continues in my head)

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angelwishess · 3 months ago

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The One Who Sings of Freedom.

Impulsive, somewhat tactless, a little childish and a burning desire for adrenaline— Everyone knows Kyra is as free as a bird! But even she has some things about herself she’d rather keep hidden

‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ˖ Rambling about Kyra’s backstory !! Loredrop time !!! (+ side notes and details at the end ♡)

The life of a princess from her birth is well defined. She must humbly serve her country, play the part she has been assigned. From the moment she was born, her life was already decided for her.

The 6th in line of the Lovelace family, her mother, the great Queen beloved by all, sadly passed away after giving birth to her. Plagued with paranoia for her wellbeing, Kyra’s father forbid her from ever stepping foot outside of the palace walls.

Despite having 5 other siblings, she was never very close to any of them, plus her father was much stricter on her than the rest of her siblings which strained their relationship even more.

Having just about absolutely nothing to do all day, she turned to filling her head with fairytales. Fantastical stories of grand adventures in far off lands, with magic spells, daring swordfights, royals in disguise and creatures that feed into her wild imagination.

And oh, she absolutely fell for it all. The idea of it, of adventure and excitement. Of new, strange things around every corner. She wanted to experience it for herself, wanted to face it all first hand. She dreamed of dancing with faeries, swimming with mermaids and adventuring alongside a chimera.

Yet no matter how much she yearns for it, the reality is that she will never be able to gain the freedom she so desires. She won’t ever be able to scrape her knees, to climb up tall trees and watch from above. Because she is a princess, and she has a duty to attend to. Her purpose is to serve her country, to humbly, compliantly do whatever they tell her to do for the sake of their country and their people.

Kyra has a heart full of wonder, of desire and want for things much greater than her world. But she will never be able to show it, for she is whoever her country needs her to be.

Do not speak unless spoken to. Actually, don’t speak at all. Why bother when her voice seems to mean nothing to everyone else? Why bother when her fate to mindlessly enact her role as a princess is unavoidable?

She’ll throw away all of her meaningless desires, her dreams and wishes. Because she isn’t supposed to have them in the first place, how selfish of her is it to dream, right?

Even so, she cant help it. And on one fateful day she finally had enough. Promised to a prince… She knew it was going to happen eventually, but honestly it still didnt feel real. It was cruel, she thought. But even with her mind reeling with countless thoughts, words she wanted to scream out— she swallowed it all and responded with a nod.

Only to later cry out to the sky, to the stars. Her only friends, and she wished. Wished on a shooting star— so close, yet so far. Much like her own freedom.

…Who would’ve known that when she woke up, she’d be in the world that shes desired to go to for so very long?

For once, she finally felt as if she belonged. She found somewhere she could finally be herself, without the crushing weight of expectations, and responsibilities.

And for the very first time in her life, she finally experienced what it was like to live.

And she felt like she belonged. How free she felt, finally able to be herself without hesitation.

Impulsive because she can finally do whatever she wants, brave and reckless because she can finally prove herself to be stronger than anyone thought she was, outspoken and chatty because she can finally speak for herself, and a little childish because she was never allowed to be one.

Free, because she was never so free before.

Even if its temporary… Even though she knows she’ll have to go “home” eventually… Maybe, just this once, she can let herself be selfish?

Until then, maybe she can still help others gain their “freedom”, even if she cant have hers.

To be kind despite everything, despite all the harsh words and the pressures of society you never asked for, that they cruelly laid upon your shoulders. To be forgiving even though for you there was no room for forgiveness from others when you made even the smallest of mistakes. To remain so full of love for others even when their eyes are filled with disdain for you…

…You’re so very strong, aren’t you, Kyra?

‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ˖ There are more details i’d love to add, but eh good enough AHAHAHA

Side notes and lil’ details!!!:

Since she was just freshly sent into NRC, during the Prologue and Book 1 she still acts somewhat like she did before being sent to Twisted Wonderland out of habit (think of Cinderella or Snow White, softspoken and elegant,). It was only around Book 2 where she finally began to let her personality shine and MAN that was total whiplash for everyone else LMAOO

I’d like to mention that in the “canon” storyline Kyra never actually mentions her being royalty. She doesn’t see it as something important enough to ever mention, and shes somewhat worried that people might start treating her like they did back then if she does tell them.

(Also, she just doesnt want to admit how “lame” her life was before.)

^^ this is actually rlly funny bcs theres a running gag where whenever someone mentions how much she acts like a fairytale princess, she just has to brush it off and be like “hahahaa.. haa.. yeaahh…”

Initially, Kyra disliked Ariston (Prince Charming Oc) because he reminded her of the prince she was supposed to be married to.

Kyra developed her affinity to animals because she wasnt really allowed to talk to anyone her age, so she spoke to the birds and forest critters whenever she could.

Because of her limited socialization, Kyra took some of her personality traits and mannerisms from the character’s she’d read in her books or watched in movies!!

Kyra literally only ever reads fairytales and fantasy books and nothing else. Nothing else can keep her attention. Its like ipad kids and those dancing fruits and vegtables.

Her backstory is inspired from several Disney songs, such as: When Will My Life Begin?, Belle (Reprise), Like Other Girls, A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes and Speechless

I only recently decided her backstory because im indecisive!!!

I wanted to make her Filipino actually so i can self project but uhhh i kind of have to make a fictional kingdom now for this to fit no guys she has filipino blood TRUST!!!

Kyra’s favorite food being burgers is just a funny lil detail to me bcs she definetly only tried one after being sent to NRC (again, strict dad, strict diet..) and she absolutely lost it and started rambling abt how good it is and everyone else just looked at her weird bcs… its just a burger girl calm down…

She actually thought Ramshackle was so cool. Like.. woah!! Just like my books!!! No way!!!!!!!

Floyd helps her be herself more. He doesn’t know it, but he really does help her in more ways than he realizes. ♡

She was close to the royal tailor who also enjoyed her company and was one of the only people to indulge her love of fairytales and ridiculous dreams.

She has HEAVY “bird in a birdcage” symbolism.

She definetly can act more proper n’ all that, but she just doesn’t want to LMAO, shes actually somewhat similar to Toph Beifong now rhat i think abt it oops

Yeah i just wanted to go full disney princess for her ngl… the idea of an impulsive adrenaline junkie with an army of forest critters with the purpose of chaos is just too funny to me to not do it

Shes supposed to come off as a “perfect pink princess” at first when people meet her, has a resting smiling face and a soft voice too so her actual personality sometimes freaks people out LMAOO shes a FREAK!!!

‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ˖ ermm okay ya i cant think of anything else !! That was alot ngl sorry HWHEHEAHA YAP SESSION OVER !!! Kyra i loev u i swea r..

#🎀! yap #🎀🕊️! kyra #twst #twst oc #yuusona #loredrop!!!! yippee!!!#yeah i stole the first line from Mulan 2 #fight me /j #ily kyra pls dont get married to a man u dont love !!#dw guys i refuse to let Floyra get a sad ending🫶🫶#i actually have fankids for them 😋😋#EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE I BELIEVE IN HER !!! (i say as i type out her backstory)

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dimaviks · 11 months ago

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••• rhysand's son x reader

••• orpheus, rhysand's son, is an emissary to a human city where he meets a spy. sm//ut.

With Orpheus, there was never any real way of knowing what he was thinking, of what horrible thing he might do next. It was hard dealing with the uncertainty of it all, of never knowing how he really felt. He'd been raised in a household where the only form of love could be found in violence. He was a male who did not share, who did not engage in things for the fun of it. Everything needed to have a purpose.

This fae male had arrived seven months back, part of a delegation on behalf of this newly occupied city. Human lands conquered by other humans, the force such a level of brutality some of the fae had refused to even deal with them. You were a spy, you'd told him. The only one you'd ever told. After a night he'd gotten so drunk and spilled his guts, confessing horrible secret after horrible secret. The next morning, you woke with your head on his chest, his arms around you tense as he considered everything you'd been told. You could practically hear the thoughts in his head, how he would need to kill you. Before he could, you spilled your secrets, offered things that would get you horrifically tortured if anyone found out. You'd been here for so long. Most of the spies sent out had been captured within two months. For you to last nearly a year was a true testament to your skill. One he couldn't help but feel pride for.

One that made his chest beam with pride. A quiet possession, he supposed. For now, at least. For now, you'd refuse to go with him, not while so many people were counting on you to smuggle food into the city. How many would starve without you? When this was over, when everything wasn't so horrible, he'd take you away. He didn't care where. Maybe to Night, at first, until whatever fallout came from your King had passed. There was no real threat from him, Orpheus knew, but he wasn't sure about you. If you knew how he felt too soon, you might run, take a new identity. Here, in these lands, you knew like the back of your hand, you could stay hidden forever.

You were bound to get caught sooner or later. Especially as their presence increased, their own spies fluttering through the city. Likewise, Orpheus was due back to Night. He wondered if it would be easier to try to find something on you, use a little force. He knew the second you were sure that you were caught, you'd be immediately on your way out of the city. Maybe he'd take you then. He can at least pretend the only reason was to keep you safe, he can pretend he doesn't imagine his hand tangled in your hair, placing feather soft kisses down the collum of your neck.

He stands behind you, keeping eye contact through the long mirror you stood in front of, a velvet black box in his hand. You shifted on heeled feet when his voice came out soft and sweet, completely at odds with the look in his eyes and the devious smile on his lips. "I have a gift for you," Part of you hated his gifts, how each one felt more claiming than the last. Your position here worked as long as no one knew. And Orpheus, territorial as his kind often were, hadn't exactly accepted that.

Like now, the dress you wore had the same color accented that Orpheus had on his jacket. The dress he'd given you. It felt stupid to wear it now, knowing how he was. How he'd wanted some claim on you. Especially after he found out you were only invited to this party by Jonas, a warrior from the invading country. He'd lived near you and had shopped at the same markets. It was easy to get your nails in.

You still wore the dress, refusing to take it off because you owned nothing else for something like it. You hadn't even known Orpheus had been invited until he'd shown up, matching colors. Jonas would wear something green, too.

Your fingers found the box, snagging on the bow wrapped around it. "A dildo?" You hissed. His smile broke wider, one that seemed genuine. There were times when you could tell it had been fake, where he was just amusing you for some means to an end. What did it matter when you were this lonely? When you were so scared every day of your life that you couldn't stand to go outside if it wasn't for spying. You clung to that like a lifeline, knowing familiar faces had been disappearing. It would be you soon, too. Especially if you started stealing information from Jonas.

Born in a time of peace, you never realized how horrific war could be.

"Lay on the bed, baby," Orpheus crooned, hands snaking around your waist, fingers catching the zipper and pulling it to the base of your back in one fell swoop. You sighed, not feeling like fighting. Besides, Jonas would be here in thirty minutes. Orpheus would get distracted before then. Especially since the arrival of the Hybern prince. He'd been in a mood ever since, sometimes refusing to even touch you if you'd happen to say the wrong thing.

He helped you step out of your dress, laying it over the chair. "He'll be here soon," You reminded. Orpheus just hummed. He seemed in a good mood. Sometimes, that was another sign that everything was about to quickly turn sour.

He pulled black panties over your hips, tossing them to the side as he sunk down on his knees. His hands held your thighs apart, eyes flickering over your cunt. Not bothering to ease into it, he places feather soft kisses along your clit. You were wrong before, about the possibility of Orpheus not being interested and bored. He chuckled when you flinches, curling your fingers into the bed sheets.

He was so vulgar. In Prythian, they had expected their females to have a certain level of modesty. In Edona, it was different. Sex wasn't something celebrated so freely. You weren't supposed to have a silicone shaped cock pressed into your pussy right before an event full of people you were spying on.

In a week, you were helping smuggle other captured spies out of the country. It was hard and brutal now. It was typical for the heavy winter snows to hold off until the beginning of January. You couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like then.

You pushed the thoughts away, letting Orpheus put your legs over his shoulders as he began eating your pussy in earnest. His hands rubbed your skin, sliding over your stomach and thighs before coming up and pinching and tugging on your nipples until you were groaning and rolling your hips against his face. You came with a sharp cry, legs falling open. Orpheus presses his cheek against your inner thigh, resting there and gazing at you with a shit eating grin. You wondered how late Orpheus would come after you.

His fingers slid into you, his eyes falling to your face. He softened his features, looking at you with utmost care and concern. It wasn't real, you had to remind yourself. He wanted any and all information you could give him. You suspected it was part of the reason he kept you around and alive.

It was nice, though, to have someone look at you like that. You dropped your head back, arms spread, gasping as the heat built in your stomach. His fingers curled in your pussy, wet and slick, as his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. You pushed away the jealousy at how he learned how to be so good at it. The right pressure, the right speed, everything about it had been wonderful. "Are you okay?" He asked after a moment.

You chewed on your lip, thinking of a lie.

Admittedly, you knew how he could tell something had been off with you — you'd been a virgin when you met him, let him claim you entirely. Before that, any acts had just been about getting it over with. It never took real work to have you clamped down around him, cumming and crying.

It made everything all the more sensitive. He'd slowly gotten you to last longer. Another source of pride.

He often tried to pretend like he didn't think this was what care was.

He thought of you often.

What were you doing? Did you eat? Did you miss him like he missed you? He hated the feeling, the unwilling concern he had.

He pushed the vibrating dildo into you, the front of it curling upward, settling over your clit. He had the ring. Whenever he'd moved his finger, it would either pick up speed or slow down.

He couldn't wait until you found it out. Especially as you wouldn't look at him, wouldn't acknowledge the fact that you knew him at all. Orpheus slipped your panties back on, helping you stand. "Let's get you dressed, yeah? Jonas should be here any minute. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting, would we?" You shook your head, stepping into the dress he held open, letting him pull it up over your hips before zipping. Your legs trembled for a moment. How many times had you come? You'd been so stuck in your head that you couldn't remember if it was three or five or six. The stress didn't coil as tightly anymore. It felt like you could breathe lighter now. Maybe it had been more than that then.

A sharp knock rapped against the door. Jonas.

Ever the gentleman, Orpheus walks you to the door on shaking legs, threatening to give out underneath you. He kisses you, leaving your lips swollen.

I hate you, you wanted to scream. Another part of you, the part you would never let say the words, wanted him to toss you over his shoulder and take you away. Maybe let him put a baby or two in you.

He kisses once more, promises to see you there, before he winnows away. Jonas smiled as he waited on the other side. True to his word, he wore green. It wasn't the deep forest green that you and Orpheus wore. It was a lighter shade, light enough that it seemed to clash awkwardly with your dress.

You took his hand, forcing yourself not to recoil. Tall, powerful, and human, he was everything the invaders had claimed to be. Jonas, you knew, was currently pushing towards having all the fae, citizens and visitors alike, sent away from the city. Orpheus included.

Wouldn't him leaving make your job easier? Give you less distractions?

"You look flush," He says, eyeing your face. You glimpsed at the window as he led you outside and true to his word, your face had pink tinged over your cheeks, face, and neck.

"It's the shoes," You lied lamely. You banished away thoughts of Orpheus and his tongue. "I keep falling,"

He only gives you a cold smile, his arm tightening around your own. Whether or not he could tell you were lying, he never called your bluff. "Don't worry," Jonas flashed white teeth. "I won't let you fall,"

The first three hours had been dull, this part used solely for diplomatic purposes. You fluttered around, arm in Jonas' as he spoke to advisors. They didn't really acknowledge you, maybe only giving a short nod of their heads. They spoke openly around you, of pushing westward.

And then the music picked up, chairs and tables were moved and Jonas pulled you to your feet. His touch had been wrong, had seemed to always be at odds with Orpheus.

You were thinking as much when you jerked so hard you almost fell out of his arms as he left you through the dances. The dildo started vibrating, pressed against your clit just right and buried deep in your pussy. Jonas steadied you, laughing to himself softly. "You may need smaller heels next time,"

You nodded, clenching your thighs together. It came in bursts and you swore you could feel the phantom pressure of his fingers.

It continued, a will between yours and his as he tried to make you orgasm. You wouldn't, refused to. At least while he still refused to show his face. You could imagine him with another fae female in his lap. It wouldn't be the first time.

Where is he, you thought bitterly.

Your fingers tightened in his as the music picked up. Against Orpheus, you would always lose. You lost this one too, lips clamped shut as Jonas led you to the end. The vibrating stopped with the music, freeing you from both. You dropped his hand, offering a flashing smile and a quick promise of return.

You found yourself in a bathroom, locking the door behind you. You smoothed your hair out, straightening your dress. The door popped open with a click. In walked Orpheus.

He leaned against the closest wall, "Wonderful," He commented, voice soft as if you'd somehow passed a test. He came up behind you, standing. You leaned back, his hands instantly tangling around your waist. He kissed your jaw, asking, "Did you get what you need?"

Four hours in, he certainly hoped.

You nodded, fingers reaching back to curl into his hair.

This is right, your body screamed. It belongs with him — to him.

He never seemed to care that Jonas would eventually expect you to spread your legs. Never even mentioned it. Even now, it never occurs to you that he doesn't expect it to happen, that he wouldn't let Jonas put his hands near you.

"You're a real bastard," You whispered. You watched his thumb find the ring, tapping twice before it switched back on. "Stop," You heaved, head rolling back onto his shoulder. There would be no more from you tonight. His head tilted back, considering you. He shut it off without comment. "Shall we sneak out then? Last I heard, Jonas already found someone new,"

A lie, you knew. The thought of going back out there filled you with dread. Of dancing with Jonas more than you already have. You grabbed his hand, opening your eyes to look at his face. His hands ran over your arm, comforting motions. They dropped when he realized what he was doing. "Take me home, Orpheus,"

With a small sigh, he winnowed, wanting nothing more than for home to be back with him. He would get that eventually, he reasoned. He knew you well enough, knew that your resolve would collapse entirely. You'd be his, one day.

He just needed a way to tell his father.

-------

orpheus, kidnapping you you:

#acotar x reader #acotar oc x reader #acotar next gen x reader #maybe will edit later?#lies #mine

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livinglifebehindthemask · 1 year ago

Text

Lessons in Soulbonding

Pairing: Malec

Rating: E

Artist: @gintoki976

Beta: @quickbright

Word Count: 12k

This fic was created for the Mini Bang 2023 presented by the @malecdiscordserver

Prologue

How does one go from being a single middle-aged, well not quite but might as well be, literature professor to being the soulmate of a model turned nightclub owner. It sounds like the plot of some movie Alec would look at the poster and then turn away from. That was fantasy, he lived in the real world, but now fantasy had become reality.

It had been exactly two days since he’d met Magnus Bane. Magnus was gorgeous, witty, playful, and young. Really young in comparison to Alec who was pushing 37. Magnus hadn’t even had a quarter life crisis yet. They were barely a decade apart. It was only a twelve year difference, but twelve years seemed like an insurmountable number.

So far the only thing they had in common, besides being soulmates, was their love for trash reality tv. Magnus was a night owl who loved to party at his new club in Brooklyn. Alec was a morning bird that preferred to spend his evenings at home with his two cats, Church and Raz. Okay, they did have one other thing in common, cats. Magnus had a lovely little fluff ball he called Chairman Meow for whom he liked to throw parties. And Alec thought he was a crazy cat parent.

Alec leaned back at his desk in the small office. He couldn’t even focus, not that he needed to try that hard. Spring semester had just finished and summer was not far off, but it gave him a sense of normalcy. His old boring life when all he cared about were his cats and which book to read next.

His new soulmate was breathtakingly beautiful. He lit up the room when he entered. He was young and carefree, everything Alec wasn’t. Alec was too old, too jaded, and too set in his ways.

Everyone wanted to be soul bonded. There were movies and romance novels that described the joy and passion of finding your soulmate, to be bound to them for the rest of your life. While soulbonding had been around for centuries, only a small fraction of the population ever found their soulmate. Around puberty the initials of their soulmate would appear on their skin, usually where their soulmate would first touch them.

When Alec was fourteen he woke up one morning to find the initials MB on his right shoulder. Teenage Alec had been excited at the prospect of meeting his soulmate. He had imagined what the man would look like. Would he be tall, dark, and handsome? Would he have a childlike wonder in his eyes? What color of hair or eyes would he have? He had spent so much time fantasizing about his future that he nearly forgot the statistics. Only 1 out of 100 individuals would find their soulmate. Not to mention the small number of soulmates that didn’t get along. It was rare, but it still happened.

Being a closeted gay teen in a small Midwest town didn't help either. No one in his small town had those initials, which was fine with him. He had grown up in that bigoted town and wanted out as soon as he could manage it. That was why he applied to colleges in all the big cities. New York, Chicago, LA, and even Cincinnati. He just knew his soulmate would be out there waiting for him.

When he finally got to college, the first year had been a race to find his soulmate. Not many people had only two names. Some even had multiple middle names, while Alec’s soulmate had just a first and last name. He finally found two men his freshman year with an M first name and B last name, but it turned out Michael was straight and Mathias had two middle names. Subsequent years were a bust.

Berkeley didn’t provide him with his soulmate but he was sure moving across the country for his master's program in NYC would. Again he looked throughout the campus only to come up short. There had been a couple more candidates but were either bonded or soulmates with different initials.

In the time he had been looking for his soulmate his best friend found his soulmate, a fiery redheaded artist that Alec had hated on the spot. It took nearly six months before he could admit, only in his mind, that Clary was good for Jace. Nowadays they are much closer. Even his little sister had found her soulmate in a little nerd of a kid.

As the years went on Alec slowly stopped caring. Now he was edging 40. He dressed like the typical professor with his tweed jackets, plain button up shirts, and camel colored sweaters. He even wore horn-rimmed glasses. Alec had been a literature professor at NYU for the past six years ever since he’d finished his PhD.

He had given up on finding his soulmate and was content with being a lovable uncle to his three nieces and two nephews and the godfather to his best friend's two kids. While he thought he was truly finished with this soulmate nonsense he didn't take into account that fate had other plans OR that his life was just about to begin.

Chapter One

Two days prior…

It had been a long and grueling semester. Another class of students had graduated and come the fall they would have another group coming in. Usually Alec would take a small staycation at home for two weeks before summer classes, hanging out with his two cats. He would drink his wine and marathon the Real Housewives of New York. It would be a time to catch up on sleep and just relax. So when one of his colleagues had asked him if he wanted to go and get a few drinks he uncharacteristically said yes.

Now, Alec was a bit…well, a lot of an introvert. He preferred staying at home with his cats or going to his sister's place in Chelsea to visit his family. So it surprised even Alec that he had agreed to go to one the newest and hippest clubs in Brooklyn. One of his colleagues knew the owner so they would be VIP. Everything about the idea should have sent him running home, but something made him want to go. Like a moth to flame.

The only problem was that he didn't have a thing to wear to a hip club or any club for that matter. He had a decent pair of jeans and black loafers, but it was the shirt that was causing him the most problems. Clothes were not his forte. He had been wearing the same type of clothes for nearly a decade, only trading them out for new ones when holes appeared. But he couldn’t wear one of his sweaters as it would be too hot in the club. He did have a polo shirt that someone had given him for his birthday the year before, but it made him look like a frat brother circa 2008. His button ups were also less than spectacular. Dear lord, he would have to do what he never wanted to do. Call Izzy.

Isabelle Lightwood had been the middle and only girl of the Lightwood clan. She was about 17 months younger than Alec. It had been just them for nearly ten years before the last son, Max, had been born. She had been scouted at an early age for modeling and spent ten years in the industry before pivoting to being a fashion editor for some of the best magazines. She knew her way around a store or two. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

She answered on the second ring with a cheery voice. "Hey big bro."

"Hey Izzy. How are you?" She sighed.

"Dealing with a moody preteen who thinks her uncool parents are trying to ruin her life." Izzy had married Simon Lewis when they were both only 20.

Simon's small band had been playing at an event when they locked eyes on each other. Izzy had always wondered who belonged to the SLL on her left forearm. When their eyes met across the dancefloor they had started walking toward each other. The way Izzy described it was as if she was only half a person until she met Simon. While walking over to talk to her, Simon had tripped over some of the cords to his amplifier and wound up falling face first into Izzy. She had caught his forearm as he touched her forearm and his head bumped her stomach. And that was that.

Simon's band had never really gotten that big and when Izzy got pregnant with their first child, Lizzie, the aforementioned preteen, he had settled down into a 9-5 job that he had absolutely hated.

"Sounds like fun. All I have to worry about is if Raz is going to steal Church’s food when he’s not looking."

"If only I could have stuck with cats and not kids." She chuckled. "But enough about me. How are you doing, big bro? It’s been a while. School out for summer yet?"

"Actually, yes. Just ended today. I have a few more papers to grade, but pretty much done…that is kinda why I was calling…I got invited to a party at a club." There was silence before Izzy spoke.

"Remember that teal shirt I got you for Christmas like four years ago? Wear that." Alec didn't even ask how she knew what he was going to ask because it was Izzy. She knew everything. "And either some black slacks or black jeans."

"I have a pair of dark blue jeans I never wear."

"Black would be better, but that will do. Also, Alec, try to have fun for once in your life. You never know what could happen when you try." She was right, but Alec had never tried.

=-=-=-=-

He showed up at the club, Pandemonium, at around ten p.m.. His colleague, Lydia, had told him that the club didn't get really busy until about midnight or one a.m. so they would start out when the club opened and end just before midnight. Alec decided that he would arrive at ten and leave by eleven.

The outside of the building was not spectacular. Just a brick face with a neon sign that read Pandemonium with devil horns flashing once in a while over the E. The bouncer let him in after he said he was with a group of professors. Once inside he could tell that what money was not spent on the outside had been used on the inside.

Along the walls were tables and plush couches. A few people were already hanging out there. Off to one side was a bar with two bartenders making a few drinks. They were very hot men in tight white shirts with muscles you could see through the fabric. Three girls that looked like they might barely be able to enter the club were seated near them giggling to each other. Alec remembered being smitten with hot guys. But each relationship had ended before it had even begun.

Across from the bar on the opposite side of the room was the VIP session. It was made up of three stories of tables and equally plush couches. Alec wondered who would choose white for the couches. Didn’t that stain easily?

On the main floor of the VIP section he could see John Monteverde, Lydia's husband and professor of Chemistry. Alec liked both John and Lydia. Lydia was a professor of psychology and while psychology and literature were not in the same field being from a small college you got to know everyone, and she was also his neighbor, being right next door to his office. Off to the side he saw Ragnor Fell, the Head of the History department and the man that knew the owner of the club. One look at the older man, alright he was probably only ten years older than Alec, and he wouldn’t strike you as a man that liked clubs or anyone that ran them.

Walking over to them, through the sparsely populated dance floor, Alec couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched. It was an odd feeling, like hair standing up on the back of his neck. Alec tried to shake it off. It was probably just some of the other patrons of the club looking at him. He didn’t exactly belong here anyway.

Chapter Two

Magnus never arrived at his club before midnight. Why wait around for the fun to begin? He would just lounge at home, maybe get the party started with a couple drinks before dressing to kill. But tonight was different. He felt different. His skin felt tight around his bones. He felt jumpy and any attempt to relax made him instantly jump back up. Maybe it was because he had just recently broken up with his on-and-off girlfriend of seven years.

Camille Belcourt was as pretty as she was cruel. They had met when Magnus was just 17. Both of them had been modeling in the same fashion show. At 20 Camille had seemed so mature but looks can be deceiving. Magnus always seemed to find himself going back to her but not now. His new club had just opened up the month prior and, being only 24 himself, he intended to forget about Camille and move on. Still that didn't explain why he arrived just as the club was opening up.

When he entered he felt like something was…not right. Walking around he checked everything just to make sure. The music started up without a hitch and the first customers arrived. The bar was fully stocked and he even had a drink with his bartenders.

Ragnor and his group of roughly 50 professors would be coming in soon to celebrate the end of the semester. Maybe that was why he felt off? Ragnor was not one for clubbing, but when one of his colleagues had asked where they could have a party he knew who to call. Magnus would do anything for Ragnor. The man was the reason why Magnus was able to leave his poor town in Indonesia. Ragnor was like the father Magnus never had. Still, older people out celebrating at such an early hour, it was…cute. He might feel pity for them but he still cheered them on.

After checking everything twice, again, he couldn't find the problem. Drinks were plenty, music was great, bathrooms were stocked with condoms and small sachets of lubricant. His money was locked up tight and he had balanced the books the day before, so why did he feel on edge?

By ten he had moved up to his office to look over the security cameras. Still nothing. Maybe he was just tired, he had been working a lot lately. He needed another drink and maybe some company. Looking out over the whole of the dance floor from his one way mirror he noticed a single, dark haired man walk in. The dark haired man was tall and lithe, at least from this far. The lights danced across the shirt and Magnus instantly recognized style and brand. A little out of date but still beautiful. The man stopped and looked around. He looked like a fish out of water. Probably being pulled out by friends that wanted to make him have fun and he was right— the man headed for the table of professors. Ah, an educated man.

Magnus found himself rubbing the skin just under his watch where the initials of his soulmate resided. Magnus was a romantic but he was also a pragmatist. If he went looking for his soulmate he might never meet them. Better to enjoy life and then when your soulmate comes around you wouldn't have any fomo. Still he found himself forgetting the letters more often than not. This had been the first time he had thought of them since the night he broke up with Camille.

Pushing the band up he looked at the tiny letters. His soulmate must have the worst handwriting in the world. The letters looked like chicken scratch but they were still endearing to him. AGL. How many times had young little Magnus stared at those letters before he covered them up? How many times had he wished his soulmate would take him away from his horrible life? How many times did he wish for his soulmate to appear just to push it away and live life?

But why did he think of them now? He looked back up to see that tall, dark, and brainy had made his way to the professors’ table and the people there were welcoming him, though he still had a stiff posture. Yup, he didn't want to be here at all. Maybe Magnus could help that. He still needed to see Ragnor, and maybe he could double check that this teacher was not his soulmate. Magnus chuckled to himself. Yeah, a professor and a hedonist, what worse pairing could there be?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Magnus danced down the stairs to the beat of the music. It was still early so only a few people were on the dance floor. The party didn’t really get started until midnight when the floor would be packed with writhing bodies all looking for release. Magnus had joined them a couple times, but with the club still being so new he had to make sure the ship was running smoothly. Maybe after he started to make a decent profit he would join in the merriment more often.

The lights danced across his face as he walked towards the group of professors. One of his waitstaff was just finishing up bringing them their drinks. From his position now he could not see the fish out of water, but Magnus knew he was still there. Probably nursing a drink for a while before he would inevitably excuse himself to run back home. Introverts were so cute, Magnus thought as he rolled his eyes.

“And here is our mysterious benefactor.” Magnus picked up Ragnor’s posh voice instantly. He remembered so well when the Englishman had walked into the tiny little one room schoolhouse in the remote countryside to teach a small group of Indonesian children English. That has been over twenty years ago and yet the man had still not aged, he had always looked old.

“Ragnor, darling.” Magnus said, putting his arms around the man. He still smelled like tobacco and old books. It reminded him of a simpler time. “I am so glad you are here, you and all of your lovely friends.” He was sure that not all of the people there were friends, but a friend of a friend was just as good.

“And how are you, my dear boy.” Ragnor was just a few inches taller than Magnus so Magnus had to look up into those emerald green eyes.

“I am good, Paman. Now why don’t you introduce me to your friends.” He knew this would annoy his friend, but Ragnor did it anyway. Mostly history, english, and psychology professors in the group. There were a couple science teachers and one math teacher. All brainiacs.

Magnus had been good at school, but it was not where he wanted to land. He loved fashion and makeup and expressing oneself through their appearance. Ragnor had not been happy when Magnus had told him. In fact that man had been furious. After everything he had done for Magnus. But after he calmed down they had talked and Ragnor accepted Magnus' decision.

Magnus was great with names, faces not so much. Sometimes it was hard putting a name with a face that didn't have some special feature. Most of these professors were dressed nicely but not like his usual clientele.

"This is Lydia Branwell. She is part of the psychology department." Lydia was sitting with the tall, dark, and handsome man from before, well across the booth table and next to another man. Magnus leaned in to shake her hand. He had to place his other hand on a chair to balance himself, but misjudged where it was and ended up touching tall-dark-and-handsome’s shoulder. A light shock went through his body, like static shock, but all over. Before Magnus could remove his hand the man was twisting and grabbing his wrist. The pad of tall-dark-and-handsome's thumb pressed into Magnus’ inner wrist. If the shock before had been a little odd this touch was like coming home.

Feelings of love, comfort, and safety ran over him. Home.

Chapter Three

Alec hadn't meant to grab the man’s wrist. He didn’t touch others freely, but the small shock from just a hand on his shoulder made him think something was wrong. Of course this man wouldn’t try to hurt him here, in front of everyone, but Alec acted before his brain could process. Which was very unusual for him. They stood there staring at each other for the longest time. Everything else seemed to vanish. His co-workers sounded like they were miles away.

He felt warmth envelop him from head to toe. It was like curling up in a thick blanket on a cold winter's night. It was like coming home to peace and security. It was like…oh fuck.

Alec’s brain had finally started to work again. This was not good. Not good at all. Alec let go of the other man's wrist like it had burned him. He had given up on ever experiencing this moment a long time ago, yet every instinct told him that he needed this man more than he needed air to breathe. This man was the answer to all his lonely nights. But Alec was rational and rational thought told him he needed to get the hell out of there. ASAP.

He stood up and pushed past the man, noting the smell of sandalwood, musk, and bourbon. It was the most intoxicating scent he had ever smelled. It made him want to go back, stick his nose into the other man’s neck, and just breathe him in. But Alec’s body had already made up its mind. He was hurrying out as fast as his feet could carry him.

It took Magnus exactly three seconds before he was running after the man. The first touch had been like getting hit by static electricity, but when tall-dark-and-handsome had touched his skin the feelings had only intensified.

Yes, he had always wanted to meet his soulmate, everyone did. He just didn’t know it was going to be here, in a club and that his soulmate would be a tall, dark, and smart man. When the man got up and brushed past him Magnus was still reeling. This moment had finally happened. Then his mind kicked itself into high gear. He was not letting his soulmate get away. Not when they were this close.

Alec had almost reached the back entrance to the club. The orange-red light of the exit sign had been the first thing he’d seen when he darted out of the booth. He had to get home. He needed to get home.

His whole body was buzzing with something just under the skin. His breath was coming in heavy pants, sweat ran down the back of his neck, and his skin felt too tight. As Alec reached to punch the door open, a hand on his shoulder had him reeling around.

They were staring at each other once again. The air was thick with the smell of sandalwood and Alec felt his knees want to buckle. This man was unbelievably gorgeous even in the red light of the exit sign. Alec found his eyes drifting down to those perfectly plump and shiny lips. It had been a while since he’d had a date, let alone a kiss. He had been fine with it at the time. Content with his life, but now…

Suddenly Alec was grabbing the man by his lapels and pulling him in for a kiss. He tasted…cherry? No, strawberry. The man was wearing lip gloss of some kind. But even as Alec had the thought, all other thoughts left as the other man’s tongue slid against his. Alec was falling in love.

Magnus had not been expecting a kiss, but hell, he didn’t mind. He had read somewhere that the meeting of two souls could create an intense reaction and this was truly intense. Tall-dark-and-handsome had pulled him in for a kiss. There was a scrape of stubble across his cheek and he found himself hoping for stubble burn. A reminder that this was not a dream.

Magnus pushed the man back against the door, intensifying the kiss and running his hand through short dark locks. His pulse was racing, sending every ounce of blood straight to his groin. If only they were not in a small hallway that led to the back exit. Okay, he was going to let that joke slide by.

Magnus' leg slid between the other man’s thighs and he felt an echoing bulge. Tall-dark-and-handsome was just as turned on as he was. With that last thought Magnus’ brain shut down and focused only on kissing and getting his soulmate off.

The kiss was almost all consuming. Alec had never felt like this before. It was all so fast and so very much unlike him. The man, well, his soulmate pressed against him and Alec could feel the hint of a bulge. Then suddenly there was a rush of cool air and Alec was falling. For a minute he thought his legs had finally given out, but no. He was falling backwards.

A hand gripped his wrist while the other gripped his hand. It kept him from falling head first onto the cold alleyway. He was able to get his feet under him and get back inside the club.

They were both panting when the door finally closed behind them. Now that they were not pawing at each other Alec felt…very uncomfortable. He had just kissed a man he had just met and STILL didn't know the name of! And to make matters worse he had nearly fallen because of all that kissing.

"Uh…thanks for…catching me." Even in his awkwardness Alec was still a gentleman with good manners.

"Not at all. I couldn't let my soulmate get hurt. Name's Magnus, by the way." The raven haired man stuck out his hand to shake as if they had not just been making out like teenagers in the back of a parked car.

Alec slowly put his hand out to shake Magnus'. Magnus of course, his name had been said but Alec had only been half listening.

Soulmate. The word finally made it from his ears to his brain. Oh shit he had just been making out with his soulmate and fuck his soulmate was so young. What was he? Twenty, maybe twenty-two if he was lucky. They had an over ten years age difference. How the fuck could they be soulmates?

"Uh…tall-dark-and-handsome, you alright?" Wait what? Did the ma- Magnus just call him tall, dark, and handsome?

A flush crossed Alec’s face as he answered. "Iii-I'm Alec." Great now he was a stuttering teenager.

Now that they had quit clawing at each other they could hear the music that pounded in the background. Where did they go from here?

“Let’s go up to my office.” Magnus said, stepping back and unlocking a door to their right. Where had that come from? Magnus was already through it when Alec finally followed.

Chapter Four

The door led to a set of stairs which they used to get up to Magnus' office. Alec was glad not to have to see his colleagues again. He didn’t know how to explain what sent him running from the table. They would probably figure it out sooner or later. Preferably later and not with Alec around.

The man in front of him asked if he wanted a drink or a seat, but Alec was still trying to wrap his head around this whole…situation.

“I hope you don’t mind if I have one.” Magnus walked over to a small bar cart and started to make a drink. The golden eyed man knew they had to take this slow, but he was too giddy. He finally had his soulmate, a breathtakingly gorgeous man with the beginnings of gray at the temples of his dark brown hair. Magnus licked his lips hoping to taste the man. Alec. Short for Alexander? Maybe.

Turning back to Alec, Magnus smiled slightly. The man looked like a lost puppy. Magnus would give anything to go and push the man down on the couch and kiss every last inch of his body. Okay, calm down. You didn’t know him an hour ago and now you are ready to climb him like a jungle gym.

“How old are you?” This was the first time Alec was asking any questions. It might seem odd but Magnus understood.

“Twenty-four. And you?” Magnus popped his hip to the side, looking sultry, but tall-dark-and-handsome was not even noticing it. Pity.

“Thirty-six.” Alec was not going to mention that he would be thirty-seven in September. God, twelve years. Alec ran his hand over his face as he tried to process. For years he had been trying to find his soulmate only for the man to be two years younger than his little brother.

“Alexander?” Alec’s head shot up at the name. No one but his parents ever called him that. He had been Alec for as long as he could remember.

“Alec.”

“Okay, Alec. Are you sure you don’t want to take a seat?” The man before him was being nice and Alec should try to be just as cordial.

“No. I’m fine.” So much for being cordial.

“Alright.” Magnus moved to sit on the arm of the couch and took a drink. “Well I am sure you have a lot of thoughts going through that pretty little brain of yours. I know I do.” Magnus smirked behind his drink. “I never knew my soulmate would be a professor. Kind of exciting really. I liked school but never saw myself going into academia. I know Ragnor was sad I didn’t, but why hide all this.” Magnus motioned to himself with his arms. “In tweed jackets, camel colored cardigans, and turtlenecks. Still I am excited that we’ve finally met. Ooo, I need your phone.”

Getting up from his perch and setting his glass down he walked up to Alec and held out his hand expectantly. It took Alec a moment to understand what Magnus wanted before he slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket. Magnus grabbed it and put his number in tall-dark-and-handsome’s phone then shot himself a text.

“There we go.” Magnus handed the phone back to Alec.

Alec looked back at his phone as he finally processed what Magnus had said. Shouldn’t he be more upset that this kid just called his wardrobe dull? Not that he was wrong. Alec knew his style was old fashioned but it suited him. His soulmate, he was probably never going to get over calling this man his soulmate, was dressed in what Alec could only describe as club clothes. A navy blazer, that now Alec could look more closely at, he realized there was no shirt underneath. Oh God! Magnus was practically naked. Oh God! He sounded like his father.

“I knew there had to be a reason.” Alec finally noticed that Magnus was talking. “And here he is.” Magnus said, grabbing his drink back up and winking at Alec. “My soulmate. Wow, I didn’t think I would meet you this soon, but better sooner than later.” Magnus turned his back and walked over the window where he could see the rest of the club starting to fill up.

“I was standing here when I saw you walk in. I could tell you were handsome, but I didn’t know this was the beginning of forever.” Forever, dear lord. Any plans that Alec had about his future were moot. “Now we will need to tell our families, naturally. A bonding ceremony will take a bit to plan, but it will be the talk of the town.” Magnus' voice was low as if he was speaking to himself. “We can do it right here! Where we met.”

Magnus was planning out their bonding ceremony as if both of them had agreed to this. Alec hadn’t agreed to being Magnus' soulmate, let alone having a bonding ceremony. Magnus sounded like he had been planning this since he was child. But hadn’t Alec done the exact same thing? Didn’t he have scores of notebooks filled out with what he wanted included in his bonding ceremony? All he had ever wanted was to meet the man that MB belonged to. Now he had and he was not ready.

“I can’t do a honeymoon for another couple months. Opening up this club has taken most of my time.” Magnus still had his back to Alec, oblivious to his soulmate’s full blown panic attack.

“I…I can’t. I have to go.” Alec said, before zeroing in on the door to the office. Flinging it open he barely remembered flying down the stairs and out the same back door he had wanted to take not an hour ago. Thankfully, this time, Magnus didn’t follow him.

Chapter Five

Alec awoke to the sound of a text. He was still too tired to get up so he just stuck his hand out of the covers to see who it was. It was probably Izzy, wondering how his night had gone. Boy was she in for a shock. Blinking a few times he read the name and almost dropped the phone.

Magnus 🌶💋: Morning, darling. Sleep well?

Lord did he really put that as his contact name? Alec sat up and checked and sure enough a pepper and a kiss emoji. Maybe he was lucky the younger man didn't put an eggplant emoji.

Magnus 🌶💋: Darling?

Alec put his phone on silent and rolled over in bed. He still couldn't come to grips with his own reality. Just yesterday he was ready for a regular, boring old summer and now… now he had a soulmate a decade his junior. Maybe that was why he never found him. Magnus was so much younger. All those years spent trying to find his soulmate while the man was running around on a playground somewhere.

Alec turned back over and looked at his phone again. There was another text asking if he was alright, something that warmed his heart, but his brain was not having it. He is 24! He is a child! You teach others his age! It was not like Magnus was in high school or anything like that.

He must have been thinking for a while because the phone lit up with a call. Magnus 🌶💋. Panic welled up in his chest and he quickly put the phone upside down back on his side table. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He was not supposed to have a soulmate. He was supposed to be single for the rest of his days. That was the plan and now some hot, sexy, beautiful….

“Dear God.” He groaned and fell back onto his pillow. Magnus was everything Alec was not. Pulling the covers up over his face he felt like being a petulant child and staying in bed. He wanted to go back to sleep and wake up back in his reality, not in this soap opera. That lasted all of about 20 minutes before Raz started clawing at the door wanting food. Leaving his phone in the bedroom he went and fed his cats.

Church had been given to Alec by a neighbor when he had to move out of state several years ago. He was an eight year old Himalayan mix with beige fluff. Raz, on the other hand, was a gray tabby and only two years old. She was so spunky and playful while Church was a grumpy old man in cat form. As he watched his cats he suddenly felt lonely.

He had not felt like this since college while he tried to find his soulmate. Now that he had one his body chemistry was changing. Soulmates were drawn to each other. They needed physical closeness to truly feel at home. Running his hand over his beard he scratched his head. Was he being an asshole while he ignored his soulmate? Surely Magnus was feeling the same way, but the problem was Magnus had their lives all planned out. Alec had given up.

After he fed the cats and got a cup of coffee he went back to his bedroom. Flipping the phone over he saw several more texts and two more calls. Sighing he opened the messages and typed in, I am alright. I just need time. I will call you later. But even as he sent the message he didn’t know when later would be.

Sipping his coffee he scrolled through instagram not really seeing what was posted, just needing something mundane to do. Something to get his mind off of the present. Somehow, he still was not sure how or why he did it but he found himself on Pandemonium’s insta. In the bio it said owner Magnus Bane @purrfectlymagnus. He clicked on it before he could stop himself. The account was not private, which he was glad for. Maybe?

Alec scrolled through the pictures. There were several of Magnus with a white fluffy cat who he called Chairman Meow. There was even one with the cat behind a huge cake that said Happy 5th Birthday, Chairman. The cat looked like it would rather be sleeping. Alec looked over at his cats. Church had run off to probably sleep off his breakfast while Raz was licking both of the bowls clean.

Well, at least we have something in common. One thing they had in common. Alec didn’t party or go to the most exclusive restaurants. He kept scrolling until he found a Throwback Thursday post. Magnus had his arms around a dark skinned woman; they were both in high fashion outfits that made absolutely not sense to Alec. The caption read: “To the time when @imblue_catarina and I were in the same show. She was better than me, though. Just don’t tell her that.” Below one the comments was from the woman in the picture calling Magnus a liar. Alec clicked on her name, but her account was private.

Going back to Magnus he looked through more photos. Ones of Magnus with friends or his cat. A few posts about trashy reality tv shows, the very same ones that Alec liked to watch just to have background noise. Still they didn’t have much else in common. Setting his phone down he sipped his coffee and looked out the window.

They liked cats and the same tv shows. But in everything else they were complete opposites and twelve years apart. Of the posts he had looked at was one of Magnus celebrating his 24th birthday at a strip club. Magnus was wild and free. Alec was boring and conventional.

Sitting back in his chair Alec didn’t know what to do, but he knew he had to do something. He was an adult and while he had given up on a soulmate or even just a partner he had to do something about this for Magnus. The kid didn’t deserve to be left on read.

Chapter 6

Alec leaned back at his desk in the small office at his university. He couldn’t even focus, not that he needed to try that hard. Spring semester had just finished and summer was not far off. He had thought that coming to work, and going on as he normally would, would help him decide what to do with Magnus, but surprise, it didn’t. There was still a small stack of papers that needed to be graded and entered. He had only one more day before all grades were due but his mind was not in it and he refused to just give them a pass.

There was a knock at his door. Slowly opening it Lydia stuck her head in. She had tried to call Alec but, like he was doing with Magnus, he ignored her.

“Hey. I am glad to see you got home safely. Ragnor told me not to worry.” Oh god now he had to face the shame of having run out on the party. What did everyone say about him after he left? Alec was always so stoic yet he went running out of the club like a ghost was after him. And they didn’t know he’d found his soulmate. They would probably all be happy for him.

“Yeah.” Was all he could muster to say to her.

“Are you…alright?” She stepped a bit more into the room but stayed in the doorway.

“Yes and no. It’s a long story.”

“Well I am here if you need me. Well if you need me later. I was just grabbing my tablet from the office. Forgot it on Friday.”

“Maybe I will take you up on that offer after I know what I am doing.” Lydia just smiled at him and bid him good day. After the door closed Alec groaned and rolled his eyes at himself. He could have been more civil, but it seemed like that emotion had left him for someone else.

“What the fuck do I do?” Leaning over his desk and hand in his hair, probably making it stick out at all angles. He needed to talk through his emotions and fears, but to do so, for a very private man, was incredibly tough.

Alec was silent for what seemed like hours, his mind both racing and freezing. He was not used to being out of control, to have his life messed with. Finally he buckled down and did what he knew needed to be done.

-=-=-=-=-

<3 Alec <3: Is there somewhere we can meet that is both public and private?

The moment Magnus' phone lit up with those words he was jumping up and screaming yes, arm fist pumping the air. Quickly he typed out the directions to a small coffee/ice cream stand in Central Park. Once he received Alec’s confirmation he went running from the living room to his closet to pick out his outfit.

Ever since Alec had left the club on Friday night Magnus had felt like a part of him was missing. He didn’t feel whole or even comfortable in his skin. He was able to brush it off until he had tried texting Alec. When tall-dark-and-handsome didn’t answer, that was when the panic set in.

He had worried that maybe Alec had never made it home. What if…Alec already had a boyfriend or even a girlfriend? Was Alec bisexual like himself, gay, straight, or even still in the closet? It was not unheard of for one soulmate to choose their partner from before over a newly met soulmate. Granted Magnus had not given Alec much time to talk. He couldn’t even remember everything he’d said since he was riding the highest of highs but he was sure that whatever he said had scared his soulmate off.

It had been a tense half an hour before he got the text saying Alec was fine but needed time. Magnus had relaxed at those words. He needed time. Duh. Alec had just met his soulmate and he needed time. While Magnus could understand that, it didn’t make the time apart any easier.

He had waited all day for Alec to text or call, hoping it wouldn't take too long, but as the minutes turned into hours he had to accept the fact that Alec needed even more time. So he tried to fill his time with trash tv but seemed to gravitate to the sad romantic movies instead. He cried his eyes out to the Notebook and A Walk to Remember before he finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion.

It didn’t help that Ragnor wanted to know what had happened. He was Magnus’ closest thing to a father but Magnus pushed him away. Old feelings of abandonment surfaced. He thought he was over and done with those feelings. He thought he had left his time at the orphanage long behind him when he went to England. But it seemed he was not over his past.

He remembered when he had first met Ragnor and how happy he’d been that someone cared, even a little, for the odd boy with honey brown eyes. Ragnor didn’t care that Magnus’ father had been a foreigner that got his mom pregnant then ran away. Magnus was known as the bastard that killed his mother, but Ragnor didn’t see it that way. When his mother had died in childbirth her family had taken Magnus to the orphanage. He was at least happy they had done that instead of killing him.

While life in England had been fun and exciting he never really had anything that was solely his. When he chose to become a model and travel around the world he thought that would be the something he was missing. Then Camille happened and again he thought that was the something he was missing. But it wasn’t. He was missing his soulmate, his other half.

Magnus finally decided on a casual purple top and dark skinny jeans. He threw on his Chucks, grabbed his leather jacket, keys, and wallet before heading out the door. Of course he told Chairman he would be back, but the cat probably didn’t even hear him. Down in the parking garage he put on his helmet and revved his bike. Since he had not really fixed his hair he would wear the protection.

Chapter 7

Alec was waiting by the cart with an ice tea in his hand. It was too warm for coffee but he didn’t feel like ice cream. Looking at his watch he wondered how much longer Magnus would be. Really it had only been half an hour since he got the text telling him he would see the man in about half an hour.

Everything in Alec screamed to leave and hide at home, but that was not fair to Magnus. He deserved to know why Alec had run and why he was not sure this would work out. If Alec could give him anything he would give him that.

Taking another sip he finally saw Magnus, leather jacket and hair pushed back from his face. He looked…younger with no makeup on. God, why did he have to be so young.

“Hey, Alec.” Magnus smiled at him, but didn’t come in for a hug or even a handshake like he was waiting for Alec to initiate it first.

“Hey. How are you doing?” Alec was never good at small talk.

“Good. Let me get something and then we can talk.” Magnus ended up getting a cone with strawberry and vanilla swirl on top.

They walked for a bit just trying to get used to each other's company. It was like a balm to frazzled nerves. Odd but kind of nice.

“I am sorry.” Alec said after Magnus was halfway done with his ice cream. “For running out on you the other night.”

“No worries. I understand. I was talking too much.” Magnus tried to shrug it off, but had remembered what he had been talking about when Alec suddenly said he had to go and left. He had been talking about their future. Stupid really, but when you have grown up imaging your life differently you tend to dream about your soulmate. But in the dreams his soulmate had been just as happy. “I am sorry about what I said. I understand it was all too much and I am sure your partner was not happy when they heard.”

“Partner? What partner?”

“Boyfriend or girlfriend. Or are you mar…” At that moment Alec had let out a sharp laugh that made some ducks honk and move farther away from the two of them on the pond.

“Sorry, no. I don’t have a boyfriend and I’ve never had a girlfriend. I am…I’m gay.” Relief flooded Magnus' body. “I didn’t run from you because of a partner…I ran because…” Alec sighed. “You were not in the plans.”

“Plans?” Magnus asked and Alec motioned them to a bench. He quickly finished his cone, which was not the best idea, and had a bit of a brain freeze. Thankfully Alec waited until Magnus was not in so much pain before he continued.

“I’m thirty-six, Magnus. I have been looking for my soulmate for a long time.” Alec said, looking into his drink as if he was replaying his past over again. “After I finished my PHD and still had not found him I decided that I was done waiting. It hurt too much to keep searching and failing to find my soulmate. So I gave up. I made myself believe I was fine with no partner and being the brainy uncle to my brother and sister’s kids. I got a second cat and was like, this is it. This is me.” Alec paused. Magnus wanted to say something. He had been waiting and looking too, not for as long, but he had never given up that his soulmate was out there and they would meet one day.

“Then Friday…every carefully laid plan I had made for my life just crumbled. I didn’t know how to move forward. I finally had the soulmate I had always wanted, yet at the same time, I had told myself for years that I didn’t want a soulmate. That…I didn’t deserve a soulmate.”

“Didn’t deserve a soulmate? Just because you could not find me?” Magnus asked. It made sense, they were twelve years apart. While Alec was in college running around trying to find his soulmate Magnus was still in Indonesia. When Alec was finishing his schooling Magnus had just started his modeling career. But it still didn’t help the words from hurting. Magnus felt a burn in the back of his eyes. “Do you still not want a soulmate?”

“I don’t know, Magnus. I could not find you and now that I have given up you are here. I am a mixture of emotions. I don’t know anything anymore. I wanted to run, but you deserve better than that.” Finally Alec looked up and their eyes met. Wow how had he never noticed those beautiful golden eyes. They were unlike any color he had ever seen before. “Your eyes…” Magnus looked away, trying to make sure that not one single tear fell. “They're beautiful.”

Okay what?! Magnus’ head whipped back around. “What?” That was not something he was expecting Alec to say.

“Well, they are. I just didn’t notice until now.” Magnus felt his cheeks heat up a bit.

“Thanks.” After that they were silent for a bit. They watched as people came and went. A couple of little boys with their dad, begging him to play catch. A mother and her stroller. A young couple holding hands.

“I was born in Jakarta, Indonesia.” Magnus started. “My father was long gone by then. They said he was a foreigner. My mother died in childbirth with me and her family didn’t want the disgrace of a bastard child so they gave me over to an orphanage.”

“I’m sorry.” Magnus shrugged.

“I never knew my family so I feel no attachment.”

“But you were a child. No one should be made to feel like that.” Magnus looked back at Alec. It felt good to have someone other than Ragnor know the tale. “My parents and I were never very close.” Alec said. “They were a midwest power couple that liked the prestige of being a perfect family. I haven’t talked to my dad since I came out when I was 23 and after I graduated with my degree. He wanted to disown me but my mom stopped him. My mom and I do not have the best of relationships but I know she is trying. We have been in contact more since they divorced.” Wow they both had screwed up families.

“I don’t remember how old I was, but I do remember when I first met Ragnor Fell. It was late April and he came to teach the children of the orphanage English. I took to him and he took to me. It was a couple more years before he became my guardian and took me to England, where he was teaching at the time. I call him Paman which means Uncle. He never formally adopted me, just sponsored me so I could go to school in England.” Sometimes Magnus wished he had but it didn’t make Ragnor any less special to him.

“But he is like your father.” Alec said and Magnus nodded.

“He is all I have.” They were quiet again for a moment before Alec spoke.

“I don’t…I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend. I have not dated since I was 29. I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be.”

“How do you know? We barely know each other.” Magnus protested. “If you want to give us a chance, I would be very happy. But don’t discount us because we are different. Haven’t you heard? Opposites attract.” Alec chuckled at that. “Give us a chance.”

“Okay.” Alec nodded. “I will.”

Chapter 8

Their first official date was set for the following Wednesday. They had texted back and forth since Sunday. Alec finished up his work and then spent the next couple days worrying. It had been ages since he had gone out on a date. He was not even sure he remembered how to date. Martin had been his last shot at something meaningful, but they were just not meant to be.

Martin had been a dance instructor and two years Alec’s junior. He had the correct initials, Martin Barns, but the initials on Martin’s waist were not Alec’s. Still they tried to make it work, because they were both lonely. As looks went Martin was not exactly GQ man of the year, but neither was Alec. He had sandy brown hair, crooked teeth and a thin frame. Martin was more carefree than Alec, but it seemed like a perfect balance, at least at first. As time went on Martin wanted more and more of Alec’s time until Alec felt smothered. They broke up not two months after becoming a couple.

After that Alec had wiped his hands of the whole idea of partners and soulmates. If he couldn’t find his soulmate, then he didn’t need one. It was also around that time that Max got married and had his first kid. Alexis was the spitting image of her dad and the happiest baby. Alec took a semester off of school to visit Max and his family in Chicago. That change had helped him to solidify his position. He would be content with what his life was.

But now he’d found his soulmate and while he couldn’t change overnight, he did want to try and make this work. Magnus deserved that much, they both did. Still he was on edge as he got out of the taxi in front of a nice restaurant. It was not one that required a coat and tie but that didn’t seem to be his soulmate’s type of place either.

Walking in he told the hostess that he was meeting someone and gave Magnus’ name. The woman nodded and showed him the way to the table, telling him his friend was already there. That was a surprise. Alec was well over ten minutes early and Magnus was already here?

As a man from another table sat down Alec could finally see Magnus. The man was drop dead gorgeous. His black hair was styled to perfection atop his head. He wore a magenta shirt with a black sequined jacket over it. When their eyes met Alec felt a jolt go through his body, much like their first connection.

“Sorry if I’m late.” Even though it wasn’t even 7 o’clock yet.

“Fashionably late.” Magnus purred and Alec felt like melting into a pile of goo at his feet. Magnus’ voice did things to him. “But I suppose I was fashionably early.”

They opened the menus and looked through the selection. Alec wasn’t sure what he wanted, aside from Magnus. He felt his face flush at the thought and buried his face in the menu until the waiter came to take their drink orders. Alec was not one for alcohol, not since his junior year in undergrad. You can only drink so much tequila before everything you’d ingested for the past week would come spilling out.

Magnus ordered red wine and Alec joined him in that. They sat in relative silence while their drinks were being poured. Only after their food orders had been taken did Alec try to break the ice.

“Is fish your favorite?” He asked, since Magnus had ordered the salmon.

“Not really. I mean, I do like fish, but I would say my favorite food is rather mundane.” Magnus chuckled. “I love fruit, especially mangos and blueberries.”

“Oh? I love blueberry pie and crumble, but I have never been too fond of the fruit on its own.”

“It can be an acquired taste.”

“I prefer strawberries myself.”

“Chocolate covered strawberries?” Magnus’ little wink made Alec feel hot all over. He had this sudden urge to reach over the table to pull Magnus in for a never ending kiss.

“Yyyeah. Them, too.” Alec stuttered. Another smile across Magnus’ face let him know that Magnus knew just how much he was affecting Alec.

“I tried to go vegetarian once.” Magnus said, thankfully changing the subject before Alec made a fool of himself. “But I like fish and steak too much. So I just cut down on it when I can.”

“I love steak, chicken, and pork.” Magnus scrunched his nose up at the last one. “You don’t like pork?”

“Not really. When I lived in Indonesia the home next to mine had pigs and they got into everything and they smelled.”

“Ah, I see.” Alec nodded. “So no pork, what about chicken?”

“It’s fine.”

“But also not your favorite?” Magnus nodded. They talked a bit more about their food choices and had even moved into music when their food arrived.

“I am not going to say I don’t like them, but…their music is not my taste.” Magnus comments on Alec’s favorite group, The Nephilims.

“What do you mean?!” Alec asked with a smile. “They are the best alternative rock group to come out of Brooklyn in ages.”

“Yes, but a lot of their songs are…sad and lonely.” Oh. Yeah, they were.

“So you stay away from them or any alternative rock?”

“I like upbeat parties, techno, trap, and dance mixes. And some kpop. It’s my secret obsession, but you didn’t hear that from me.” They both chuckled. Finally they were getting comfortable with each other. Finally they were making progress.

-=-=-=-=-=-

After dinner, and a brief argument about who was going to pay, they stood outside the restaurant watching the cars go by. Now that they had become somewhat comfortable with each other Alec found himself gravitating closer to Magnus.

Turning his face toward Alec, Magnus asked if he would like to come over and share a drink. The tension seemed to get worse after Magnus asked.

“I don’t know…if it’s a good idea.” The sad look that briefly passed over Magnus’ face made Alec want to take the words back.

“I understand. It’s no-” Magnus didn’t even get to finish his sentence as Alec pulled him into a deep and passionate kiss. What had been simmering at dinner was igniting.

Magnus thread his hands through Alec's hair, not caring that they were in the middle of the sidewalk. His soulmate was kissing him and he never wanted to stop. Unfortunately, they did have to stop kissing so they didn’t die of asphyxiation.

“I…I don’t know where…” Alec was stuttering again.

“I shall ask you again, want to come back to my place?” Finally Alec agreed.

Chapter 9

They barely made it into Magnus’ apartment before they were pulling clothes off each other. The taxi ride home had been excruciatingly long. Keeping his hands to himself had been hard but somehow Alec did.

They almost tripped over someone’s shoes and they both laughed.

“Bedroom or couch?” Magnus asked. They hadn’t been able to talk about what exactly they would be doing. All they knew was it involved less clothes and more touching.

“I…I haven't been intimate with anyone for a long time.” Alec found himself admitting, feeling ashamed. Magnus pressed his finger to Alec’s lips.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I don’t mind taking the lead, but I need to know what your boundaries are.”

“Stand here and talk out the details?” Magnus laughed a hearty laugh.

“Neither do I but I prefer clear guidelines.” Alec bit his lip, not sure how far to take this, but knowing he needed something more than just kisses.

“Maybe not all the way.” God he sounded like a teenager about to lose his virginity on prom night.

“Alright. Are you okay with condoms? We probably should get tested.”

“Yeah. But can we do something before my dick decides to settle down?”

“You are only in your thirties. You are fine, but I will gladly help you.” Magnus pushed Alec back against the wall and knelt down. He pulled out his wallet and produced a condom.

“Expecting something?” Alec asked with a blush.

“More like prepared.” Magnus tore the wrapper and pulled the condom out. He placed it on the tip of Alec’s dick and with one quick motion used his mouth to roll it all the way down.

“FUCK!” Bubbled out of Alec’s mouth. Magnus just pulled back to the tip before going back in. The pace he set was both too much and not enough. Alec felt like he was on the edge from the moment Magnus’ mouth had engulfed his dick.

“Magnus, fuck… please!” What was he pleading for? More? Faster? Alec’s fingers slid into Magnus’ raven hair, pulling the strands from the perfect coif and pushing it out of place. His hips started to move on their own even as he tried to hold back. He didn’t want to hurt Magnus, but he did love the feeling of hitting the back of the man’s throat.

“Magnus…” He panted, letting his eyes close as Magnus’ hands ran up his thighs to his ass and pulled him forward. Fuck, did his soulmate want him to fuck his throat? His hips seemed to understand and snapped forward hard, causing Magnus to moan around him. It wasn’t long before the thrusts and Magnus’ own vibrations over his dick were too much and he fell over, coming inside Magnus’ mouth.

Magnus pulled off, panting, and leaning against Alec’s thigh for a moment before he was able to gather himself enough to stand up and help Alec with the condom.

“When I said…maybe not all the way…” Alec was panting trying to stand on shaking legs. “I might have spoken too soon.” Magnus chuckled.

“One step at a time, big boy.”

They ended up sticking to their agreement not to go all the way. While they both wanted to, it wasn’t the right time. Instead Magnus took Alec back to his bedroom and showed him his collection of “toys”. Magnus even put a few to good use as he fucked himself while Alec watched.

If Magnus had been breathtaking at dinner, he was something else now. Alec’s gaze ran over Magnus’ body as he pushed a purple toy in and out of himself. Magnus’ back was arched and his neck stretched to show off his throat. What did Alec do to deserve such a god?

Once Alec was hard again Magnus switched from a dildo to a vibrator. He still needed something inside him as they kissed and pressed their bodies closer. Their cocks rubbed against each other smearing precome all over their stomachs.

The morning after was devoid of any awkwardness. It was as if everything had shifted into place. They were completely comfortable around each other. That, in and of itself, was magical. They moved in sync as they made breakfast; snuggled on the couch, trading kisses and stories.

Unfortunately, before too long, Alec had to leave. He had two fur babies that would not be happy they had to wait until nearly noon for food.

“You could bring them over here. So they don’t get lonely.” Magnus said as Alec had put on his clothes from the day before.

“Are you sure your cat won’t mind?” Alec countered.

“Well…he will have to get used to them sometime, right?” They hadn’t talked about the next steps in their relationship, but they were both pretty sure that they would be moving in together sooner rather than later.

“Maybe a play date?” Alec suggested.

“Tomorrow?” Magnus asked hopefully.

“Tomorrow.” Alec agreed.

Epilogue - Three months later

Magnus growled as his liner skipped, again. Alec walked over to him, passing the bed where a kitten pile had developed on Magnus’ discarded clothes. Alec knew Magnus was nervous. This was the first time he was going to meet his soulmate’s family. It would be nerve wracking for anyone.

“You look stunning.” Alec said, leaning down to kiss Magnus’ cheek.

“One side is thicker than the other.”

“Magnus, relax. Everything is going to be just fine. Izzy is very excited to meet you, having heard of you from the modeling world.” Alec tried to pump his soulmate up.

Magnus met Alec’s eyes in the mirror. “What if they don’t want me in the family?” It hit Alec like a ton of bricks. Magnus had already been shunned from his biological family and now here was another chance at rejection.

Alec knelt down next to Magnus. “They won’t. My siblings are much more open minded than my parents. Izzy knew I was gay before I even told her. Max wanted to cut all ties with our father when he tried to disown me. They will love you, because I love you, but also because you are loveable.” Magnus smiled as his eyes watered. “The only one we have to worry about is my mother. I don’t think she will be cruel, but she can be stone faced. But if she doesn’t accept you, then I won’t accept her.”

-=-=-=-=-

“Alec!” Izzy nearly threw herself at her big brother as she opened the door. Alec caught her in his arms and Magnus just stood in awe. They could pass for twins. They were both tall and thin with dark hair. Her eyes turned to Magnus and she let go of her brother. “And you must be Magnus.”

“Yes.” They shook hands as two little kids peered out.

“Uncle Alec!” The cousins say in unison. Alexis had a head of curly dark hair while her cousin, Luke, had short brown hair. They were the only cousins close enough in age. Alexis was four years younger than Izzy and Simon’s middle daughter, Abby. But Luke and Alexis were only a year apart.

“Lexi, Luke.” Alec said, scooping the two little ones up into his arms. “I want you to meet someone.” Suddenly all eyes were on him and Magnus had not even gotten in the door. “This is my soulmate, Magnus.”

“Hi.” Alexis waved at him, but being five and more inquisitive Luke asked.

“Soulmate? Like mommy and daddy?”

“That is right dear.” Izzy said, taking her song from Alec’s arms and motioning them in. “Uncle Alec now as a soulmate.”

“Uncle Magnus?” Luke asked, looking from his mom to his uncle.

“If that is alright with Magnus.” Alec sat Alexis down and looked at Magnus. Uncle wow that was quick.

“Yeah. I would like that.” Magnus nodded.

“Uncle Mans.” Little four year old tried saying. Magnus smiled.

Luke took Magnus by the hand and introduced him to the rest of the family. First off was his two older sisters that were on the couch not inches apart but on their phones.

“Abby, Lizzie. Uncle Magnus.” Luke introduced Magnus, with Alec stepping in to tell the nine and eleven year old, respectively, that Magnus was his soulmate. Abby was shy, like her father and only smiled, but Lizzie was the clone of her mother.

“Nice fit. Armani?”

“Yes.” Magnus nodded looking down at his dusty green jacket.

“Last fall’s collection, correct?”

“Yes. You know your styles well.”

“Thanks. Mom takes me to work with her a lot.”

“Soon enough she will know more clothes then I will.” Izzy commented. “But I am still so proud of my little fashionista.”

“Mom.” The preteen whined and hid behind her phone.

Next was Max and his wife, Erica. Max was nearly the same height as Alec, but had a mess of curls much like his daughter. A family of giants.

“Max, good to see you.” The brothers hugged and then Alec leaned down to gently side hug Erica as she was holding the youngest member of the Lightwood clan, two year old Peter.

“It's good to see you too, Alec.” Erica tilted her head at Magnus and sighed. Taking something out of her pocket she gave it to her husband. “You win.”

“You win?” Alec asked, echoing Magnus’ own thoughts. Had they made a bet about them? Or about him? Magnus suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“Your brother bet me that your soulmate would be shorter than you. I said he would be the same height or taller.” Alec laughed and that broke any tension Magnus had felt. His soulmate pulled Magnus closer to him.

“He is shorter by maybe an inch or two.” Magnus made a show of laying his head on Alec’s shoulder.

“Yes, but what I lack in height I make up for in style.”

The last person on the list to meet was Maryse Lightwood, the matriarch of the family. After Max had left home there was nothing else holding the family together. Robert had been cheating on her for years and Maryse had just looked the other way. Once the divorce was final Maryse moved closer to her youngest child. She had enjoyed being a grandmother more than she had being a mother. There were no external pressures, just love.

“Mother. I want you to meet Magnus, my soulmate.” Alec said, one arm around Magnus’ back. Alec was not sure what his mother would do. They didn’t talk that often and only for short amounts of time. She was trying, he knew that.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lightwood.” Magnus held out his hand like he had for Max and his wife and waited. It didn’t exactly take that long for Maryse to react, but to the soulmates it was an eternity.

Maryse sat her glass of wine down on a side table and leaned in, putting her arms around Magnus and hugged him tight, much to Alec’s shock.

“Thank you for making my son happy.” She whispered into Magnus' ear. Pulling back she had a bright smile on her face. “And welcome to the family.”

“Mom! Can you help me wrangle the kids?” Izzy called out to her mom. The younger ones were underfoot while the older ones were on their phones.

“If you will excuse me.” She grabbed her glass and headed for the kitchen. “Now, who is getting into trouble in here?”

Alec’s mouth was still slightly agape, his mind not comprehending what had just happened. “I think Mom might have had too much wine.”

Magnus just smiled, keeping what she had said a little secret to himself for now. He had been welcomed into the Lightwood family by every single member. It was like a dream come true.

#shmb2023 #shadowhunters #malec #au non magic #fanfiction

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hetalia-club · 3 months ago

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CK3 GOT Hetalia Mod- House Targaryen

House Targaryen is my 'smaller' house. As in I really didn't have to do much to set it up, most of it was already just done for me. Like making a bunch of dragons and what not I only had to make 4. That being said teh Dragons & Their Personalities are more 'set' in this house because I already had them thought up before I started this, they exist as characters in my AU so I know what they look like, their names and personalities. So I did modify them to reflect it. So get ready for some longer in-depth Dragon descriptions riddled with Lore and personality.

In House Targaryen to start as King Jaehaerys, with your player heir set to Prussia. I set this house up last and REALLY liked the idea of keeping in normal families so I'm Going to do that as well and just set heirs since I taught myself how to do that without changing laws. I like that they get a bunch of premade historical siblings with their own lore and shit.

No need to have a meeting to declare your heir between 'Rhaneys & Visaryes' Prussia is your named heir and so long as he does not die tragically somehow then when Jaehareys dies you'll play as him. House Targaryen's goal? Re-form The Seven Kingdoms and don't lose it in the process.

First Up: Prince Gilbert Targaryen heir to the Iron Throne & Prince & High Lord Of Dragon Stone

Prince Gilbert is: Arrogant, Brave and Sadistic and Vengeful. He is August, Skilled Tactician, Holy Warrior, Skilled Warrior, Journaller, Dragon Rider and he is plagued with Dragon Dreams which eat away at his mental health making him paranoid and giving him visions of the past and future. I was going to make him a Zealot but Zealots are really not fun to play as at all. He is High Valyrian and follows the Faith of the Seven. He's married to his older sister Aelroa, whom he hates. and she hates him. In all three of my start ups he's killed her getting himself the 'kin slayer' trait. He's on of my favorite characters I've made in my AU just because there is a lot of magic and mystery surrounding him. As you can see he currently lives on Dragon stone as an Independent ruler. Spends a lot of time in the Dragon pits I imagine him in there sinning the Dragon Lullaby like every single day like he is their personal MP3 player.

Sliverclaw is Gilberts Dragon and Best Friend. When he has Dragon Dreams he IS Silverclaw flying around and terrorizing the country sides. Silverclaw is a younger and smaller dragon sharing an age & birthday with Gilbert. But makes up for it by being Swift, Magnificent and a Destined Dragon. Silverclaw is: Aggressive, Accepting, Impulsive and Trained. If Gilbert is Killed SIlverclaw will adopt the 'widowed dragon' trait and will refuse to ever take another rider and go wild, even if caught it will not accept a new rider (I tried to program him to fly to Essos but it seems entirely random where they go). Silverclaw was hatched from an Egg that was thought to be turned into stone until the night Gilbert was born. It's said that the moment he let out his first cry the brilliant silver egg on display in the throne room let out loud crack that could be heard through the entirety of the Red Keep, Some of the small folk even swear up and down the sound woke them as well. And from the Egg out crawled Silverclaw, a Silver dragon whos scales shone like diamonds with icy blue eyes. After informing the King she was taken to Gilbert so they could cradle together. As they grew up together people would say they were not sure where the boy ended and the Dragon began. Gilbert took Silverclaw everywhere with him perched on his shoulder until he was arguably far too big for it. Even when she was getting too large to sleep in his bed he would sneak to the Dragon Pits to sleep with her there, which he still does alot of nights. (Silverclaw is a Female Dragon and has laid eggs in my play throughs)

Next is: Prince Ivan Targaryen Heir to the Lordship of Dragonstone.

Prince Ivan is: Shy, Just, and Ambitious. He is Avaricious, Quick, Hale, a Trained Fighter, a Squire and a Dragon Rider. He is High Valyrian and follows the Faith of The Seven. He is Betrothed to his sister Natalya who he does not like. And has a Crush on his cousin Amelia Stark.

He rides Maegor: A very large and vicious dragon. His scales are a deep blue with black wings and black eyes. Maegor is: Skittish, Cooperative, Accepting, Aggressive and Well Socialized and a Titanic Leviathan. Maegor is a picky dragon and has only ever had two riders. The most recent being Ivan who he took to instantly. Ivan was attempting to bond with Dreamfyre. But As he was attempting it and Dreamfyre was refusing the match politely, Maegor came from the depths of the pits to claim him instead. Everyone thought at first he was just grouchy and was coming to kill everyone for being too loud and waking him up. Since he basically snuck up on them just poking his large head up. The Trainers ran away urging the young Price to do the same who was frozen with fear. Maegor took the place of Dreamfyre who had moved away from Ivan and he lowered his head without even being told. Urging him to climb on. The Trainers urged the Prince not to. Thinking it were a trick to get him closer. Since Maegor was know as a highly aggressive and dangerous dragon. Ivan didn't listen and approached and climbed on after Maegor lowered his wing for teh small child to use as a boost. No one knows what caused Maegor to do that. It could be he was just bored and wanting a new rider or maybe he had his eye on Ivan since he was born since Gilbert used to bring him to the pits (Against everyone's wishes). Whatever the reason Maegor has helped Ivan come out of his shell. Having such a fearsome and aggressive dragon march himself over to you when he had never taken another rider made him feel 'chosen'. And in a way he was chosen. No one understands the bond Targaryens and Dragons have or what makes a Dragon choose a rider. Much less teh Targaryens themselves. If it's force, fate, a mind link? Dragons are smart maybe he just wanted to be ridden by a future king? Maybe he was stir crazy and wanted to go back to war? Perhaps he just liked teh cut of Ivan's jib? We'll never know. What we do Know is this is NOT a dragon you want to be on the bad side of. Maegor enjoys burning people far too much. He seems the happiest when he's causing absolute mayhem, which is strange he would pick such a passive rider. Maybe he knows something about Ivan the rest of us dong? A madness within? (This is a Male dragon)

Next: Princess Natalya Targaryen

Natalia is: Cynical & Vengeful. She is Fire Obsessed, and cute. Not much to say about her yet. She's kind of a brat, but she is a Princess so what would you expect? She is High Valyian and follows the Faith of The Seven.

Alyrya is Natalya's Dragon. It quite literally just hatched. It has no traits. It is Bright white with white wings and blood red eyes. It currently lives in the Red Keep and spends time with Natalya. Who knows what kind of personality it will develop.

Next: Prince Felikx Targaryen

Prince Felikx is: Gregarious and Arrogant. He is a Conniving Puppet Master, Schemer, Spider, Fashionable, Cute and a Dragon Rider. He's High Valyrian and follows the Faith of the Seven. He is married to Addison Lannister (Alfred's Aunt & Ludwig's Sister).

His Dragon his named Neerhem: Calculating, Reserved, Accepting, Friendly and Well trained. He is a dark purple with dark purple eyes. Neerhem has the name "The Dreaded" From the small folk. But the Targaryens will tell a different Story. Though he is large and can melt stone with his fire Neerhem would much rather take a long nap in the warm summer sun than do anything at all. He enjoys the company of people and other dragons alike. He has had many riders, his latest is of course Felikx. He has never hurt a Targaryen or a Keeper, no matter his size and reputation. He goes to war but he does not enjoy it. The tamers think it stresses him out to hear people scream. So he's really just a gentle giant. Even if you have a failed bonding or run into him in the dragon pit. Your chances of getting killed by him are extremely low seeing how he's never done it before without being told. He will even let teh Tamers give him pats on the snout. When his previous rider had him burn someone alive Neerhem retreated to Dragon Stone. The Dragon Tamers say he was being disobedient while the Targaryen's say he was feeling guiltily. He did come back to Kings Landing on his own after a few weeks of sulking. But his bond with his rider was never the same after that. He enjoys being ridden by Felikx, Felikx has little care about fighting in battel or burning people alive. His strengths lie in the shadows stealing secrets. So Neerhem is quiet happy just going on the occasional leisurely fly. Neerhem is also one of the few dragons who will let people he's unbonded with fly on his back, so long as his rider is present. He has no issue when Felikx brings his wife or young children onto his back. (Neerhem is a male dragon)

Next: Emil Targaryen

Emil is: Calm, trusting, Content and Pensive. He is Handsome, Has Dragon Dreams and is a Dragon Rider. Called the "Wandering Dragon" Emil hardly stays put for any amount of time Since he claimed his Dragon it is difficult to keep him in one place. He keeps a book documenting his travels from The wall to the Shadow lands. His dream is to go everywhere, even lands uncharted.

Jaedor is Emil's Dragon. A Bright Orange and yellow dragon with fiery orange eyes. Jaedor is: Imperious, Skittish, Defiant and Trained. Much like his rider Jaedor enjoys exploring. She refuses to stay in the pits and before he was bonded to Emil he was considered "wild" Missing in action. She had refused a rider his entire life until escaping the pits when he was 20 and has lived on his own since. Some thought she may have flown back to Valyria or perhaps been devoured by Cannibal. Though every now and aging reports of a wild orange and yellow dragon would surface by sailors near the storm lands. But one day when the young Emil at the age of nine put on a hood and ventured out of the city through the tunnels and exploring the country side he returned on dragon back with Jaedor who he said he found in a cave by the beach, which is where he remains. Emil said he shouted to her by name knowing him to be the 'rouge' dragon his father had told him about. Jaedor flew away and he stayed at the cave waiting for him to come back. The dragon did come back and seemed annoyed but not angry to have a visitor, perhaps she had been lonely with no other dragons or Targaryens to keep him company? After sitting with the dragon a few hours Jaedor allowed Emil to touch her and when she roared and hissed at him Emil did not back down and told her to "be calm" in Valyrian Which Jaedor did and allowed Emil to climb onto her back. He seems to always know when Emil wants to ride her and will hang around the dragon pits on those days. Both are impossible to keep tied down. Emil Does not use a saddle while riding Jaedor instead he grips onto her spikes. Jaedor seems to be an exceptionally bright dragon seeming to understand every word that Emil speaks to her. Emil swears she does understand and they can have entire conversations in Valyrian and Jaedor will respond to him inside of his mind. Perhaps it's true maybe they do share a psychic link? Or maybe the Targaryen madness is setting in? They say when a Targaryen spends too much time with dragons they lose their sense of humanity and their dragon side begins to take over. And Emil spends months and months with no one but Jaedor as a companion. Which begs the question what do dragons like to talk about? (Jaedor is a female dragon)

Lastly: Lady Elise Targaryen

Lady Elise is: Calm, Honest and Shy and a Dragon Rider. At the Start of the game. Elise is only five and her personality is not very shaped out.

Elise is in possession of a golden dragon egg. But if we use code to force it to hatch we can see who's inside! It's a bronze and white dragon! It looks like it's a little unhealthy being born with the Spindly trait. (Don't know the gender)

Claimable/Owned Dragons in the Pits of Kings Landing: (Familiar faces!) Balerion 'The Black Dread'- Calculating, Cooperative, Blood Thirsty, Imperious and a Titanic Leviathan. (male) Vagar- Lone Wolf, Accepting, Impulsive. (Female) Caraxes- Aggressive, Blood Thirsty, Calculating, Spindly & Fearsome Wyrm. (Male) Silverwing- Accepting, Cooperative, Friendly, Perfectly trained and fertile. (Female) Meleys 'The Red Queen'- Imperious, Accepting, Reserved, and Swift Dreamfyre- Calculating, Imperious, Defiant, and Fertile. (Female) Vermithor 'The Bronze Furry'- Imperious, Aggressive, Cooperative, Great Drake (Male)

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climbermal · 2 months ago

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⤑ simone ashley, appears to be 29 but is 35, cis female, she/her

𓇢𓆸 my my, if it isn't Malavika “Mal” Yadhavar, my favorite vampire in town. you know, though people say they can be rather impulsive and arrogant, i know they’re really dauntless and passionate. but hey, what do i know? i’ve only known them for 5 years. if you need to get in touch, you can probably find them at their work as an owner at Apex Climbing Gym.

starters | musings | aesthetic | more links?

⤑ ooc info: ghoulie, she/her, 26, central.

Biography

Malavika Yadhavar was born into a tiny Tamil community in Cape Town, South Africa to a large family. Her parents owned a successful restaurant in Camps Bay. In addition to her regular chores working with her family, Mal would spend every available moment in the gorgeous nature where she lived. She very quickly discovered a talent for rock climbing. By the time she was eight, Mal began participating in South African National Climbing Federation (SANCF) competitions. Medals accumulated and she went from local climbing comps to international competitions, traveling around the world as a boulder and lead climber.

When Mal was fifteen, her family made the difficult decision to emigrate to the U.S. There was already a large community of South Africans in Atlanta and the Yadhavar family followed a number of close friends. Mal continued to rock climb, traveling around the country and competing. While her parents preferred for her to go to college for something stable, Mal 'hired' her best friend and the two jumped into the internet personality occupation. She made a good living from her competitions but becoming a brand ambassador paid even more.

Her life turned upside down after a rare night out on her 29th birthday. Mal was much more likely to go to bed by 9 PM but she had a lot to celebrate. Nike agreed to sponsor her even though she’d moved away from competitions and more towards education, conservation, and impressive outdoor feats. Her own line of climbing gear would be available in REI. One evening of clubhopping later and Jasika woke up with a wound on her neck and the worst hangover imaginable.

She confided in her best friend who became her blood donor after she attacked a couple one night after losing the ability to control herself but she couldn’t trust herself after. Having spent enough time climbing in Colorado, Mal had heard of the town with excellent crags and natural bouldering problems but also to avoid it at all costs. She broke off her contracts, despite how heartbreaking it was, and moved to Blackwater as soon as she knew it was a safe place for things like her.

Attempting to give up climbing was impossible and Mal quickly pushed herself into finding her new limits as a vampire. She opened up Apex Climbing Gym in an industrial park near her home in Rocky Knoll. She found someone who could handle the business side of things and focused on route-setting and trying not to yearn for her former life. She has a lot of thoughts about how her new supernatural abilities have impacted her climbing but she didn’t know who to talk to about it.

Connections

(I'm only listing plotted connections. Always open for non plotted ones !!! also will do this when I have more time)

#bwfm.intro #about.

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appendingfic · 3 months ago

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Well this is nonsense

"Today, we're looking at a perfect example of the diversity that makes up America - a town that doesn't celebrate the Purge. Green Hills, Montana, was like any other U.S. town in 2017, the first year of the nation-wide Purge. But unlike almost every other town in America, they woke up the next morning to find no one had died, and that the worst the rest of the town suffered was some light vandalism. Maybe, they figured, it was all down to chance. But the same thing happened the next year, and the next. For three years, Green Hills has been an oasis from the tension those of us who spend Purge Night barricaded in our homes feel. We're here with Green Hills Deputy Sheriff Wade Whipple, to answer some questions."

The news host was sitting in a small police station with a nervous brown-haired man who smiled awkwardly at her.

"So. Deputy. I want to hear it straight from the source - you haven't had a single death in town because of the Purge?"

"The - oh! Oh, never! It's actually…surprised the he - heck out of us. Not for, uh, around here, folks get along pretty well, but you hear about people rolling in from out of town. Emerald Coast had, uh, problems with that, and someone burned down the Ice Cap Resort last year. But we didn't get any of that."

"Any idea why?"

Deputy Whipple shrugged. "I couldn't say. Cra - ah, Carl Jenkins, a local, says it's the work of the Blue Devil, our local cryptid. He used to try to catch it, but now he calls it our - guardian angel."

"But it isn't just the out-of-towners, Deputy. The NFFA tells us that the Purge is necessary to expel the negative emotions we build up toward each other-"

"Well, people around here are pretty good at keeping the air clear, you know?" Deputy Whipple interrupts. "Keep that stuff from festering. And if stuff's boiling over, we've got our sheriff, Tom Wachowski to calm things down."

"Well. You heard it here. It takes all kinds to make the United States work, and this little town is one of a kind."

The image stilled.

"So what are we looking at here?"

The men at the table turned to the middle-aged man in military dress standing before them. "Don't you see what's going on here?"

"One town in America has the uncommon luck to avoid the consequences of the Purge."

"No!" One of the men slams a hand on the table. "One town in America is claiming The Purge doesn't work! Can you imagine if this idea catches on? That there's a way to stop people from Purging? The entire system we've built to keep things under control falls apart."

"And what exactly do you propose I do about it? Managing the Purge is a little outside my purview, gentlemen."

One of the men smiled. "Ah, didn't you hear the bit in that interview about their town's local cryptid? The Blue Angel or whatever?"

"What - I send some of my agents out to Montana to dig around town like Mulder and Sculley? I don't see how that helps your problem."

"Well…we were going to suggest you put the responsibility of this on one of your…contractors."

Eyebrows raised. "No. Not - there's a reason he's only ever been tapped for contracts outside the country. He has a - fairly liberal view when it comes to acceptable losses with collateral…damage."

"We were thinking we could set the timeline for his investigation. Perhaps a holiday weekend?"

"And perhaps…I could recommend he limit his drones' weaponry to class 4 and below?"

"Good thinking, Commander Walters," another of the men replied with a smile to the others. "We wouldn't like to imagine anything illegal happening. Not during The Purge."

#dumb writing ideas #sonic the hedgehog #scu #the purge #shitposting

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tanoraqui · 1 year ago

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☔for the fic ask game!

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

There is in my heart a canon divergence fic, maybe proper narrative maybe just bullet points, which I have functionally written out as much as I ever will below this cut, in which:

Shortly before the Fall of Númenor and more importantly the Changing of the World, Finrod has a Prophecy of what's coming

He tells Celechwes, who says, "Oh, I...am not okay with it. I didn't plan to go back, but if I can't? If the road truly, utterly only goes one way? That's- that's not okay. I can't, I won't live like that."

So Celechwes goes and talks to some people (quietly, unofficially), who talk to some other people (quietly, unofficially)...

She ends up leading a small fleet that sets out from a southern port just a few days before the Númenoreans are expected to land in the north (fully aiming to avoid the Men). it's about half veterans of Beleriand who have never felt like they fit in on Aman (45% Fëanorians but many close followers of Fingon and more non-Noldor), a quarter elves from other places who don't want to be cut off forever from what was once home, and a quarter Aman-born elves who've grown up on stories of mortal lands and who feel a little restless in the Land of Bliss.

(Finrod joins at the last moment. Amarië found him sitting on a balcony overlooking Valmar and sadly playing the song he once played as the Beorlings woke to see their first shining elf-lord, and she said, "Findaráto Ingoldo, Finrod Felagund Adanil, I will not willingly part from you again - but nor do I want to arrive in the lands across the sea only for war a second time, too late to see all their storied beauty. Also, you know Mingoneth* convinced Veryawendë* to join the fleet, right? Can you imagine how much trouble they'll get into with only Celechwes for supervision?" And he looked up, and saw that she'd packed both their long-distance travel bags.) *OCs, see: "Of the Golden Horde"

(By then, Rawen Ectheliel, once Lieutenant Right Hand of Himring, had already apologized to her wife - who thought they were done with this sort of thing - and followed her lady aboard. She IS done with this sort of thing (ie, rebellion; the House of Fëanor...as it became). But she lost Himring; she couldn't abide herself if she let ill fate befall Celechwes as well.)

The thing about being on at sea when the world abruptly turns from flat into a globe, sailing from a continent that is no longer on said globe, is that you get EXTREMELY turned around and lost. And, frankly, split up as a fleet.

[Cue: several-decades-long montage of several hundred elves - about half hardened (relaxed, but still hardened) war veterans, a quarter friendly nature people just trying to get home, and a quarter kids (in the eyes of all the rest) who have never met a real mortal before - scattered throughout the new southern hemisphere in ones and twos and a few coherent shiploads, trying to find each other and - for most - make their way north toward the lands and people that they know best.]

(If they happen to arrive in time to help beat the ever-loving shit out of Sauron, that's not, like, a drawback for anyone.)

Adventures are had! Hardened war veterans process trauma and old grudges (and sometimes get new ones). People re-find old homes and settle down once more, or realize that either home or they have changed and continue onward with their new companions. Kids grow up.

After a number of sidequests and other delays - flooding rivers, saving an innocent forest from an encroaching swarm of giant spiders, saving a small country from a neighboring evil king influenced by fell whispers from the depths below his castle... It occurs to some of them that all these delays might not be coincidence. They haven't received any official penalties from the Valar for their, er, polite but overt defiance of if not the letter than certainly the spirit of several laws, but...

"I think we are being made Agents of Good," Amarië said thoughtfully. "I think the price of being here is that we must lend a hand where it is needed, where the Great Ones fear to tread for their touch is not...'delicate'...at the best of times."

Celechwes did not like being used without her permission. But, fallen Beleriand never forgotten, she couldn't fault Amarië's analysis.

"I think we should try leaning into it," Finrod suggested. "They'll see that we're here in good faith, and no doubt speed our journey to where our hearts most yearn to go."

(The nearby stream blooped encouragingly, because Ulmo had been explicitly forbidden from giving explicit messages again.)

A few nights later, a local Mannish hunter approached their camp. Emphasis, perhaps, on Man-ish. Her eyes were the blue of a northern wolf-dog. She asked for help scouring the nearby mountains of a dark cult.

[cue: several more decades of montaged adventures. the local folk legends will be rich for generations]

They do arrive in the north just in time to help kick Sauron's fucking ass. Though not early enough to avert the tragedy of the Battle of Dagorlad, they learn later. But before the final, would-be pyrrhic victory; when the soldiers of the Last Alliance are marching into Mordor proper.

Galadriel is the first to know - she's aiding in a healing tent on the foul northern border, ready to ride in a second wave or to hold firm any retreat, when a mind touches her which she hadn't expected to feel again ere either the remaking of the world or her own death and rebirth (for she still had no intention of Sailing.)

Alatariel! her eldest brother calls. How goes the day? I've missed you, of course! Also, do you have a recommendation for where best to land 500 assorted elves, men and cavalry mounts coming up from the south, that we may swiftly come to whatever aid you all need?

A day later, a small host stood at the crest of the path past retaken Minas Ithil, looking out over the shadowed plains of Mordor. All before them was bloodied and embattled: Men fought Men, Elves fought Orcs, eagles and other goodly birds clashed in midair with giant bats and scrawny but deadly petty firedrakes. The very earth groaned in pain beneath the enemy's chains. And far in the distance, near the foot of a fire-spitting mountain, two star-studded banners - one white on black above a white tree, one silver stars on a blue field - approached a red eye on black.

At the head of the bannerless Host of the Returned, Rawen - generally elected battle-leader - raised her blade. Celechwes put a hand on her arm. "Do not call 'Súlaearil.' It's embarrassing. Don't do it." "My lady," Rawen protested, with her particular intonation that made it clear she was saying 'your majesty.' "No," Celechwes said firmly. "'Finwë and the North'?" suggested the elf on Rawen's other side, once third in command of Fingon's Dragon-frighters. "Can't go wrong with that," agreed Finrod, a little further down the line. Rawen sighed. Her blade, which had sagged a little, she raised straight again, then pointed forward with that battle-cry that had long united the great Siege-line of the Noldor: "Finwë and the North!"

"FINWË AND THE NORTH!" roared the Host of the Returned - all hardened veterans by now, though less brittle in it than some had begun. The fiery-faithful of Himring and the valorous of Barad Eithel, the quick of Ossiriand and the cunning of Nargothrond and the devoted of Doriath, the bold and restless of Aman and those who loved Middle Earth so dearly that they could do naught but defend it; slayers of orcs and spiders and feller beasts, saviors of lands besieged and heroes of legend, swept down from the heights to descend upon Sauron's unsuspecting eastern flank.

Ahead of them all streaked a single swift rider, blond hair streaming in the wind of her passage. Her mount was a prong-horned antelope from the plains far to the south, faster than any cavalry horse (and not usually suited to riding, but blue-eyed Alatar had whispered it some encouragement before they'd parted).

They leapt the first line of the enemy, hastily reassembling itself to meet this unexpected new foe. They jerked and dodged and ducked through the others, as behind them the battle lines slammed together. Jagged orcish blades came at her, and the sharp iron of men enraptured or enslaved to the dark, but mostly in passing - they didn't have time for a single rider driving through with no weapons of her own, her only goal the bright silver-on-blue star in the distance.

Eventually a pair of clever firedrakes managed to herd them up one of the low, ragged cliffs that spurted up here and there on the barren land. Celechwes rolled off her antelope to avoid a stream of fire and ran the other way without hesitation - the quick, clever creature would get to safety far more ably with no heavy elf on its back. Without, slowing, she sprinted off the edge of the cliff.

She'd planned to tuck and roll to the bottom, then pick herself up and keep running. The land ahead was clear for a few miles, save for the pits. Instead, great, sharp talons grasped her gently, and (non-specifically) familiar wings beat around her, with a screech that echoed in her bones.

She laughed as one Great Eagle dropped her carefully toward another. With a sailor's grace she landed with both feet on its broad, shifting back, and returned a joyous screech of challenge into the racing wind.

Below and ahead (though less far with every wingbeat), Ereinion Gil-galad looked up. Eagles had been screaming for battle all day, all month, but for a moment he could've sworn -

Celechwes's eagle dove to avoid a vampire. She dropped her knees and gripped its feathers tightly, and thanked the stars that she wasn't trying to do this while keeping someone from bleeding out from the wrist.

As they dove toward the volcano and the forces advancing against one another there, she eagle-shrieked again, in greeting this time, and shouted, "Erein, hold your position! Re-enforcements are coming!"

Even - nay, especially the High King of the Noldor in Middle Earth knew better than to question the finest royal courier in Beleriand, much less his mother the queen. "Hold!" Gil-galad bellowed over the clash of blades.

Celechwes circled back up, looking back across the field. But Sauron, too, had heard her message, and knew a victory when it was about to slip from his grasp. Mighty and fell, he strode forward toward the banners of Gil-galad and Elendil, and the kings of Elves and Men.

In swift, vicious, terrible combat they were soon joined, Sauron with his dark, burning blade and Gil-galad with bright Aeglos and Elendil with shining Narsil. Likely, at best, all would have been slain -

But Celechwes hadn't been the only one of her host riding hard across the dark plains, dallying with no enemy save the greatest foe. She was only (as ever) the fastest.

"HEY, GORTHAUR!" yelled Finrod Felagund, with a particular intonation that made it clear he was saying, Hey, motherfucker! "I CALL REMATCH!"

And this time, as he raised his voice in a Song of trust unbroken and faith fulfilled, of Sea and sand and second chances, Amarië of the Vanyar Sang with him, their souls entwined, she who had learned to Sing from Maiar on the slope of Ezollohar where stood the Trees; and with them also Sang their daughter Veryawendë Tinúviel, named by prophecy from both parents, fated to be a bright melody in darkness and a great change in the world, and this was not her time but still the Great Music swirled thick around her; and you bet your ass Galadriel had also ridden down from the north to join as fast as she was able -

The last time Galadriel and Amarië joined their voices in powerful harmony had been the final duel between Morgoth and Finarfin, Anairë, and the last of the Host of the Noldor. With Sauron's power reflected and redoubled unto himself through his terrible Ring, this duel was no less hard-won, but it was very definitively won. They even prevented him from erupting the volcano as a final spiteful blow.

"We should destroy the Ring," Gil-galad said at the end, exhausted, bloody, and leaning on Elrond for support. Isildur eyed it - shining golden on Sauron's cut-off black hand - with battle-fire lingering in his grey eyes. "I would rather claim it as weregild, for Anarion - " "For the love of - " said Celechwes, dismounted now that the worst of the battle was over (though there was a great deal of mopping-up to do, of orcs, corrupted men and etc.) "Is this still the Noldorin influence?" she demanded, of nobody in particular. "Or is it a new Edainic thing? No, I suppose Thingol fell to it in the end, too - is it being inland? Do you not spend enough time near the sea, and that's why you're constantly obsessed with cursed jewelry? Here, I'll do it - don't go anywhere, Erein; I'll be right back."

She shucked off her leather hauberk to use as a glove, picked up Sauron's still coal-hot black hand, and sprinted up the volcano slope before anyone else could say a word.

"...I'm really sorry," Elendil said into the relative quiet that followed, "I think I know who you are, my lord - " he bowed toward Finrod, as best he could while leaning bloody and exhausted on Isildur - "and Lady Galadriel, I'm so glad you caught up with us. But I'm not sure about any of these other ladies who have come to our rescue? Including that one?" He jerked his head toward the bright-haired figure already halfway up Oroduin's rocky slope, with the air of a man wondering if he should call for soldiers to chase after her.

"That's my mother," said Gil-galad.

"Ah," said Elendil and Isildur, with perfect understanding. They, too, had mothers.

The Forge of Sauron rumbled ominously, shuddered and spat out first sparks, then sprays of lava. Celechwes, briefly out of sight in the cavern near the top, sprinted back down ahead of the molten rock, empty handed.

"Everyone move!" she shouted. "Should've evacuated first! Go, go, go!"

And then everyone lived happily after - though a lot of them probably did Sail not long thereafter, including most of the Host of the Returned - including the Finrod, Amarië, and Veryawendë, though not bold-hearted Mingoneth, and Celechwes, and Gil-galad. Because they'd accomplished a Great Task and Aman is, actually, objectively more pleasant for Elves than most mortal lands (and Beleriand was still gone). The spiritual weather is just so much better. Everyone stuck around to see Elrond and Celebrian get married, though, and to meet their kids and see Gondor and the Greenwood both regain their feet.

With no Gil-galad to come and sort out several conflicting emotions about his parents, Fingon does stay in Mandos, keeping Maedhros company for longer...but not too much longer. There weren't many casualties among the Host of the Returned, but Rawen Ectheliel was among them (her last thought is that her wife is going to be really, truly, perhaps irrevocably disappointed). She manages to find them before she leaves, the memory of Thangorodrim which Maedhros has made to hang from in his self-pity, self-loathing and twisted self-aggrandizement, where Fingon sits by his feet out of loyalty, devotion, stubbornness, pride and fear; and she gives their behavior such a scathing review that Fingon actually pulls his shit together a few years later and tentatively leaves, and Maedhros pulls one of his hands out of the chains.

#my fic #celechwes au #ask meme #the silmarillion #runawaymun

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