#more art of him being deranged would fix me i think
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actively going insane so a mafia AU skinner edit it is!!! All of the art (barring the shitty dancing guy at the start) is @flowerbloom-arts
#tweaking tf out 24/7#i need him#more art of him being deranged would fix me i think#GOD BLESS U FLOWERBLOOMSRTS AND THE IDEAS U HAVE#the tweening was also very fun which it udually isn’t#sorry it’s so short 😞 there’s not enough of him murdering people#the simpsons#seymour skinner#principal skinner#mafia school swap au#simpsons edit#the simpsons edit#skinner edit#seymour skinner edit#simpsons
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BenJacob Week Day 2: Loss
(Sorry for not uploading anything for day 1, I was sick, and it kind of snuck up on me)
Read it on AO3: All That's Dead and Gone - Turtle_The_Bean - Criminal Case (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
If you're wondering why there was no content for this week yesterday, it's not because it was art on Tumblr this time. I was sick over the past week so it just kinda creeped up on me. Anyways, enjoy!
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Work Text:
Ben always enjoyed the nighttime. When he was working for the military, it was the only time he would get away from others, but now, it was a time for him to relax with some chamomile tea while looking at the stars. It was peaceful, being alone with his own thoughts and a cup of tea beneath the stars. A nice way to unwind after a busy day.
However, tonight was not going to be as peaceful and relaxing as it was supposed to be.
It started off normal enough. He made his tea and was just about to take it outside when he heard knocking at the door. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, especially this late at night, so he peeked through the peephole. His best friend, Jacob Arrow, was standing outside, covered in blood. Frightened by this sudden interruption of his usual routine, he put his tea down on a nearby table and helped his friend into his house.
“Jake, Jesus, what happened to you?” Ben asked as his friend almost collapsed in his arms.
“I…I haven’t a clue.” Jacob panted, clutching his head with one hand and his chest with the other. Between the whole ordeal that he just escaped from and running all the way to Ben’s house, he felt dizzy, more than likely due to the hyperventilation.
“Well, before you explain, let me sit you down and fix you a cup of tea. I’ll tend to your wounds as well.”
Jacob sat himself down on the couch while Ben returned to the kitchen to make some tea for his friend. He made oolong tea, seeing as times like this would typically call for one’s favourite tea, and grabbed the first aid kit from a drawer before heading into the living room.
He first got Jacob to remove his hand from his face, revealing a deep wound underneath. It looked like it would scar, but the military made both of them used to scars. He stitched up the wound before putting a bandage on it. He then moved on to the other wounds, which were scattered around his body.
“Thanks for this.” Jacob sighed solemnly, taking a sip of his oolong tea to distract himself from the mental and physical pain.
“No problem. I mean, what are friends for?” Ben chuckled, fixing a wound on his waist, “Anyways, you mind explaining to me what happened to you?”
“I’m trying to figure that out myself. Some deranged lunatic attacked me and Lily. It…it was a weird experience.”
“Is…is Lily okay?” Ben realised Jacob’s wife wasn’t with them. But she survived, right?
“I…I think she died. After I killed the guy who was attacking us, I went to make sure she was okay and…she was cold. She lost so much blood, and I didn’t get to her in time.”
Ben stopped himself in the midst of tending to Jacob’s wounds. He saw that his friend was crying and immediately put his first aid kit away to comfort him. Both of them wished it wasn’t real, but the tears rolling down Jacob’s face confirmed it. Lily was dead, and it was all because of some random person who had broken into their house.
While Jacob had killed the perpetrator, Ben still wanted to know who it was. After all, there were plenty of people who hated the military.
“Are you able to describe the guy who did this? Anything might help.” He restarted tending to his friend’s injuries. His new plan was to finish with these injuries and let Jacob sleep while he looked up the person who attacked him.
“Call me crazy, and trust me, I feel like it, but…I think it was a vampire.” Jacob answered, voice hoarse from crying.
Ben chuckled awkwardly before realising Jacob was being completely serious. He was joking, though, right? Maybe he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation? Something was definitely up here.
“What do you mean?” Ben finished the last of his friend’s injuries so that he could look him in the eyes.
“When he attacked Lily, he bit her in the neck. Now, I’ve seen people bleed out on the battlefield, but she bled out much faster than normal. That alone wouldn’t be enough to prove it, but then there was when I tried to kill him that confirmed it. He seemed…untouchable when I shot at him like the bullets were just going through him. It wasn’t until I cut his head off with an axe that I was able to stop him.”
He wasn’t joking. That definitely sounded like the vampires you would hear about in fiction. Watching your wife die to one was probably the worst way to find out they’re real, making Ben feel even worse for Jacob.
He wasn’t sure how else to react. Hell, he hadn’t even really seen Jacob cry before. The closest he got to that was his wedding day, but that was a completely different circumstance. Marrying your wife is different to watching her die right in front of you, and nobody should experience it, especially with how recent their wedding was.
“I feel like I need something stronger than tea. Do you want a beer?” Ben got up off the couch and walked over to his fridge to get himself a drink.
“No, right now, I think I just want to sleep.”
“Do you at least want another cup of tea to get you to sleep?”
“Nah, I haven’t even drunk half of this cup. Besides, I…I think I have an idea of what I’m going to do.”
“Really? You already killed the guy. What else can you do besides defend yourself in court when they realise you killed him in self-defence?”
“You remember that guy from the army who was always a bit…cuckoo? He wasn’t that much older than us, if I remember right.”
“Falcon? What about- Oh yeah, he used to say things like werewolves were real, didn’t he? Yeah, I think I see where you’re going with this.”
“He said he was going to hunt them down after he was discharged. I’m going to find him and see if he can teach me how to defend myself and others against these people. I don’t want anyone to end up like Lily…or me.”
Ben always admired Jacob’s bravery and determination to protect everyone around him, especially those he loved and cared about. Seeing this still shining through despite what happened that night gave him hope for his friend’s future. Sure, he had some learning to do, but Ben was certain he’d get there.
“Hey,” Ben took Jacob’s hands in his, “Jake, I’m not much of a fighter, but remember, if you ever need someone to help you with your wounds, especially in battle, then you can just call me. I’ll always be there for you, no matter what.”
“Thanks, you have no clue how much that means to me, especially right now.” Jacob rested his head on Ben’s chest, falling asleep there. Ben prayed his racing heart wouldn’t wake him up but soon drifted off into a slumber of his own.
#criminal case#criminal case season 7#criminal case supernatural investigations#benxjacob week 2024#ben shepherd#jacob arrow#benjacob#criminal case benjacob
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important question. thoughts on evrart claire?? and/or feedist disco elysium thoughts in general 👀
i have SO MANY thoughts >:3
firstable EVRART!! i love him i do genuinely believe he has martainaise's best interests at heart he's just ruthless & slimy & willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. and if it ends up also benefiting him personally in the process then hey that's a bonus! that post that's like "if evrart was thin/conventionally attractive he'd be everyone's problematic fav" is sooooo true. he's MY problematic fav at least! everyone who's seen me go insane over arvid knows one thing i can't resist is some terrible sleazy fat guy with dark hair and glasses LOL. trying to draw the evrartgirls out of hiding by posting derangement on main like the one the other day that was like "i'd rock his shit so crazy his lazy eye starts seeing straight" but have yet to see results. also the person who said "there would be fanart of harry sitting in his lap" SO CORRECT. like hello the sexual tension between him and harry is soooo palpable. two minutes into meeting this man evrart's like "ah yes, praise kink. i can exploit this" & starts calling harry his special boy and shit?? oughhhhh. i have yet to search ao3 for harry/evrart because i'm afraid to be let down & find nothing.
as far as other thoughts i have PLENTY about harry. prime candidate for characters who deserve some fucking peace & rest & healing & getting fat in the process. like how can anyone not see this sad wet beast of a man & think "ohhh i need to wrap him in a blanket and take care of him & cook him a nice meal"??? of course i was always gonna be insane for him after the gym teacher reveal like?? jean being like "yeah you really let yourself go since then" OK??? lmao. the franconigerian hardbody conversation with billie was when i had to finally admit i was horny for him like okkkkkk the denial of it all yesss~
i'm a strong believer in the "harry's chronic pain came before the addiction as the result of post viral issues and is part of why he started self medicating in the first place" & considering physical activity can exacerbate the problem my ideal little "let harry get better scenario" is: QUIT the rcm and fucking take it easy for once!! sprinting around for 6 hours a day probably isn't helping! clearly he's good with kids considering cuno & the speedfreaks & the teaching history so he should go back to teaching but not gym. i wanna see art cop harry turn art teacher harry. and of course he ends up with kim who can't help but spoil him a lil bit. imo harry should totally be with someone who's into body worship & both totally adores his body as is and adores it even more with all the changes that come along with healing. all his self loathing makes me SO fucking sad like "this body's worthless anyway no one ever does anything nice to it" fucking DEVASTATING line. so yeah I think it would fix him at least a little bit esp bcus it would totally play into his praise kink. like i don't even really ever imagine him & kim in an explicitly feedist relationship or anything but more a incidental wg as a result of healing thing & kim just loves it and harry gradually learns to hate himself less in the process. ALSO i have definitely thought plenty about the implications of electrochemistry expressing disappointment about the ice cream freezer being empty. like ok so the sex & drugs & pleasure skill is the one that concerns itself with food also. say less.
& then of course there's garte my little meow meow babygirl. really goes to show all i need is for a man to make me laugh & have cute chubby cheeks & i'll be like "i need to turn him into my submissive little puppy who i put on a leash & give so many treats". something about the way he's sooo sad and pathetic but also plays the big shot (like with the whole "bad ass" thing and "yeah i manage many many cafeterias" when it's just 3 and one is a kebab stand lol) just makes you wanna put him in his place. & the fact that harry is so easily able to get him to consider the stupid cock carousel bullshit makes me think ok you could probably also convince him to be your spoiled feedee even though he'd definitely be a brat about it. there's no real strong evidence towards this like with harry but garte totally has a praise kink too i can just tell & wanna use it against him soooo badly.
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I love your asexual explanation if it had more weight in reality I would be more understanding.
...however....
...I know too much...
I probably just don't like fake bitches and the commander was a real one that tried to make an informed decision for the sake of everyone else. It was a poor one, don't get me wrong.
Volo....
He wants to become the gods of the next world because he thinks the Pokemon world sucks despite the fact that the internet hasn't even been invented yet and he only knows one freaking area like damn you haven't even seen the rest of the world. what.. does he look at people who are being happy and goes "that is fake??" I can't imagine the pain that he must have think that he's gone through to apply it to literally everyone.
He's going to fix this usurping God? how??? HOW does he know anything about being God?? What makes him think that he has the qualifications for that??
It's the equivalent of looking at somebody's cool art piece and then trying to destroy that cool art piece to make a better art piece without even knowing how to make art
Oh yeah and that art piece is the state of reality of which you exist on.
The commander wouldn't have made that decision if Volo wasn't being a stupid bitch.
(Sorry I've been holding this unkept rage for a while because people don't realize the gravity of what Volo was trying to do.
I should probably delete most of this but you seem like the type that would enjoy it so...*shrugs
Maybe discussing this with you might make me stop being so angry at this because you're so insightful.)
qhkjhkjh ok first of all "I love your asexual explanation" took me OUT. is that what it is. ghskjshskjh i guess so
anyway like. and to start off with this is NOT me trying to defend volo. he's evil and deranged and most of all kind of pathetic and these are INTEGRAL parts of his character. but. i really do think that in the end he's someone with severe clinical depression in an era where that isn't really a recognized Thing you can get Help For and who also has been given esoteric knowledge about the nature of the gods that rule reality that apparently everyone else has forgotten. so instead of going "everything is terrible and it's pointless" it's "everything is terrible... and i know an extremely drastic way to fix it." that's at least the angle i come at him from.
and as for the second part... this is i think something that's more my take than like, canon or fanon, But. usually the way i come at it is that volo didn't want to make himself god, he wanted to make giratina god. he wanted giratina to usurp arceus and create its own ideal world, wherein he would presumably be rewarded with some sort of immortal high-priest role or something i honestly don't think he thought that far ahead.
anyway though i think that's why everything he does feels so drastic and out of left field. it's cause his perception of reality is like incredibly distorted and he's been trapped in this volo-giratina-togekiss echo chamber to the point where he thinks this is a normal thing for people to want. nice going dude!
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hi!!! question - do u think Dylan is gonna surprise us and make an appearance in the teen wolf movie? it just feels insane to me that they’d make it without him??? and also dying to know your thoughts and opinions that they announced a character as “Derek’s son” ?? It’s all very wild to me and idk how to feel I need you to tell me how to feel
[I'm going to state some of my opinions because they were directly asked of me. I'm not interested in arguing with people, so if you don't agree with things that I say in this post, just keep scrolling.]
Heyy!! Hopefully my feelings on these things will help you figure out your own lmao ♥
First things first, I don't think DOB will be in the movie. As much as he has said in interviews that he loves the show, he's also expressed a lot of negatives about how it was run. I don't really think he wants to return - regardless of his excuse of liking where the show ended. He's mentioned that the show "has his heart", but I think he means that he has a nostalgic feeling about it because it was where he started as an actor, more so than his love of Teen Wolf as a series. And since he was likely being pressured to do it by fans, I'm glad that he's not forcing himself into a situation he's not excited about.
That being said, I don't think the movie would be stupid enough to pretend he doesn't exist. I'm sure there will be mentions of him - along with maybe an email, text, or phone call where the audience can't hear the other side, so they just pretend Stiles is on the phone.
Eli Hale!! Let me tell you, I am ecstatic.
Looking at the timeline and his appearance, I think the most believable mother would be Paige. He definitely looks like her and that would be a very interesting twist. Maybe a Peter situation, where Talia took memories of a baby? But I would also be very bothered, if they reused the same storyline twice in the show, so... Also, I like this idea because I've had a WIP in the works for months about teenage Paige having a baby and Sterek raising it, so this would play into my worldbuilding quite a bit haha.
The other option would be Kate, which also intrigues me. A hunter-trained werewolf, breaking free of his deranged mother's lifetime of brainwashing when he finds his father's old 'pack'? Give me that!! I would love a storyline like that and it would actually be something that would make sense for why Derek wouldn't know. He would've left to New York before Kate started showing. This could also open up the possibility for getting more information on the Argents. Maybe Eli was raised primarily by Kate's mom or some other relative, with Kate in and out of his life? I think there would be a lot of room to play around with this idea and I'm here for it. Shit, if Eli isn't Kate's, then I might need to start a new WIP.
I know people are all upset about the idea of Eli and who his mom might be, but I really don't see why. Derek is not a real person - he's a character - and it literally doesn't matter how often his past comes back to haunt him. If he's Kate's kid, then there's a lot Jeff Davis can play around with - and fanfic writers, too!
As far as I'm concerned, this movie will do three things:
revive old fandom members, along with bringing in new ones
provide and inspire new content to play around with for edits, moodboards, art, fanfic, etc.
build the Teen Wolf universe
There are no downsides to this movie. We gained a new Hale character to play with! We're getting inspiration for our content creators! We're getting to step back into Beacon Hills! And if it's horrible? Who cares?? Just pretend it didn't happen, like most of this fandom pretends seasons 4-6 didn't exist.
Why stress about a fictional movie, when you could be excited for this new Teen Wolf content?? I'm so ready for it. I'm ready to need to rewrite the whole thing and probably double my WIPs while trying to fix the dumpster fire that the movie will undoubtedly be. You bet your ass I'm getting Paramount+ as soon as the movie comes out.
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The difference between the amount of Darklina fan content (fics, art, social media engagement) vs the Malina content should be enough to tell LB that al her puritan preaching nonsense that’s totally devoid of nuance isn’t working.
The fact that there are so many fix its, so many post winter fete fics, so many “what if Alina had agency and chose to actually find out the truth instead of blindly believing Baghra’s lies,” and so many more scenarios, the fact that these exist should tell LB that maybe she didn’t tell the story she thought she did?
If most of your fandom is shipping your heroine with your supposed villain, maybe pause and see why instead of getting mad at your audience, saying ridiculous things on podcasts, and writing the fans into your book as a deranged cult?
The number of darklina fics on ao3 is like 4X more than the malina fics, and there’s a reason for it. I mean, one of the reasons is that antis would rather yell at darklinas than enjoy their meadow ship🤣🤣 but that’s not the only reason. I suspect the reason is that a lot of people just aren’t into this?
Also, it’s ridiculous for anyone to be surprised by the Darklina popularity. Like, if you’re shocked that people ship Alina with Aleksander, I just kinda assume that you’ve never been into YA or romance??? Like, when have we not shipped the kinda naive good girl with a dark side with the mysterious hot guy who helps her unlock her desires? Have you even read an airport romance novel? Literally no one wants to read about a bland af love interest. It doesn’t make for good books, and it sure as shit isn’t good on screen either. It’s boring.
It’s like people are forgetting that fantasy isn’t reality and you literally cannot punish people for thinking about stuff. This idea than liking a fantasy thing somehow reflects your morals is so fucking stupid, I want to laugh. Because really? I can’t fantasize about things I wouldn’t do in real life? I have to limit my imagination now to what is acceptable to random idiots on the internet who have no critical thinking skills or basic understanding of nuance??
This shit is how art has become increasingly meh. From literature, to film, to music, to paintings, anything. Everyone suddenly wants every piece of art of fit their super specific idea of what is “good” or “appropriate.” We used to only have to worry about religious organizations, conservatives, and oppressive governments trying to censor art, but now we have to worry about the “super woke” too, how very horse shoe of you guys btw.
Sigh, this wasn’t supposed to be a rant, and I really don’t want to dwell on it too much. But I’m going to say this, most antis I’ve come across are teenagers, which honestly is enough reason to just ignore them completely because lmao! I remember being a teenager, it was literally less than a decade ago. However, we’re increasingly giving teenagers way too much power to shape our society/culture and that’s fucking mental. People are literally scared to say things, write the stories they want to tell, make films they want, hell even make policies that make sense because they are afraid of being “called out” by 15 year olds on the internet. Wtf is this???? How are we not freaking out about this??
I’m not saying we shouldn’t listen to younger people, we should hear them. What we shouldn’t do is treat their fucking thoughts/whims as unchallengeable gospel. A lot of teenagers are intelligent thoughtful people, but they are still kids, and they fucking require guidance. I actually don’t care if this come off as condescending, I’m cool with that. What I’m not cool with is teenagers dictating what people can/can’t do/feel/think/fantasize about.
I’ve never seen a darklina fan pretend that Aleksander is a saint, we literally know he’s not and we like him anyway. Like, you literally are not owed an explanation because I like a fictional immortal shadow summoner and you don’t. No, I’m not explaining shit to you, if you’re pissed, don’t fucking read my posts then. Block me, don’t engage in darklina related conversations, literally go live your life away from me 🤣🤣🤣 But no, you antis would rather creep around our tags and preach as if that means anything. It doesn’t.
#fuck antis#I’m actually irritated#hate from antis is fuel for my darklina fire#darklina#the only gaslighting happening is the book trying to gaslight me to hate the darkling and love mal#mal is a toxic fuckboy and that’s canon
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danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!
-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...
-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way
-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)
-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....
-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)
-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:
which is hilarious.
-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports
-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.
-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.
-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)
-danny. with a SWORD.
-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?
-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)
-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder
-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.
-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???
-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.
-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3
-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)
-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here
-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.
-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)
-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...
-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.
-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.
-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.
-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.
-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.
-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun
-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)
-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect
-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls
-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*
-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(
-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes
-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD
-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.
-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳
-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.
-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)
this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes
(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)
ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)
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Chapter 283 - Thoughts
This has been probably the most dissonant chapter in the arc for me so far.
It starts out great - seeing the Mansion side students stare in horror at the destruction wondering how the pros are doing. Cut to Hawks still alive and Tokoyami holding him, while Dark Shadow saves a bunch of medics and I’m almost crying how much this little goth bird-boy has grown.
and we get flashbacks to the efforts of the pros to save them (bless you, Majestic!!!!, we don’t know you, and it felt like there was something being built there, but even if you are dead, we will stan you forever).
Also, I can’t believe that poor Gang Orca was done so dirty. At least both Sero and Satou get a rare moment of saving their friends. Well done, boys.
Gah, I’m pretty worried about Fat Gum (and a little bit Amajiki)
Naturally, the students are questioning if everything they or the heroes have done was in vain. (ominous cut to Hawks, who of course, is one of the main contributors to this raid with all his spying, but also taking out of Twice (who would have made this instant game over).
But well - as messy as thing are now, it would have been still worse, had it been a complete surprise attack at Shigaraki’s full power with the organized regiments.
While the rest of the LoV seems pretty somber, Dabi seems to revel in the destruction the same way Shigaraki does, which makes me worried about the upcoming inevitable family reunion. It seems like not much Touya is left in him, if any at all. The harm goes way beyond bringing down the heroes.
But then as we cut back to the hospital battlefield, just to hammer home how hopeless everything is - with pretty much all the pros down for the count one way or another (I think both Endeavor and Ryukyu are knocked out from Deku’s smashes - maybe? It’s not too clear?) or was useless to start with like Manual and Rock Lock. The Nomus are still chewing on Burnin’s group (Native will be eaten before we’ll ever learn what his quirk is).
Endeavor is the only one who seems to have in any way reacted to Todoroki’s dramatic entrance from last chapter (which is kind of a bummer, it was a very decent entrance), but Shouto resolutely refuses to engage in any feelsy father-son stuff even at death’s door, as he literally just tells Endeavor to chill on his way towards Shigaraki (?) Endeavor looks pissed. Why? Who knows?
Let’s cut to Bakugou. Oh sorry, the Bakugou panels are completely incomprehensible too - it feels like they were pretty much phoned in, so that we get Bakugou swearing and not doing anything at all. Bakugou who has been a good team-player and a smart contributor, showing how much he changed and grown fixing his mistakes is rewarded by being literally get left in the dust by a deranged Deku who is behaving sort of like Bakugou was at their midterm exam - trying to win it all by himself. These images make me utterly uncomfortable, so I imagine Bakugou must feel a thousand times worse.
Deku is checking on Aizawa and gets his rage counter increases. He directly contradicts Rock Lock’s advice on account of it being a totally ridiculously stupid advice. Why is even Rock Lock there? He serves zero narrative purpose other than make Deku even more pissed. Raging, snotty Deku is a good look though. (the art is great, even if the writing is lacking)
OK, so Deku’s group is closest to Shigaraki, I think I see Shouto moving towards them. Bakugou is sitting on the ground further away? Everyone seems to be waiting for Shigaraki’s next move, except Shouto who is moving closer probably to attack again (isn’t he a long-range fighter?)
Luckily for everyone, Shigaraki’s half-baked state starts to catch up with him oh so conveniently finally, and he’s literally coming apart at the seams like a ragdoll. Uhm, ok? At least his confused face is kinda hilarious.
Deku, the smart cookie he is, notices this as one finger-breaking kid to another - it’s a possible opening for the heroes, even with Aizawa down for the count.
Shigaraki’s 75% cooked status is of course the result of everyone’s contributions - from Hawks and Tsukauchi getting the intel, to the hospital raid team, especially Mirko and Present Mic, to Endeavor who has been the main damage dealer, to Crust who kept Aizawa alive, who made it possible for the heroes to push Shigaraki towards his limit...
Yet, somehow this teamwork narrative gets lost in the final pages, as Deku emerges as the Savior Octopus floating in the sky, once again unlocking an ability when he most needs it and is sufficiently angry on account of MC power-up and really really badly wanting it.
Oh yeah, Gran Torino is not really dead, because he gets to float one last time (sorry, my dark black soul cannot appreciate this level of kitsch, especially because if the writing were consistent, blood would gush out of the wounds, and his guts would float poetically in the wind).
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not salty because float activated (we knew it would) or that Deku uses it with BW to get everyone away (we knew he would), but the set-up just feels so dumb. It’s like Horikoshi was phoning it in with everyone else’s actions in his hurry to get to that panel, because he couldn’t wait to draw black whip.
Deku seems to completely disregard that there is a team around him - a team that got him this far and it makes me a very very sad bunny ahead of the two-week break.
This could be just another not-so-greatly executed misdirect and Deku will have to face some consequence for his recklessness or this could be the beginning of the end, when the wheels come off the narrative for good and we’ll learn that after all another Symbol is all the world needs and all the other heroes are completely useless and unnecessary and shouldn’t have done anything, just waited for their wonderful All Might 2.0 take care of it all with one hand, while holding up triumphantly all those other pathetic bastards with his broken other hand...
Yuck. I’m sorry but that just won’t work for me.
I hope Bakugou and Todoroki especially will be allowed to do something intelligent next chapter, because neither of them is the sitting-back type and Deku will somehow be forced to remember that he has allies who are not dangling little ornaments on his tentacles but capable heroes themselves.
BONUS:
For now, the only bright point I can see is that Horikoshi wanted Todoroki be here for the Float unlocking, which makes me think he’ll be brought in on the OFA-team. Though chances are, everyone will learn it.
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2 part commission - Harry Hook x reader - the masked princess - part 1
commission from @musicarose
=
You sat silently at an empty lunch table, watching as those at the next looked at you wearily and whispered to each other.
You sighed, leaning on your hand and picking at your food.
You were the second daughter of Aurora and Phillip, the younger sister of Audrey…the one everyone avoided because of your sister's attempted take over.
It wasn’t fair, almost everyone had forgiven her within the day she was returned to normal, and almost everyone shunned you for what SHE did.
You looked up, watching as your sister walked through the doors, laughing and smiling with Jane and Evie. You swallowed down the pit in your throat and stuffed some mac n cheese in your mouth.
It wasn’t fair.
--
You looked up from your sketchbook notebook as the teacher announced there would be new students joining the class.
“Everyone, I want you to welcome our new students.” you felt your breath stop as a tall, dark, handsome boy walked through the doors, his bright ocean blue eyes scanning the room as a girl with long teal hair entered in after him.
‘That’s uma’ you thought, remembering her from your sister's ramblings ‘so that must be…’
“Harry ‘ook” the tall boy muttered, obviously bored as the teacher made him introduce himself. ‘Harry Hook’ you finished your thought, finally tearing your eyes away from the handsome son of Hook.
“Alright, Harry you sit back there with miss (whatever aurora and Phillips last name is) and uma-“ you ignored the rest of the teacher's speech, watching from the corner of your eye as Harry made his way towards you and sat down in the desk next to you.
You didn’t bother to say hi, you knew the others would tell him to stay away from you as soon as they got a grip on him.
It didn’t stop your heart from latching onto him, even if you told it that it would never happen.
Because in the week and months following, you saw a side that you knew many others didn’t see.
He was a brother, his playfulness with the younger members of his crew, making faces at his sisters when they weren’t looking. His laughter as CJ jumped onto his back and demanded to be carried.
He was creative, humming little tunes as he worked, little doodles on the edges on his page, the spark of excitement in his bright ocean blue eyes when the teacher would assign an art or writing based assignment.
He was a strategist, joining tourney and quickly rising the ranks to the captain as he shaped up the team and destroying the other schools with quick and witty plans.
He was smart, in the sense of people, able to tell if someone was angry or sad from simply glancing at their hands. He could taunt someone into messing up, leading to many a victory in tourney and R.O.A.R. along with getting someone like chad to leave the new young isle kids alone.
He was kind, you had seen him carry small animals in his coat and hoodies, cooing at them and handling them gently. He stayed with crew members and younger members of the isle as they cried or had panic attacks.
He was brave, diving into deep-sea waters as Jane fell in. tackling a rabid animal as it tried to attack dude, standing up to a deranged villain.
You just couldn’t help but fall in love with the bright blue-eyed pirate. And it sucked, knowing he only knew you as ‘the girl who I sit next to in a couple of classes and gave me a pencil one time’
So you sat in your corner, watching as girls flirted with him, and him flirt back…including your sister.
She didn’t know you liked him but it still hurt, but you knew that if he had a choice he would choose her over you.
She was more outgoing, she was the perfect daughter, she was the oldest daughter of Aurora, she was the one in the spotlight.
Why would the handsome, brave, kind and charming Harry Hook choose the plain, closed in, and unnoticed younger sister of Audrey.
Then one day.
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You tilted your head, taking one of the free flyers in the clear hanging box next to the hanging poster, turning it over to see the back
-meet at the grand ballroom (cafeteria) the 31st at 7 pm-
That…that sounded fun, you smiled to yourself, you needed a night to just…let yourself be unknown because so many others would be as well.
But…your shoulders sagged, you didn’t have any dresses, and you were too socially awkward to go ask for one.
So as the day of the ball drew closer, you watched as the other students chatter about their outfits and masks, some considering asking their crush or s/o to the ball.
You listened to your sister wonder about asking Harry…and you sat in the background, sketching out a beautiful blue mask and dress, based on the blue version of your mother's classic dress.
A knock sounded at the window of your room, you and your sister looked to each other and you stood and carefully looked out, sighing in relief as three balls of light floated about.
You opened the window and stepped aside.
Fauna, flora, and Merryweather gently flew in, growing in size as they landed on the floor. “hello children~” fauna cheered, her and flora walking over to Audrey as Merryweather sat next to you, offering a cookie.
“We heard there's a ball coming up and we want to help you get ready!” flora cheered, clapping her hands together.
You sighed and sat back, Merryweather tilting her head at you “(y/n)? sweetheart, what's wrong?”
“I don’t think im going” you muttered, Merryweather puffed up and leaned forward.
“why not?”
“well, I don’t have a dress or mask for it, and the guy I like is probably going with Audrey, I- I really don’t see a reason to go” you looked down to your lap, playing with your fingers.
“well…that’s not- alright, ill help make you a dress and mask, and you'll go to the ball, and you'll turn everyone's head and get that boy!”
You shushed her, you didn’t want Audrey to hear “no! not so loud, besides, who would want me there?”
“us!” Merryweather stressed, “we’ll be there as chaperones, and we want you to go out for once and have fun!”
You sighed, laughing a little and nodding “alright, alright ill go!”
Merryweather smirked and gave a triumphant nod. “good, now show me what your thinking of wearing”
As you showed her your sketch, Merryweather's face brightened “oh my, (y/n) that is a gorgeous dress! And that mask-ohhhh that boy will go gaga over you”
You chucked, shaking your head. “alright merry”
As Audrey left with flora and fauna, merry magicked up some blue ombre fabric, gently floating the sketch page in front of her and muttering some random words and measurements.
“you'll look amazing trust me love” you sighed, letting Merryweather do her work.
“and ill enchant it so it won't fit anyone else but you since I know how your sister is” you burst out laughing recalling all the times she borrowed your clothes and never returned them.
“thanks” you settled down in the windowsill chair and pulled your sketchbook to you, sketching down a particular boy and girl dancing away.
===
You finished the wing on your liner, breathing deeply and edging from your mirror, all that was left was to do your hair and get dressed, and then it would be time to go to the ball.
“alright (y/n) you got this, it's just a ball, everyone will be wearing masks, no one will know it's you”
Audrey was already at the “ballroom” being apart of the planning committee. “and maybe- maybe harry will notice you? Yeah right”
You snorted, backing away from the mirror and looking to your bed, smiling softly at the ombre blue ball gown, the light blue mask resting next to it.
“Alright, let's do this!”
---
Harry sighed, he was bored, Audrey wouldn’t shut up and leave him alone, he wished he hadn’t been convinced to come along by evie.
He reached up, fixing the sliding mask on his nose and stood from leaning against the wall, ignoring Audrey as she asked him what he was doing.
He walked to the punch line, groaning loudly as uma stepped next to him, her teal sea-themed mask staring back at him. “your bored aren’t you?” she chuckled.
“there's no one interestin’” he snorted. Looking around the room….wait who- “uma whos tha’?” harry whispered, pointing over to the main doors.
Uma turned, her brows raising as she spotted who harry was talking about.
The masked girl wore an off-shoulder blue ombre ball gown with glitter on the end of the skirt, an elegant blue mask encrusted with diamonds placed delicately on her face.
Her (h/c) hair (curled, straightened, braided) and framing her face perfectly.
Smokey eyes hiding behind the mask, (lip type) lips painted with a tint of (reddish/peach/whatever color u want)
“Wow, she's pretty” she whistled, smirking as harry broke away from her and walked directly to the girl.
“uh oh” she chuckled “I feel like im in one of those classic fairy tales now”
“why?” Gil came up behind her, mask on top of his head, and eating honey beignets.
“you know it, the young man, bored at the ball, unamused by anyone's advances, suddenly he stops! For there she stands, the girl of his dreams!” gil looked up, seeing Harry's red-suited form walking up to the girl in blue.
“who she is or where she came from he does not know, nor does he care” uma smirked watching as harry gently grabbed her hand, the girl whipping around surprised, her ears becoming darker.
“for his heart tell him, that here, here is the maiden destined to be his~” Harry pressed his lips to her hand, smiling at her.
Uma and Gil looked to each other and chuckled “it seems we may have an addition to the crew?”
“if she unmasks herself at the end of the night like everyone else” uma thought aloud. Gentle music began to play, harry bowed and held his hand out to the girl, inviting her to dance.
She took his hand and he led her to the main dance floor, joining the others.
“uma” Gil announced in a posh voice “may I have this dance milady~”
Uma let out a cackle “you may~”
---
You knew Harry was the one who had walked up to you, kissed your hand, asked you to dance, and continued to spend the night with you.
And you didn’t care, you knew he didn’t know who you were, and would forget about you the next day. But you didn’t care, you would follow Merryweather's wish for you to simply have fun.
It had been a wonderful couple of hours, you had met uma and gil for the first time, and you loved them (you wished you were brave enough to meet them without the mask) you met his sisters CJ and Harriet.
And now you and harry sat just outside the ballroom on the balcony simply talking and laughing.
Harry tilted his head at you, a bright smile on his face “so lass, how come I haven’t seen yeh around the school, Im sure I would have noticed a bonnie lass like yeh around.”
You gave a nervous giggle and shrugged “im not that noticeable, trust me”
You jumped as the bell sounded, looking inside you saw the rest of the school standing in front of the stage where the band was, seeing fairy godmother announce the removal of the masks.
“oh, I have- I have to go!” you stood, desperate to leave when Harry grabbed your wrist, you whipped back around, chest hurting as you looked into Harry's confused eyes.
“But why? Everyones about ta remove their masks, I don’t even know yer name?” you shook free, holding your hand close to your chest.
“im-im sorry”
“10!”
“please at least tell me yer name” harry pleaded, you bit your lip, you didn’t want to tell him your name, you knew as soon as you did he would know and would avoid you like all the others.
“rose…my name is rose” really (y/n)? your mother's old name?
“rose…ill find yeh” you looked into his bright ocean blue eyes one last time and bolted, not bearing to look as the crowd said the final number and removed their masks.
…Harry looked after you, slowly removing his mask.
“ill find yeh” he muttered, he promised to himself, he would find his masked princess.
-----
You slammed your dorm room closed, doing your best to not hyperventilate. “okay…okay, breathe (y/n) breathe! He doesn’t know it was you, he won't find out!”
You stopped “oh but…” a smile bloomed on your face “even if he does….ill never regret this night”
You leaned off the door, slowly dancing as you made your way across the room.
“so this is what mom felt when she met dad” you sighed, removing your mask and gloves, placing them into a box to shove under your bed.
You paused, thumb brushing against the nose of the mask “maybe ill get my prince?”
--end of part 1 --
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SO I’M A TERRIBLE PERSON...
Hahaha! Guess who dropped off the face of the earth AGAIN? This guy! Well, anyways: Here is my contribution to the 2020 ROTBTD gift exchange! I swore I wouldn’t get on tumblr again until it was finished, but then life went insane.
@siodymph I am so sorry that it’s taken so long, and that this is so short, but I really hope you like it! Your very, VERY late Secret Santa!
Seashells
Rapunzel bit her bottom lip, squinting at her latest painting. It wasn't that she hated it or anything, but it just seemed off. No matter how hard she tried there was just that little nagging thought in the back of her mind slowly driving her insane the longer she looked at it.
"What do you think?" She asked without looking at the others who were standing there with her, staring at the painting with tilted heads.
"Rapunzel... It's white." Jack said.
"But it's not the Right white!" Rapunzel threw her arms up in the air, turning away from the painting so she could pace across her room. "I promised Eugene's dad that I would make the perfect flag for the Moon Kingdom in honor of their reconstruction and the treaty with Corona, but it won't be perfect if I can't even use the right colors!"
"What's the difference? It's white!" Merida questioned, looking between Rapunzel and the painted canvas.
"No! This is cotton white! I need pearl white! The flowers just don't look right without it!" Rapunzel huffed, looking through all of her paints and art supplies to see if by some miracle she still had some hidden somewhere. "Moon Flowers are the designated symbol of the Moon Kingdom, and if this flag is going to fly above their castle for the next few centuries, the least I can do is make it the right shade of white! But of course I don't have anymore and I've already been to three different shops in the city; No one has it!"
"Well, you know how to make all your paints, don't you? Why don't we just get the ingredients and you can make it yourself." Hiccup suggested, and Rapunzel sighed.
"It's not that simple! This paint is made from special seashells found on a specific beach three days away from here. Gothel only ever got them for me once! Okay, well, twice! But the second time is when I asked her to go get them so I could leave the tower and I never actually got the shells so I never got to make the paint! Not to mention to boil it down and make the paint would take at least a full day . Already that's a whole week and we have to leave for the Moon Kingdom in five days!" Rapunzel stressed, part of her brain told her that if she kept biting her lip like that she was going to split it.
"That's an easy fix! With Toothless it should only take a day to get there. We'll spend the night and be back with plenty of time for you to make the paints." Hiccup said, looked over at Toothless who looked up from where he was napping at the foot of Rapunzel's bed upon hearing his name.
"Sweet! Flying Trip!" Jack pumped his fist into the air.
"It has been a while since we went adventuring." Merida grinned.
"I don't know," Rapunzel hesitated. "Normally when we try to do something like this, something happens and then we end up in some kind of trouble. Remember last time? When Hiccup had a cold?"
"It was not my fault!" Merida snapped to attention, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Never again." Jack muttered, shivering.
"I don't remember much from that one, but even if it does take a little longer than it's supposed to, Toothless and I can fly you to the Moon Kingdom to make up for time. Just tell your dad it's super important, I'm sure he'll understand." Hiccup shrugged.
"Or, don't tell him anything and if he comes looking, we stall for as long as we need." Jack offered, leaning against his staff with a playful smirk.
They all looked at each other for a few minutes, considering their options...
~*~*~
"WHOOHOO!" Rapunzel shouted, her hands up in the air as Toothless and Hiccup angled along an air-current, gliding across the sky in a smooth swoop.
Jack popped up next to them, floating along on his staff with his arms behind his head as her reclined backwards. Merida rode on the back of Toothless's saddle, reading the map as best she could while it flapped in the wind.
"We're almost there now!" Merida announced, glancing down below at landmarks and pathways. "There's a town just a few miles from the beach coming up. If we're lucky, they might already have the paint made there."
"We should take a rest. Toothless isn't used to carrying so many people, and it's usually better to go in on foot then to land a dragon in the middle of town." Hiccup reminded them with a wry smile, peering over the Night Fury's shoulder to look for a good landing place.
"Oh, so we're not going to strike fear into the hearts of innocent villagers today. Good to know." Jack chuckled, flipping around and grabbing his staff in one hand to look down at the earth.
"We've never tried to scare people, Jack!" Rapunzel argued.
"Speak for yourself!" He quipped and Hiccup snorted, trying to hold in a laugh. Toothless didn't bother hiding his dragon-chuckle.
"Anyways," Merida cut in, sticking her tongue out at Jack, who was rolling his eyes at her. "There's a forest down there. Plenty of space for Toothless while we go into town!"
"Sounds like a plan. Let's go, bud!" Hiccup grinned patting Toothless's shoulder.
The two moved in sync as they tilted to one side and began their descent towards the earth. Air rushed up around them, and Rapunzel's heart fluttered in her chest at the exhilaration from it all.
Within the hour, Toothless was settled by a nice rock formation that offered him a decent enough hiding place and a small clearing to stretch his limbs while the Four made their way towards the town. The town had a port, so there was more activity than in most with ships sailing in and out, goods coming and going, people traveling. Though it was small and less visited than the larger ports like Corona itself, the town was still thriving and teeming with excitement.
The crossroads before the town had a tall picket with road signs nailed into it. One way led into the town, another path led to the beach, and a third path led out to the pasture land where sheep and cattle with grazing. Right below the picket was a fairly new-looking sign in red paint: Unauthorized Collecting of Seashells is strictly Prohibited! Violators will be Arrested!
"Now what's that about?" Merida demanded, her fists on her hips.
"Looks like we need to come back tonight with Hiccup in a wig." Jack said.
"I am not going to be the distraction! You like being the center of attention so much, you go and do it!" Hiccup grumbled.
"Okay, fine! How about plan B?" Jack asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Plan B only works if we get caught! The whole point of this is to not get caught!" Hiccup exclaimed.
"We are not breaking the law!" Rapunzel told them. "I'm sure it's just regulation to keep people from over-harvesting the seashells. Let's go into town and see if we can find a vendor who knows more."
"Okay, but remember we can always just tell Bunny that some guy in town said the Easter Bunny's a total wuss, and that'll be plenty of distraction!" Jack grinned.
"This is why the Yeti's don't let you go anywhere in the Pole unsupervised." Merida told him as they walked towards the town.
The fast-paced bustle of the town was even more intense when one was right in the middle of it, but Rapunzel had gotten used to crowded environments from living in Corona and exploring the city, and also with her traveling with her friends. Haggling though, was a skill that she just couldn't seem to get the hang of, so when they reached the market and began looking at the different vendors and shops, Rapunzel and Jack took a step back and followed after Merida and Hiccup.
Merida had the attitude of a pauper and, much to her mother's chagrin, had spent a good portion of her childhood haggling with townspeople and sailors whether on her own or alongside her father. Hiccup, by comparison, was simply a Viking. Trading and Haggling was one of many occupational necessities and also something he was especially trained in as future Chief.
Ambling up to the different booths and extracting goods for reasonable prices, or even just information with little trouble, was something the pair had down pat. So it wasn't surprising when fifteen minutes after entering the market district, Merida returned to the group with information on where to find the Seashell vendor.
"Guy was pretty tight-lipped about it, and he said the old hag's a bit crazy, but I told him we've dealt with worse. Anyways, he said she'll be down the road, 'round the corner from the tavern." Merida explained.
"Great! Let's go see her, then!" Jack jumped up from the fountain ledge he and Rapunzel had been seated on, pulling Rapunzel to her feet beside him.
Again the Four were off to their next destination, finding themselves walking deeper into the town. The closer they got to the large storehouses by the docks, the more dreary things became. No one was about on the street, and those who were looked on with watchful, skittish eyes. Rats ran about underfoot and the seagulls perched on lamp posts looked slightly deranged.
"Are we sure this is the place?" Hiccup asked, his eyes moving over to the tavern as a man stumbled out and barfed into the gutter.
"That's what the shop handler said, but it wouldn't be a surprise if he'd lied. He was a bit seedy looking." Merida shrugged.
"Merida! I'm sure he was a very nice man! We haven't even seen the inside yet! I'm sure as soon as we cross through that door, we'll see the Seashell vendor!" Rapunzel smiled confidently, turning towards the door and tapping out a cheery tune with her fist.
The door swung open very slowly with a low creak and they all tilted their heads to see inside the crack the door caused. It was dark inside.
"Well, that's creepy." Hiccup muttered.
"Come on, guys! It's not that bad..." Rapunzel tried, tiptoing closer as she gently poked the door open with her index finger. The door gave a louder creak as it swung open further, and Rapunzel's voice wavered a bit at the sight of more dark shadows. She gave a nervous chuckle. "Okay... Well, I'm sure it'll look better from the inside."
"I'd rather not get jumped in a dark room in the back of an alley today, thank you." Hiccup said, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture.
"I might have to agree with Hicc on this one." Jack glanced between Rapunzel and Merida, looking rather hesitant.
"Oh, honestly!" Merida huffed, stomping passed them and up to the door. "Here, I've got a flare in my bag."
"Why do you have a flare?" Jack wanted to know.
"In case I have to see inside creepy dark rooms, or get lost in the woods, or want to have a party with explosives." Merida said with a smile. "But also my brothers bought some off of a foreign trader last week. I promised not to tell mom as long as they gave me a couple."
"I love your brothers!" Jack grinned.
Merida pulled out the flare and struck it against the stone wall of the building. A bright flame sparked to life and Merida held it up as she and Rapunzel stepped further into the room together. The boys quickly followed in behind, and the Four shuffled forward quietly and slowly. The flare threw strange, flickering shadows across the room, and the four friends pressed closer together as they stared at all of the figures of fanged and clawed creatures.
"Are these... Bears?!" Merida exclaimed.
"What are they made of?" Hiccup asked, squinting at the closest figurine.
There were sculptures, cutouts, carved plank art, toys, moving trinkets, clocks, plant holders, and so much more. Everything had Bears. Small bears, big bears, slim bears, big round bears. There were so many bears made out of little white...
"These are shells." Jack said.
"And this whole thing seems very famil- AHH!" Merida screamed jumping back and slamming into the other three. They all stumbled, and Rapunzel fell against a shelf, rattling everything on it, but the tall sculpture on the very top tipped over and fell to the floor, shattering with a loud clattering of a hundred different shells.
"What is going on in here?!" A new voice shouted. There were two claps, and suddenly the blinds were thrown on the curtains and several candles were lit, filling the whole room into light.
The Four looked up from where they were piled on the ground, finding themselves in the middle of a shop filled to the brim with bear-themed shell-crafts. At the very center of it all, stood a woman that had Merida's jaw dropping open.
"You!" Merida shouted, throwing a finger towards the old woman standing before her.
"Oh! Hello there, dearie! So good to see you again! I hear that spell worked out pretty well for you, hmmm?" The old Bear Witch beamed at her, with her wide eyes that blinked slightly out of sync, the same ragged-looking crow looming on her shoulder.
"YOU?!" All four of the young adventurers shouted, recognizing the old witch almost immediately from their first major calamity of a quest in Scotland.
"What are You doing here?!" Merida demanded, stomping to her feet with her arms stuck straight by her sides and her hands clenched into fists.
"Oh, oh, oh! Well, Dearie, after you bought all of my carvings, I had to set up shop elsewhere! Getting wood out in these parts isn't so easy, though. But they've got plenty of these nifty little shells laying around!" She cackled, gesturing to all her art pieces. "Course I had a bit of trouble getting around those pesky bandits who decided they owned the beach! A few cakes seemed to do the trick just fine!"
She snapped her fingers and several larger pieces flew to the sides, revealing a cage with two bears inside wearing scrappy-looking vests and hats. One of them had a gold tooth. Merida stared at them before looking back at her friends, but they seemed as speechless as her.
"Well, anyways, what can I do you for? A paper weight? A planter box? Oh! How about this lovely little wall piece I finished just the other day!" She beamed, holding up a rather tacky sea-shell image of two bears reaching for one another.
"Oh, hehehe, we, um," Rapunzel coughed a little to clear her throat and then twirled her fingers around each other as she continued. "We just came here to collect some loose shells to make some paint. We thought maybe we would have to speak with the beach owners, but I guess that's not too much of an issue now."
"Oh, not at all dearie! There's a pile in the back! Help yourself! I need to get this cage ready! I've got a circus leader coming to pick these boys up in just a few hours!" The old witch grinned and then let out a shrieking cackle.
She turned and hobbled towards the back of the shop as Merida took a large, decisive step backwards to rejoin her friends.
"Should we do something?" She whispered to them.
"I really don't want to get turned into bears." Hiccup replied.
"But it can't be right to just leave those guys as bears... Is it?" Merida nodded at the two bears that... well, they didn't look unhappy with their forms. One was napping, and the other was licking himself.
"I mean, they're bandits. Let's be honest. If we'd gotten here first, we would've argued over how it's not right for them to claim ownership of the beach, they would've disagreed, then we would've fought them, eventually win and turn them over to the police. They'd spent the better part of the rest of their lives in jail. At least like this they can spend their time in the circus. That sounds pretty fun, right?" Jack offered, his tone wavering back and forth as he tried to make it sound less terrible.
"Jack, that's terrible!" Rapunzel said.
"What? I'm just saying; she gets to enjoy her creepy witch powers, they don't go to jail, we don't get tied up in something that will lead to Another lecture from your parents and North and Eugene. This seems like a win-win situation all around." Jack tried to be reasonable.
"He does have a point! I mean, we generally do good things, but that doesn't mean our moral codes have to be perfect." Hiccup remarked, and Jack nudged Hiccup's arm with a grin.
"That's not funny!" Rapunzel retorted.
"It's a little funny. But you two have definitely spent way too much time with Snotlout and the twins." Merida amended. Rapunzel snorted and turned towards the witch, much to her friends' horror.
"Um, excuse me? Miss... Miss Witch-Carver?" Rapunzel said as politely as possible.
"Yes, dearie? Find something you like?" The witch turned, grinning enthusiastically at the thought a possible sale.
"Ahem, not exactly... I was just wondering; those two aren't going to be like that Forever... Are they?" Rapunzel cringed at the way her voice squeaked even in her own ears, and the witch raised one large eyebrow at her before cackling and waving her off.
"Oh, no! Of course not! This spell is only temporary! The circus leader owes me a pretty penny for a marvelous piece I gave to him two weeks ago. He promised to send the payment, but never did. I'm going to change these two back into blundering buffoons right before show time! That'll show that slimy circus man!" The witch grinned, and Rapunzel's arms hung at her sides. She had no idea how to respond to the old woman.
"So, what I'm hearing is, you already caught the bad guys trying to own the beach and we can go collect our own shells without the risk of becoming bears or being subject to strange witchy-revenge later down the line." Jack stated, looking back at Hiccup and Merida, who both nodded frantically.
"Aren't you a bit worried about what all of them will do after you cause such a big fiasco?" Rapunzel wondered.
"I'm a witch, dearie, not one of them is going to come around here again if they know what's good for them!" She said, whacking the cage bars with a broom to emphasize her point.
Rapunzel opened her mouth to continue, but Merida grabbed her arm and started pulling her out of the small shop as the bears growled and roared while the Witch shouted back at them angrily. Jack held the door open, and Hiccup gave a small wave.
"We'll just be going now. Thanks for all your help." He forced out a grin, but there was a grimace in his tone, and then the four quickly filed out of the shop onto the front porch, letting the door slam shut behind them.
They stood side by side there for a few moments, processing, until Jack finally broke the silence.
"Pretend that never happened?" He suggested.
"Agreed." The others immediately nodded and they hurried back up the street they had come from.
Collecting the shells from the beach and returning to a napping Toothless was a quick and easy affair. They arrived back at the castle with plenty of time for Rapunzel to make her paint and finish the flag for the Moon Kingdom, and she even convinced Eugene to talk his father into extending her invitation to include Jack, Merida, Hiccup, and Toothless. Though, that was only under the agreement that they remain with the group at all times and agree to have Cass and Varian watching them the whole time.
Rapunzel knew it was a bit of a stretch to promise that nothing happen, so she simply agreed that they wouldn't try to cause, or go looking for, any kind of trouble. Jack, Merida, and Hiccup had all agreed with varying degrees of less-than-enthusiastic, but were happy to be attending.
Later that week, when the festivities were coming to an end and Rapunzel had finally found a quiet moment alone with Eugene, he asked about what they'd gotten up to while he was away helping his father.
"I mean, knowing the four of you, I probably shouldn't be asking, but also I'm concerned because I wasn't there and Cass and Varian haven't taken a single one of my warnings seriously because they haven't Seen the sort of stuff you four get into!" Eugene was rambling a bit, and Rapunzel chuckled nervously as she rubbed her arm.
"Well... No one got arrested this time." Rapunzel offered.
"What kind of a response is that?!" Eugene blurted out, fear washing over his face.
"I mean, we may have come across a gang war between a witch and some bandits who tried taking over a small beach town and a circus leader, but we all agreed to walk away before things got weirder!" Rapunzel explained. "I think it was mostly because Hiccup and Jack didn't want to get turned into bears, and you know Merida's had her fair share of bear stories."
"Most people don't have Bear Stories." Eugene informed her with a rather dry look.
"I like to think that we're special." Rapunzel smiled, and Eugene sighed rubbing a hand down his face.
"You most definitely are." Eugene chuckled, smiling back at her. "And I'm going to go with my first instinct of 'I don't want to know'."
"That's probably for the best," Rapunzel said. "It wasn't the most eventful trip we've had anyways."
"Oh, yeah, sounds like it." Eugene agreed easily, and Rapunzel made a face at him for the sarcasm. They both laughed, but were cut off by a loud crashing noise from another room.
"IT WASN'T ME!" Jack's shout came after a few seconds of silence and Eugene sighed heavily, trudging off to find the others with Rapunzel close on his heels.
#rotbtd#the big four#mini adventure#rapunzel#jack frost#merida#hiccup#toothless#seashells#not a beach espisode#it's kinda random#humor#oneshot#writing#I cannot apologize enough
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A Pill In Time - Giftbox Studios
Summary: An alternate universe where ‘A Hat In Time’ [by Gears For Breakfast] is set in a psychic ward, and anyone non-human in the game are human now.
Notes: The writer has done research of the mental disorders yet has trouble understanding and memorizing them, please don’t harass or insult them as they have tried to be empathetic and avoid spreading misinformation.Perspective of the main character changes to the next character to show what the main character is really doing.
TW: Mental disorders [Autism/Autism Spectrum, PTSD, OCD, Anxiety, Schizophrenia, etc.], the perspective of a child can be dark too, self-loathing, mentions of physical abuse [not kids fighting each other, we were kids who fought our own siblings before, unless it was physical abuse on your perspective…nevermind…], mild swearing, might be boring depending on how I write this story, some important characters from in-game are OOC.
Come at me, @doodledrawsthings!!!
JK, Love your work, you’re the reason I made this fanfic!
The art’s done by me! ^^
Chapter 3: The High-Risk Floor
I remained patient in the elevator as it took me to the final floor, the doors opened to the perfect horror movie setting: a long corridor with doors, dimmed lights with a few of them flickering because of the stormy weather outside the hospital, add lightning and thunder into the setting; I didn’t notice my legs shaking but I woman-ed up and marched forward into the almost dark corridors. I scanned each passing door as I strolled, keeping a close eye on anything peculiar, just as I reached to the second last door, I found my no.1 favorite toy: My Music-Hat, a music box in the shape of a purple hat, with the yellow band having a small turnkey!
But when I finally got my hands on it, I heard a loud banging from the door in front of me, I froze in my tracks and watched the formally locked door to break at any moment, I take a few steps backwards with my toy close to my chest, the shaking came back and I was truly scared. Suddenly, a velociraptor screech boomed across the floor, followed by the door breaking open loudly that it could’ve flew off from the hinges, behind the door was a long haired lady, because of the dark, her hair color was not clear, but I definitely saw her cold red eyes glare at me when she turned her head, like she’s some kind of beast in a fairy tale.
I trapped my gasp before it could escape from my mouth and bolted to the opposite direction, in hopes of reaching the elevator before that…thing can catch me. She screamed louder and ran faster than any other lady her age, whatever her age was. Her screeches and my screams deafened my ears. I clutched my toy and bagpack tight, everything flashed around me and then I tripped on my knee when I was so close to the elevator, I hissed in pain and looked back at the lady. She was getting closer and my heart raced in panic, this is too much!!!
I have never screamed so loud in my life, nor cried so hard that I failed to notice what was going on in my surroundings, time slowed down as the lady got closer and I curled myself into a ball and cried like a baby.
A few minutes earlier
The sound of thunder woke me up. I slowly opened my eyes to see rain droplets hitting the window and a calm sigh was my only reply as I got up, stretched my back with a moan and rubbed my eyes awake. I brushed off my long brown hair away from my face, I could’ve got a haircut but…no. No need for that, I stood up and felt the chill in my room, or cell. I head to my small cupboard and picked up my favorite sweater- a deep plum colored wool- and wore it above my white cotton t-shirt. I yawned while fixing my sweater sleeves and made sure that the sweater didn’t show my skinny frame when suddenly, two loud shrieks were heard from outside my room. I jumped and my heart started to race uncontrollably, I didn’t have time to calm down. I recognized one of the shrieks, but the other sounded… younger and shrill. I reached for the door handle- I’ve never opened it myself, unless Dr. Timothy tells me to, yet I knew that something was wrong and I have to see what had happened.
I opened the door enough to peep through. I heard two set of footsteps rushing to the direction of the elevator, I looked to the other side and saw a small girl wearing a purple-yellow hoodie and carrying some kind of gadget and a bagpack, probably 8 or 9 years old, with tears streaming down her terror-filled eyes and I can see why she was running to the elevator. HER. I felt my heart stop when the little girl tripped and fell to the ground, making her scream more loud, God knows what she’ll do to that girl, I ignored my mind that was screaming to hide or my deafening heartbeats as I dashed and grabbed the girl. It was like as if the time froze when I turned to face those red soul-piercing eyes…again, I hoped that hag didn’t recognize me as I ran back to my room and shut the door, clutching the small girl tight. She definitely didn’t like what I did as she started to bang on my door. My heartbeats got louder and faster which made my breath short and fast. I hyperventilated and begged for her to leave me…and the girl alone. The chill became worse as fear overpowered me and made me shiver with the girl, who was curled up in my lap and clutching my waist tight.
The security and staff finally arrived and took her away to be pacified. As silence returned aside from the occasional thunder, I didn’t stop shaking but it lessened. I looked up at the door which thankfully didn’t fly off its hinges and then looked down at the girl…Poor thing was still shivering and weeping as she buried her face on my sweater. I was about to pat her back when I noticed her bagpack which looked like a big blue marshmallow if it wasn’t for her badges on it, one of which had the infinity symbol in rainbow colo- Oh… I stared down at the girl for a while, thinking of ways to calm her down when I noticed that she dropped her gadget on the thankfully carpeted floor. I picked it up and observed it, and twisted the turnkey more than thrice. What ensued was an odd yet peaceful moment…
The top-hat shaped gadget produced a music-box sound, the top part opened like a flower blooming in spring time and small dots of light reflected from the top created a kaleidoscope effect that covered my sweater and the wall in front of me with more than dozens of stars in a galaxy, changing colors from white, purple, blue, yellow, green and back to white. This isn’t an ordinary toy, isn’t it…? I didn’t notice that my heartbeats had calmed down as the girl’s head peeped up to look at the toy and the small stars. She uncurled and leaned on my sweater as she stared blankly at them, eyes red and puffy from the tears. I listened to the music and recognized the song…It was a lullaby from a movie I watched a long time ago before being in this cell. I sighed and sang with it, my voice being a bit rusty and off-key as I began to sing, but it went smoothly along with the notes. I gently rocked the girl with my body as I continue to sing and wiped off her tears instinctively. I watched her eyes slowly close as she drifted into a deep sleep and her calm breaths indicated that she’ll be alright. I kept singing just in case till the song finished and picked her up and put her on my bed, covering her with a weighted blanket from her bagpack and tucked her in, she smiles calmly, feeling safe and secured. I can only smile as I watched her sleep before I quietly walked to my desk drawer to retrieve some emergency anti-depressants. As much as the moment calmed me down, my heart still panicked after dealing with the b!@#$ that had ruined my life…
Hana’s P. O. V.
I opened my eyes slowly and got up, stretched my back and looked around the place. I was sleeping on a bed in a small room, my blanket and toy beside me and my bagpack below the bed. I looked up and saw a man sleeping on a rolling chair, a big book covers his face and muffled his snores. I didn’t know what had happened but I do know that I’m not supposed to be here. So as quietly as I can, I stuffed both my blanket and toy back into the bagpack and crept towards the door, my tiny hand almost reaching for the handle…
“No ‘thank you’? That’s kind of rude if you ask me, kid…”
I froze, how did he know I was about to leave…? I turned slowly, just to see one golden eye peeking out of the book, looking directly at me. I was flustered and scared, what’s with this guy…?? He sat up straight and crossed his arms, “Now, would you kindly explain to me why a little girl like you was waltzing around in a psych ward…? And in the ‘high-risk’ floor where the deranged are kept against their will for society’s sake?” He asked me like I should know the answer to the last question, and I just remained silent. He’s a stranger, and Grandpa taught me to never to talk to one…But I don’t remember what had happened before I arrived here. “Well?” He spoke again, patiently waiting for an answer, I looked at my shoes, “What happened…?”I shyly asked.
“I don’t know, you tell me? You came to this floor.” He replied sarcastically, I looked at him a bit annoyed. “I was looking for my toys…” I mumbled, but he heard it as he let out a short deep chuckle. “Your toys? What kind of kid carries twenty-eight toys in her marshmallow bag?” He replied smartly, as a cat-like smirk crept through his lips. I pouted and blushed with annoyance. “An Autistic one, that’s who!!” I yelled and his smirk disappeared…Too far, I guess…I looked away from him and stood there in silence, he did the same, scratching his head that has long brown hair that reached below his back…He kinda looks like a girl…He cleared his throat, “I found you running away from…Vanessa. You were experiencing sensory overload, so I used that Top-Hat toy you were carrying around…” he said in an awkward yet polite tone, still looking away. I tilted my head, “Who is Vanessa…?” I asked, was it that lady’s name?? He frowned more and scrunched his face, he seemed to not want to answer that question…Did she chase him down and make him scream too…? I thought of the scenario, it would’ve been funny if it didn’t happen to me, so…I reached to my bagpack to retrieve my top-hat toy. “…I am looking for the rest of my toys, they don’t seem important but to me they are, and many others tried to take them away…This toy…was made by my dad…before he and mom left me with Grandpa…”
Robin’s P. O. V.
When she mentioned her parents, I can tell that she blames herself or her disorder…either way, I know how she felt as I used to blame my disorder whenever she would get mad at me. I looked at the toy, it looked like no other child toy I can think of, so maybe her dad did make it himself and it showed how skillful he was…But it doesn’t explain how and why the kid was basically an orphan, aside from her Grandfather as her guardian… ”So…How many toys do you think are left…?” I see her blink after being lost in her thoughts, “Hm? Oh! I think twelve of them.” Her answer surprised me and my tone showed, “Oh? Did you search everywhere for them? That’s really impressive, kiddo!” I gave a calm smile at her and chuckled when she blushed but she smiled back a bit. I saw the confidence coming back to her and she tied her boots properly before she turned to the door.
Yet she paused…I don’t have to guess, “Want me to help?” She turned and had an embarrassed frown, she nodded her head. “But you don’t have to…um…” I realized that I forgot to tell my name, “I am Robin, I did help you escape from a lunatic.” I introduce myself and offer my help, she looked around for a while, humming to herself as she thinks, “Okay, but only for being by my side in this floor and till I reach to the ground level.” I looked at her and smiled, “You’re quite the contractor…aren’t you, kid? ~”, admittedly, she does have a good deal, yet I just fear for her coming back… “Alright, it’s a deal!” I clapped my hands once and got up, which startled the kid as she stepped back, she never saw a tall person before? I cracked my back and ruffled my hair more to hide my eyes, she was still looking at me in awe and she walked closer to me. I looked at her curiously, what’s in her head now?
“C-Can I…Um…?” She nervously asked, while hesitantly reaching a hand for my hair, I thought for a minute and nod, she carefully grabbed a tuft and used her thumb to stroke it, her sky-blue eyes gleamed in amazement, finding some unseen wonder in my mane. “Are you a boy?” she asked with uncertainty and such innocence, I did a double take and laughed heartily at her question. It has been a while since I laughed like that and this kid had just made my day. I controlled my laughter and wiped off an imaginary tear from my non-hidden eye, “Now is not the time to debate whether my long hair makes me look like a girl, kid! We have an objective to accomplish!!” I watched her face change from embarrassment to realization as she secures the bands of her bagpack. Then I realized that I agreed to leave my room…for a kid I barely knew…My heart started to beat faster again and I stared blankly at the door. I breathe quietly yet quickly as the thoughts of the unexpected events that are yet to happen raced in my mind, then a small hand held mine and I looked at the small girl, “Ready to go, Mr. Robin?” She asked with an innocent smile, oblivious about how I am feeling. I inhaled and exhaled heavily, gave a fake smile and held her hand. I reached for the door, fingers on the handle, ‘Try to not think of dying of a heart attack on the spot, alright?’ I thought to myself and opened the door. I looked around to see if the coast was clear, and stepped out of my room in my socks as I lead the girl to the corridors of the floor. “What’s your name, kid?” I asked, I don’t mind calling her “kid” or “kiddo”, but that would be rude to not call her by name, she smiled and said that her name is Hana…That’s a really nice name.
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End of the Dadtcher chapter of ‘A Pill In Time’. This is a testing chapter to see if I can continue on writing this fanfiction. I hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed typing it; if you have any thoughts or suggestions, please let me know as I would want to make this chapter friendly and well-researched with no misinformation. Terms and Conditions apply.
#A Hat In Time#ahit#ahit au#ahit snatcher#ahit hat kid#ahit fanfic#ahit fanart#i am trying to learn#and not spread misinformation#mental ward au#mental ward
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Casual moths - chapter six
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A/N: Would you look at, I remembered I hae other WIPs that don’t feature my boy Billy. If anyone is still reading this story, sorry it took me over 6 months to update. I just wasn’t too inspired. I hope this part is enjoyable. Let me know what you think :)
Find the other parts on my masterlist here.
If you liked this part and wanna help me out, please consider a reblog. Thank you.
There’s implied smut in this. It’s there but it’s not too graphic. Please do not interact if you’re under 18 though. Thanks.
Chapter six - broken windows & burgers
A thick, heavy heat meets Angel as he steps outside of the clubhouse and into the Santo Padre morning. It’s a sticky kind of heat and it’s not even 10, he can only imagine how exhausting work is gonna be today as it will only get hotter as the day progresses.
There’s a sheet of cling foil wrapped around his right arm where fresh lines of ink make up a new piece of art on his skin. It’s more dainty than any of the other tattoos he has. He thinks it might be one of his favorites.
Something about Callie, he has realised a while ago, brings out a side of him he doesn’t know. One he never truly considered was even there. A softer side, a more vulnerable side. A side that finds bravery in softness. Power in vulnerability.
The buzzing of his phone shakes him out of his daydream and pulls him back into reality. He can’t help the smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he reads the name illuminated on the screen. Is this that feeling all the movies and songs always talk about ? The one that never really made it through the walls he worked so hard to build up around him ? Is this it ?
Because if it is, he decides, it’s not so bad.
“ Good morning, mi estrella. How are you doin’ ? “
There’s nothing for a second. No answer. No noise. Nothing. Just quiet. And it’s not a good one. He can tell. He can tell immediately. Like some kind of fucking sixth sense or something.
Then she speaks up. And it only gets worse from there.
“ Angel “ she sniffs down the phone. Her voice is watery, coarse, rough. She’s been crying. Not crying — sobbing.
“ Angel can you come to the shop please ? “
“ Are you okay ? “ It’s all that matters to him in that moment. To know she’s okay. It’s like his own well being depends on hers. How, he wonders, can he ever be okay if she isn’t.
That dependence is quite scary in itself, but he will deal with that later. When he’s alone in his bed and the dark allows him to drown in his fears.
“ I — they trashed my shop “
“ I’ll deal with it, baby. But are you okay ? “
“ Yeah. “ It’s not convincing but he assumes that okay isn’t really the best way to describe her current state. But at least he knows she’s not hurt. Not physically at least.
“ Are you alone ? They still in the shop ? “
“ I’m alone now. No one’s here anymore. Can you come ? “
“ Obviously ! Go get yourself a coffe or something to calm down. I’ll be there in a minute. “
“ I can’t, I need to tidy up in here. I need to fix things. I need to — “
“ Callie ! You need to calm down. We’ll deal with it when I’m there, okay ? “
She sighs, take a moment, sighs again. Then answers.
“ Okay. “
“ And baby ? “
“ Yeah ? “
“ Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise. “
Angel Reyes is not a person to make promises. He knows he ain’t one to keep them anyway so he usually avoids them at all cost. Not with her though. Because he knows it’s as much a promise to her as it is to him. A promise to be better. Do better. Make things right.
A promise to be the person she deserved. A person that’s worthy of her love.
A promise that things are gonna be alright, for the both of them. Together.
“ Jesus fucking Christ. “
Shards of broken glass crack under his boots as Angel steps through the door of the shop, Callie following close behind, eyes still overcast with tears just waiting to be shed.
When she told him it was bad, he imagined it quite like this. Doesn’t mean it’s not still shocking to properly see it.
The windows are gone, all smashed up and broken, nothing but tiny pieces of glass now covering the floor of the shop. Flowers that used to be stacked up in vases all alone the walls, are scattered all over, heads ripped off, stomped on, dead.
Everything is destroyed. A livelihood in danger. And for what ?
The cash register is untouched. Nothing is missing. Not even a single fucking cent.
Angel’s eyes wander around the room, taking it all in. The more he looks at the damage, the more angry he gets. The more rage bubbles up inside of him.
“ That’s not the worst “ a timid voice speaks up from beside him. Callie’s fingers softly tug on his hand, intertwining with his. He places a gentle kiss on her head, savouring the smell of her daisy scented shampoo that seems to linger on her at all times.
“ What’s the worst then ? “
She doesn’t reply, just pulls him towards the back where the fridge is and another work bench. There’s a periwinkle blue wall that Callie always pins her ideas to for bouquets or arrangement. At least that’s the color it used to be.
Angel’s hand grips hers tighter as he steps into the room and his eyes fall onto the big bold letters smeared onto the wall. It’s thick black paint, running and dripping, probably written in a hurry.
“ Found you. “
That’s all it says. Two words. They’re enough to make him feel like someone has dumped a bucket up ice water over him though. It’s a thread. A warning. He’s used to dealing with these kinds of things when he’s the one they’re directed to. But this is not about him. Not in the slightest. This is all about her. All for her. And that’s the hardest part about it.
Angel has very little regard for his own life and though he faults his father for this to a certain extend, he knows it’s an amalgamation of all things that ever went wrong in his life. From his crippling sense of inadequacy compared to his brother, to losing his mother, to finding his place in a motorcycle club that feels like it’s gonna run off it’s tracks any time soon.
It’s all a mess and it’s all culminating in the fact that he doesn’t so much fear for his own life, even in the face of great danger. He’s reckless. If things were to happen to him, well so be it.
But things have changed a little recently. He could lie, say it was a sudden change of heart. The reality is though, that he has seen a glimpse of what life can be. Callie has lit a spark. One that wants to live. That wants to grow and change and become better. One that wants to experience a future. A good one. A happy one. One with her and her daughter.
Realizing someone is threatening that. Threatening her, it makes him boil over with rage. This is his girl. Loving and warm and innocent and happy. She doesn’t deserve this.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this one time he isn’t the villain of the story. Maybe this one time he can be the hero. Is meant to be the hero.
“ You think that asshole did it ? “
“ Travis ? For sure. He’s that kind of deranged. “
“ You know I can’t let you outta my sight anytime soon, right ? “
“ Maybe I don’t want you to. “
He realises then, just how scared she really is. She’s not putting up a fight. Not telling him how ridiculous he’s being. How she can handle this herself.
Knowing she’s terrified, makes him even more angry. This dude needs to be dealt with. And fast.
“ Where’s the kid ? “
“ She’s with my mom, she’s safe. “
“ Good. D’you wanna come to my place ? I’ll have the prospect come around and clean this up. We’ll figure this out together, okay ? “
“ Shouldn’t I call the police ? “
“ Let me handle this baby. Do you trust me ? “
He doesn’t realise how nerve wrecking and fundamental that question is until it leaves his lips. He’s not used to people trusting him and really, he can’t fault anyone for it. He’s a big grumpy guy with tattoos up and down his arms who has a perpetual frown etched on his face and is part of a motorcycle club. He’s not the poster-child for trustworthy.
And yet, she looks at him, places a soft kiss on his lips and nods. “ Yeah. Yeah I do. “
He thinks his heart has never felt so light in the face of danger.
There’s a funny feeling in his stomach when Angel unlocks the door to his house and lets Callie walk inside. She doesn’t belong here. In his sad little house with the dark furniture and the bare walls.
She’s all smiles and flowers and joy and he is — well none of that.
Angel never felt like he had to impress anyone, much less with his house. Though having her here makes him wish he’d put in some effort when he moved in. To make it feel like a home instead of 4 walls and a roof.
“ Sorry it’s a mess in here. Didn’t expect company to be honest. “
“ Oh no, don’t worry. I like it. “
He turns towards her with his eyebrow raised. He has eyes, he can see what the place looks like. Though it’s not dirty, it sure is untidy. There’s no need fo her to tease him or lie to spare his feelings.
Though when he looks at her, there’s no hint of teasing on her face. No lies. No deceit.
She’s being true and honest with him and that is another shot straight to his heart. A good one. One that makes him want to do better.
“ You being serious ? What could you possibly like ? “
“ It’s very you ! It feels like you and it looks like you and smells like you. “
“ What sweaty and dirty ? “
“ Would I kiss a man who is sweaty and dirty ? “ She says and wraps her arms around his neck.
Angel’s hands find their place on her waist, sitting there as if this is where they’ve always belonged. Her curves are soft and smooth and god, does he wants to touch all of them. Every inch of her body, every patch of skin. He wants to touch it, feel it, taste it.
There’s a carnal desire in him to have her like he’s never felt before. Sure there’s been girls he really wanted to fuck, before. It’s different with her tough. He feels it all over not just between his legs. It starts in the tips of his fingers, moves across his arms, his chest, his heart. It’s everywhere. All consuming.
Her lips fall onto his, taste him, feel him. Her tongue follows soon after. Hot and wet and soft. There’s something else in her kiss. A passion to match his. A desire to match his.
It’s like someone’s flipped a switch and the tension of earlier, filled with fear and anxiety, it’s gone. There’s another kind of tension now. Raw and sexual and physical.
Hands start roaming. She’s all gentle and delicate and sweet. But there’s a fire crackling underneath. Sparks flying just waiting to ignite something bigger. It’s bubbling underneath the surface. Brewing. Waiting.
And then when his lips softly make their way down her neck. It breaks free.
Callie lets out a moan of pleasure. It’s quiet and he almost misses it. But he doesn’t. He just catches it.
Lips on her neck, hands palming her ass, he feels a heat rising. Sensual, lustful, hot. So hot. It’s burning and he doesn't want it to stop. Not now. Not ever.
Buttons hit the floor as she rips open his shirt. “ I’m so sorry “ she laughs though her words are swallowed by his lips as he catches her in another breathtaking kiss.
“ Shut up, that’s the sexiest shit anyone has ever done. “
Angel grabs her by the thighs, lifts her up in his arms. This is the most precious cargo and she deserves to be worshiped.
“ Do you want this ? “ he asks, eyes locked on hers. He needs to hear it. Needs a yes. For her sake and for his. He wouldn’t survive uncertainty. He can’t be a mistake to her.
For once in his life, he wants to be a conscious decision. A choice.
“ Yes. Yeah I fucking do. “
And that about kills him.
Angel maneuvers them towards his tiny bedroom. The gray sheets and the dark curtains make it looks so dull and sad. He can’t wait to see her in here. Fuck her in here. To put a little ray of sun into this dark dark place.
He places her down softly and the way here hair falls around her head, it makes her looks like an Angel. Halo and everything. And she’s smiling. She’s happy. She wants him. Him. Of all people.
Then she take off her shirt and unclasped her bra and he is over and done. Like this is fucking heaven. It has to be.
He needs a moment just to take her in. All her radiant glory. All her beauty. Raw and unfiltered and unobscured. Just her.
He’s in love with this woman.
It’s an epiphany that is both monumental and casual as can be. It’s a fundamental truth that is now part of him the way his tattoos are, the way his mother’s death is, the way his absolute inadequacy is.
He is Angel Reyes and he is in love with this woman.
“ Baby you are a goddess.”
And he means it. Every word of it.
She blushes, looks away, then back at him. He softly takes his face in between her hands, strokes his cheek.
“ I uh — It’s been a while. Just thought you should know. “
“ But you want this ? “
“ So much. I want you, Angel. “
He doesn’t answer, not verbally at least. He answers with kisses. To her lips, her neck. Up and down her chest.
He answers with his tongue and it circles her nipples, worshipping her in the most delicious of ways. She’s squirming, letting out little sighs of pleasure. God this girl is gonna be the death of him.
In the matter of minutes, they both slip out of their pants and underwear. Being completely naked with her feels different than it ever felt. There’s no fireworks or butterflies or any of that Hollywood movie, high school love story, bullshit.
It’s raw and vulnerable and a little bit scare. Because this woman doesn’t just see his body. He gets to show her all of him. Even the things he doesn’t want to see himself. He is naked in all the ways a person can be naked. And he relished in it. Because sometimes, he thinks, facing your fears might just be worth it.
Callie wraps her leg around his waist. Urging him closer. Asking him to move.
So he does. And it feels like it always does, warm and wet and — just so good.
But there’s something completely different about all of this. Like some rosy tint rests over all of it. Like they’re caught in a bubble where bad things don’t exist for the time being. Just them.
His hands roam her body, hers grab his shoulders, fingernails running down his back with every move, every thrust. Moans echo around the room, filling it with bliss. With comfort. She’s moving against him in a steady, melodic rhythm, like waves crashing against the shore.
Maybe, he thinks, this can be home. Not the walls or the roof or the rooms. But her.
Callie is perched on a chair in the dining room, watching Angel scurry around the kitchen. The smell of bacon fills the air as her shirtless boyfriend prepares their lunch.
Wait, boyfriend ? Is he ? It feels like it. Like a boyfriend girlfriend situation. But they haven’t really talked about it. So is it fair to call him that in her head ?
“ I can hear you thinking from all the way over here. What’s up, baby ? You regretting this ? “
She’s in one of his plaid shirts, sipping from a freshly brewed cup of coffee, wallowing in post orgasmic bliss while he’s preparing a bacon and cheese burger for her. How could she ever regret any of this ?
Though his words sound joking, she knows he is anything but. There’s an edge in there. One that lets her know he’s being serious beneath the teasing.
“ Never. I don’t regret a single second with you, Angel Reyes. “
And now it’s his turn to blush.
“ Just wish you’d put on a shirt when cooking. You’re gonna burn yourself, I can see it now. “
“ Ah, just gonna make my front match my back. “ he points out, motioning to his shoulder blades painted lovely shades of pink, lines of scratches up and down them.
“ Sorry about that. “
“ Yeah don’t apologize for it. Just means I did a good job. “
“ Oh you did. “
They smirk at each other and for a second she wants to drag him back to bed. Or do it right here. On the kitchen table.
Though her stomach rumbling pulls them out of their loving haze.
“ Someone’s hungry. “ Angel says, then moves back towards the stove. He delicately stacks the burger, puts so much effort into it. She thinks it’s cute. To see how much he cares about such trivial, unimportant things just because he wants to make her feel welcome and happy and comfortable. Just because it’s her. She likes that he makes an effort. Even if it’s just a fucking burger.
“ Bon appetit. It’s the special Angel burger. “ Angel annouces and places a plate in front of her.
“ Oh is it ? What makes it special ? “
“ Well, I made it and my name is Angel. “
“ Is it made with extra love ? “ she asks, and Angel takes her hand in his, kisses her knuckles and nods. “ With all the love in the world, baby. “
Callie’s eyes trail down his arms, widen a little as they stop on one particular spot.
“ That’s new. “
“ Huh ? “ he follows her eyes. Stops at the little delicate piece of art now permanently edged into his skin. “ Oh yeah. Got it last night. “
“ That’s the ursa major “
“ Mmhh. “
“ That’s kinda my name. “
“ Aaah nah. “
“ Angel. You got a tattoo for me ? “
“ Maybe I really like stars n shit. “
“ Do you ? “
“ Or maybe I just really like you. So what ? “
It’s right here, right now. Sitting on his kitchen chair in his shirt, looking at his tattoo and eating the food he made for her. Right here and now that she notices how important this man has become to her.
How hard she’s falling for him.
How irrevocably and undeniably in love with him she really is.
“ I’m falling in love with you, Angel Reyes. “
It’s the words he wants to hear but he’d be a liar if he said they don’t scare him shitless. There’s pressure that comes with them. Responsibility. And that’s not something he’s known to be particularly good at.
But he wants to try. He wants to be good. Wants to be better. Wants to be enough.
“ Yeah ? Well that’s good cause I’m crazy about you, Callie. You’re my sun and all my stars. “
It’s awfully cheesy. It’s true though. Nothing’s ever been more true in all his life, he’s fairly sure about that.
“ Hey Angel, what are you doing today ? “
“ Dunno, nothing really. Gonna head to the scrapyard later. Other than that, nothing. “
“ D’you wanna come pick up Daisy with me ? We can go get ice cream or something. I just — I wanna have one good day with my favorite people before I deal with the shop. “
The thought of them 3 going to get ice cream. Of them sharing a day of pure fun and love and affection. He can’t help but let his heart soar for a second. Is this what it feels like ? Being part of a family that cherishes you ? He hopes he gets to keep this little family he found all on his own. That he gets to feel this giddy excited feeling for a long time.
That he gets to be with these girls for many more days to come.
He knows there’s a lot of shit that needs to be dealt with and that Travis guy is on the very top of the list.
But today, for one single day, he’ll let it all fall into the background and focus on this new found happiness that’s suddenly taking over his life.
All he wants is one day. And that’s what he’s gonna take.
“ That sounds like a pretty fucking great idea. “
So he sends EZ a text telling him to keep an eye out for the silver car. For the guy driving it.
And with his mind a little at ease, he kisses Callie once, twice, three times.
Their troubles don’t vanish and his demons don’t cease to exist, but they can wait until tomorrow.
Today’s for kissing and ice cream and love.
#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes fanfic#angel reyes x reader#mayans mc imagine#mayans imagine#mayans mc fanfiction#mayans fanfiction#mayans fanfic
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Let’s all quit fucking around and give Renee her Oscar for ‘Judy’ now
I am several months late to the ‘Judy’ party. But due to a trip getting cancelled last minute I’m having a staycation instead of a vacation. (Tomato, tomahto!) Needless to say, I’ve got time on my side and I’m watching movies, baby. Time for Judy Garland, baby. Because that’s showbiz, baby!!!
I regret even joking about the razzle dazzle of show business because for Judy Garland show business, the very business she adored, also destroyed her. And that whole journey through the dark, twisted roller coaster of entertainment is sort of the thesis statement of this whole thing.
“The biz” was a cruel bitch to the greatest entertainer of all time. Her nic-name was Miss Show Business for crying out loud and yet when we meet Zellweger, playing the title character in ‘Judy’, she’s in the final year of her life, struggling to keep a roof over her children’s heads. She’s gaunt, exhausted, addicted to pills, alcohol and can’t manage to meet a decent man to save her life.
And instead of nitpicking every wrong choice that led her there, director Rupert Goold allows us into the plodding sojourn that was Judy Garland’s final tour in England. She’d lost custody of her children to ex-husband no. 3 and finally went across the pond where her fans were still willing to pay top dollar for the Hollywood legend.
But when she gets to England we peer into the sheer loneliness that encompasses the lives of the super famous. No friends to share dinner with, kids thousands of miles away, and vulturous men always lurking on the sidelines. It’s grim and bleak and you can’t imagine things ever getting so bad. And yet they were. But, again, and I have to stress this because some power of Judy Garland compels me to underline this as a fellow woman in the arts, this is not the story of how Judy Garland ended up broke. It’s the story of how she tried her damnedest to make enough money to get her kids back because we actors are tryers.
She was a relentless performer who tried. Over and over again. She tried and tried and tried. She tried to put on a good show every night and we watch Zellweger lose the battle to those cloying pills and that seductive martini until she quite literally falls on her face. No, she doesn’t pretend like it didn’t happen. She gets up and is booed off stage and she barks back. And then she gets fired and gets word that her children want to stay with their father in Los Angeles. The final twist of the knife. Zellweger delivers that final conversation to her youngest daughter with aplomb and grace. The Judy Garland we wanted to know - Judy Garland, the mother. Tortured, flawed, generous and loving. A sensitive, soulful singer who had to fight for every scrap of dignity she ever got.
And I kept finding myself wanting to change how things turned out. She was so, so good. So talented. So kind. So willing to give herself to the audience, to new friends. She deserved more.
In one scene, that gives me chills to even think about, she asks two male fans to dinner and they can’t believe their luck. Only after dragging Judy Garland around the streets of London all night in hopes of a meal do they agree to host her at their home just blocks away. She obliges graciously and, of course because a living legend is in your home, they totally ruin the meal. And she couldn’t be a more gracious guest. She eats the terrible, soggy eggs, then, sings while her new friend plays the piano and, then, comforts him when he crumples into a ball of tears, overcome by this grand situation he finds himself in. She knows, and we know, that these two men are gay and the point is not belabored or sentimentalized. Instead, Goold treats us, the audience, like grown-ups with enough context to understand how important Judy Garland was to the gay community. She was their patron saint. Be it all the struggle, the pain under the surface and the resolve to put one foot in front of the other and sing her heart out in spite of it all. A metaphor for being gay, perhaps. Her life and legacy meant something to the community and still does. (The Stonewall Riots occurred on the day Judy Garland died and I think it played no small part in pushing things over the edge that fateful day.)
What a fight it was to be Judy Garland. A star who’d been spit out by Hollywood. Any actress over 40 will tell you their version of the story. And maybe no one understands that today quite like the star of ‘Judy’, Miss Zellweger.
I don’t think Renee Zellweger’s ever been better. She fucking soars. She sings her ass off (and I didn’t know the bitch could sing, not like this). In some instances, the resemblance is so striking between Zellweger and Garland it baffles the mind to reconcile that you are not looking at the original Judy, herself. Somehow, Zellweger completely transforms even the expression in her eyes as if the thought process, or the experience, or perhaps even the torment, is the same between both starlets. How else can an actor arrive at the exact same place as the person they are imitating? How do you achieve not just a version of a person, but the person, themselves?
I do not know what spiritual voodoo Zellweger achieved (move over, Christian Bale!). But this performance is an achievement of the highest order. I imagine Garland herself, at times her toughest critic, would be thrilled to watch the film even in its hardest moments.
Because Judy, and I suspect Renee, are consummate performers. Completely engrossed. Not engrossed. Obsessed. No, not obsessed. Addicted...
Judy Garland was completely addicted to the stage. Yes, Lady Gaga coined “I live for the the applause” but that’s only because she did her homework. Any diva in training gives their respect to the o.g. Judy Garland devoted her entire heart and soul to her performances. Often to her detriment, and to the detriment of those around her.
To be so completely talented, I imagine, is a curse to the performer. And when you’re a mother, a curse to your children. The performer’s gift has the power to kill them. It can drive them to the brink of self-destruction. The pressure and the anxiety of not performing at the same level again and again, night after night, drove Judy to the brink. The pills and the booze became absolutely necessary.
Years ago, I recall news stories about Renee Zellweger suggesting addiction and anorexia. She had wasted away, rumors swirling of drug abuse chased her - she’d been branded with a scarlet letter.
And then, I saw her in person, in Santa Monica. I was inside a Barnes and Noble bookstore (a rare occurrence nowadays in the era of dwindling brick and mortar). She was skin and bones. I barely recognized her. She looked...deranged. Her eyes were bulging nearly as much as the veins in her neck. I didn’t know why she was so distraught but my eyes fixed on her like a cheetah staring down a gazelle. She was just on the other side of the glass, and then she locked in on me. Suddenly, she was the cheetah. She stared at me, then a sour look fell upon her and she dashed away. I was shaken. I had never felt so judged by a famous person before. I had never shared such a fraught moment with a star of her caliber. But then, I wondered, maybe she hadn’t been looking at me at all. What if the glass was opaque and she wasn’t staring at me at all? What if she was looking at her own reflection that whole time? Could it be that she stared at herself that way, with that loathsome look in her eyes?
And now my heart breaks because I do believe she saw herself. She saw something in herself that she couldn’t stand and she fled from the reflection. Just like Judy would’ve ran. Just like Judy.
I’ve asked so many questions and I apologize but I must ask a few more:
What if Renee Zellweger doesn’t win an Oscar for ‘Judy’? Oof. Yes, I remember that she won for ‘Cold Mountain’ in 2004 but it was sort of payback because she’d been nominated for ‘Chicago’ in 2003 and was a shoe-in (but lost) and even that had been a sort of a gimme nom since she’d been nominated in ‘02 for ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ and lost even after she stole the entire world’s heart.
In a parallel way, Garland was famously snubbed for a ‘Star is Born’ in 1955 when she gave the performance of her life and lost to the quintessential Hollywood beauty, Grace Kelly. After a lifetime of comparisons and cruel remarks about her looks, it had to feel like a stab to the heart to lose to the pretty girl, the princess. Poor Judy. She just wanted to be beautiful and thin. But instead she was talented and charming. And that’s not to say she wasn’t beautiful and thin, she just didn’t fit the stupid, totally arbitrary model of beauty. And she eventually wasted away to a skeleton. Why did we do that to her? Why do we do that still?
I don’t know. But I do know that Renee Zellweger should win this god damn Oscar.
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House of Horrors
Pairing: RK900 x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Gore, violence, torture, one-sided relationship, verbal and physical abuse, AU, whole lotta things going on here
A/N: So, I played Outlast: Whistleblower and have been in a horror-y mood ever since. Nines’ personality was heavily inspired by Eddie Gluskin so He ain’t nice here and is basically a yandere (?) pos, enjoy!
W.C: 2.8k
Fear used to be something you felt when you saw a small spider crawling in your room. Panic was just that awful sensation that you would feel when you met someone new. Dread was the feeling that consumed you before any meetings you had with your superiors.
Oh, how you wished those simpler things were what caused your heart to pound in your ears. No, things just had to turn so sinister. You were an employee, you hardly felt like you were of any worth in the massive corporation that was CyberLife, but hey, it paid the bills.
You wanted to smack your past self for being so naïve, for not seeing what was right in front of her. A megacorporation that created androids needed technicians for a secluded project, how did you not think it was shady?
It didn’t matter. You were stuck here with countless CyberLife employees’ bodies, many torn apart and twisted in the most gut-churning way. You were alone here with no possible way to protect yourself from them.
Them. The defective androids. This center was made as a ‘replacement’ for the android dumpsters in Detroit as an effort to gain the world’s trust back after the failed revolution led by the RK200 model. It was only the pretty front they put up for the world, androids that came here were ‘fixed’.
They would take the deviants and perform those weird experiments on them ranging from playing with their memories to messing up their entire head and making it into something much more horrifying. You shouldn’t have cared, everyone said those were just machines that didn’t feel pain or anything from the crude treatment.
Then why did they scream? Why did they beg? Why did they break?
Why did CyberLife even fund something like this? Was your race truly so horrible? Inflicting horrors upon horrors on beings that seemed to feel just for the sake of it like they were sadistic hunters.
The androids somehow got out and many did not show mercy to their torturers, killing them and ripping them apart like they were nothing. A part of you did not feel pity for them, they too were monsters.
You only started working here two weeks ago and you never stood for the things they did. But you were a nobody, a nobody who probably wouldn’t find another job in this economy.
And that’s how you ended up here, breaths ragged and heart-pounding as you frantically tried to quiet yourself. You slowly took out your camera and turned it to night vision. It was an older model from the 10s that you found in your coworker’s desk, you silently thanked Maria and hoped she was okay. No one was here, you let out a sigh.
“You let me violate you.”
You almost shrieked, fuck, fuck. He was here and he was close. His sickening yet beautiful voice would sing that song as he walked around, searching for a lover. Searching for you.
“You let me desecrate you.”
You lower your camera as you peek through the slots of the tight locker, you could see his red LED flashing in the dark. You held your breath again when stood right in front of you and thanks to the light coming from his temple you could see him baring his teeth at you, like a rabid animal.
“Found you, pet.” With that, the locker was flicked open and you inventorially screamed, trying your hardest to push him away but all that got you was a rough shove towards the floor.
“Now, now,” You picked yourself up and tried to back off, but you felt something hit your head and the world around somehow became darker and thus you drifted away.
“I have so much to show you, my little rabbit.” Was the last thing you heard before completely blacking out.
You awoke in a chair, tied and bound in what looked like a hunter’s chamber, your camera was nowhere to be found. Some bodies were lying around, mutilated beyond recognition. It looked like it was the RK900’s work.
You knew of his model, a model designed to kill and hunt, a model created for destruction. You saw him being brought here when you first arrived, chained like he would lash out the moment he was set free. His blue eyes were breath-taking, and you wondered why CyberLife designed someone so visually pleasing for such purposes.
You looked at his file, model RK900, serial #313 248 317 – 87. Previously used in the D.P.D, the reason for the deviation was unknown. You passed by his cell once, out of sheer curiosity, the RK900 model wasn’t available everywhere and he was the first one to be brought here.
He was quiet, very quiet. He just sat on the white chair and stared down. You didn’t try to talk, you just observed. A state-of-the-art model reduced to nothing but a prisoner. “RK900?” You called; this would probably get you in trouble, but you just had to satisfy your curiosity.
“Are you alright?” You asked, hoping for an answer yet doubting the possibility of getting one. And you didn’t, you had sighed and simply left. That was your only interaction with him before the shit hit the fan, it didn’t explain why he locked you up and then chased you all over the place for the past hours when you managed to escape.
“My little rabbit.” God, you hated that voice. You glared at him as he approached you with a soft smile, it threw you off. “I am glad our little game of hide and seek is over,” he got closer and reached out for your face, “You are finally here, right where I want you.”
This was the first time you got to see properly him since the outbreak and he looked terrifying, to say the least. The right side of his face was stuck in different patches of white, his right eye looked damaged as his sclera was dark, almost black. His white shirt and pants were stained with blood, some of it looked fresher than the other.
“And that is?” you spat.
He laughed for the first time. “Oh, you sweet little thing.” His hand tugged your hair behind your ear and the contact alone sent shivers down your spine. You were afraid of being broken like the others; he was a combat android fully capable of twisting you in any way he pleased.
“You are yet to be perfect.” His words were cold. He retreated, going to a small table at the back of the room.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Don’t be afraid, I’d never do something that terrible to you.” Something was menacing about what he said, probably the fact that he held a combat knife. Panic filled you now, and you desperately tried to break free, it proved to be useless.
“No, please. You don’t have to do this.” You whimpered but he approached you regardless, holding that thing in his hands like it was his little toy. “I do. You see, humans always have this fire in them,”
The knife neared your face and you shut your eyes tight, awaiting the worst. You screamed when it tore your skin, it wasn’t very deep or wide, but it still hurt like a bitch. “And the only way to extinguish that pathetic spark is to break them.”
The knife moved downward and dug deeper into your cheek. You tried to hold back, to not give this piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing his work’s effect on you. But you couldn’t, it hurt, it hurt so much. You wailed and clenched your hands into a tight fist, your eyes flowed with tears and you looked at him.
He didn’t even have that smug expression anymore, there was only emptiness. Unsettling, creepy emptiness. “Please, please, stop!”
He chuckled; a dark awful laugh barely hearable compared to your screams of pain. “I am afraid I can’t do that. This is your punishment for trying to leave me, you have to be a good girl and accept it.”
Your throat was sore and dry by the time he was done marking you. You didn’t cry anymore, only shook with small sobs as he stared at you. This was it; this was the end of you. You were going to die in this mess by the hands of some deranged lunatic. No, no. You were a fighter and this fucker won’t break this easily.
“Why me?” You wanted to lure him in, to make him believe you cared about him.
You saw him hesitate to answer, he was probably scanning you. He stepped back and went back to his table. “You are special.”
“How so, sir?” it was hard, trying to act like an innocent toy but you kept the act up for your sake. “Not many humans care about damaged merchandises.” He said as he wiped his bloody knife.
“You approached me when nobody else did, I wanted to make you mine ever since I saw you walk away.” Right. “Why are you even here?”
He stopped and you gulped, shit. “You weren’t as quiet as I would’ve liked you to be while taking your punishment, pet. You don’t get to ask any more questions.”
He came back to you and his hand brushed against your wound, causing you to flinch. “I didn’t want to do it, my love, but you left me no choice. Now, how about we start making you a beautiful dress?”
You knew it wasn’t a question, you were his toy for now and he will make you do whatever he pleased for. You nodded and he unrestrained you, you tried to get up, but you didn’t have any power left in you after hours of running and getting cut like a fucking piece of meat.
“You must be tired. Let me carry you.” He said and carried you like you were his bride, it made you feel somehow sicker. The light-headedness you experienced only got worse with every step he took, and you felt darkness consume you again.
“You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you”
You groan when you hear him sing again, you didn’t want to hear his vile voice. “Ah, you are awake.”
You slowly opened your eyes and saw yourself in a mirror, he stood behind you with a menacing smile. You looked different, the wounded side of you face was stitched up with dried blood surrounding it, that did not look good. But most importantly, you wore a dress, a pretty dotted dress.
“di… did you change my clothes?” You whispered, he put his hand on your shoulder and pressed his lips to the top of your head, you almost gagged. “Of course, I made this for my beautiful wife.” His smile grew wider.
His wife?
“Do you like it, my love?” There was this dangerous edge to his voice, you knew what he wanted you to say. “Yes, sir.” He hummed and nudged you to get up. You did ever so slowly, having to rely on him to push yourself up.
Fuck, your plan to manipulate seemed to be a certain suicide, either that or it was going well. “Where are we going?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyes at him. “It’s a surprise.”
You follow him for five minutes between the rooms and halls of the center, there were so many bodies twisted in the most unimaginable ways, some had necks that were turned a 180°, some we decapitated, some were mutilated beyond recognition. You wanted to throw up.
“We are here.” The awful stench of the rest of the building disappeared when you entered the clear, bright room. It was weirdly… calming.
“This will be our home from now own. We will be together forever, you won’t be ungrateful like that bratty detective, right?”
Your heart quickened for the millionth time tonight, what was he even talking about? It didn’t matter. You knew that leaving this room will be impossible the moment that door is locked, you had to make your move, now.
“Thank you.” He looked relieved and relaxed; his eyes still held the same insanity to them. “I knew you would appreciate my love for you.”
He passed you and went on to tidy the bed, you looked around for anything you could use against and then you noticed it, a knife the door. Bingo. You slowly moved back and leaned down, taking the sharp weapon with ease as the android rambled.
“Other people never appreciated my gestures, he never liked how I protected him from this awful world. He just had to lash out, to try to abandon me for someone else. We could’ve been beautiful, but he practically wanted me to snap his pretty neck.”
You approached as your heart kept pounding and your mouth went dry. Was that why he was here? Did he murder his previous lover? You shook those thoughts off and tapped his shoulder. He paused and looked at you in question, you wrapped your arms around him.
“He sounds like an awful man.” You muttered and he returned your hug. “I knew you would understand me, my love.”
That was your moment to strike, you pulled the knife holding hand and struck it into his thiruim pump without giving him a chance to fight back. The knife easily damaged the thing and you heard RK900 curse before shoving you behind.
You fell and you saw him slowly descend to the ground. “You whore, you ungrateful bitch!” He shouted. You watch him for a moment before you realize this is your chance to bail, so you do. You got up quickly and took the knife with you and put it in your pocket. You panted as you ran towards the exit, you were so close, so close to freedom.
“Come back here!” You didn’t stop but did turn around a bit to see him struggling to follow you but being closer than what you thought, shit. You noticed one of the guard’s body and a gun beside it, you reached for it but were pulled back by a strong chokehold.
“Why did you turn out like him? Didn’t you love me?” You choke and gasp for air as his grip tightened, “I would’ve loved for all of eternity, you whore!” You try to push him as your vision darkened, your feet kicked in every direction in panic but then you remembered.
You took out the knife and you plunged it into his left eye, he stumbled back, and you rushed to the gun. You took hold of it and backed towards the wall. He took the knife out and looked at you, “I’m going to-“
You didn’t let him continue as you shot him between his eyes, another near his thiruim pump, and another and another. You stopped when you were sure he shut down and your heaving breathing finally calmed down. The fucker was dead.
“Hands in the air!”
You flinched as you did exactly what the voice said. You turned and saw SWAT members finally enter the building, “I am human.” You said and one of them scanned you, “Did you see anyone alive?” a bigger man asked you, you shook your head.
You assumed he was the leader, “Get her out of here and search the building. Terminate every android on site.” You were still on the ground when he helped you up and another took you out of there.
When you reached the exit, you noticed your camera laying on the ground, you pushed the man away and reached for it. It still worked and it had everything on it, all the pain and misery you went through for this shitty company and all the horrors it created.
They will pay, and you will make sure the world saw what they were.
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[Coco] Holy Fuck - Fake Priest AU
Title: Holy Fuck Summary: The missing sex scene between chapter 14 and 15 of Nuestra Iglesia, which no one asked for but @senoraluna and I wrote anyway. Characters: Ernesto de la Cruz, OC. Rating: Explicit.
A/N: We got nothing to say in our defense. Check this out on Ao3 to see @senoraluna’s art!
***
This was happening. He was here.
Father John Johnson had to reiterate it in his mind, lest his own frenzied thoughts convinced him that Father Ernest in his room at nearly midnight was only another dream. He didn’t wish to question it again, allow any voice of doubt or any testing of wills, or he would lose his nerve entirely. Besides, from the strange - oddly amused, he would dare say - smile Father Ernest wore, it didn’t seem the man had come to any sort of realization that he should not violate his vows this way. The burden laid on him alone to either back out of the experiment or proceed. Someone was going to have to speak - he was going to have to speak because it dawned on him he was practically holding his breath.
“I meditated the most efficient means to preserve as much of our modesty and dignity possible during this… sin,” he muttered. “If you simply turn about, kneel on the bed, lift your clothing, we should hopefully conclude within a brief few minutes and escape with… as much… discretion we can during something so unclean.”
Now when he had rehearsed this plan in his head, and then aloud to the wall, it had seemed so very logical and precise. However the look Father Ernest was giving him suggested he had spoken in English or said something just physically impossible.
Had he gotten it wrong? Truth be told his intimate details of sodomy came from limited sources; quickly passed sights in busy city allyways, piecing a visual picture of confessional details, and some faded, black and white prints of old vulgar vases in history books of the pagan Greeks.
Unaware of his thoughts, Ernesto kept staring for several moments. Oh Jesus Christ he really thought Ernesto was going to let him top, didn’t he? If not entirely taken aback by the nerve of his, Ernesto might have laughed. The situation as a whole was slightly surreal, truth be told - there he was, about to fuck the insufferable white priest - but that absolutely took the cake.
A few brief minutes, he said. Well, of course it would be a very short matter if he let the gringo lead; then he would be done and Ernesto would not. That idiota failed to grasp was that he hadn’t bothered to get there for a few short minutes.
Well, no trouble. He was about to let that be known.
“If you think I’m letting you anywhere near my ass while you don’t have the first clue of what you’re doing, you’re very much mistaken,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “I’m the one with prior experience here. So, you kneel on the bed.”
Fine, maybe that wasn't the most charming he'd ever been, but Padre Juan had a way to get under his skin. Figuratively. Whether he would ever allow that to happen in a literal sense, it remained to be seen.
“And allow you to-?” Juan’s face burned an even deeper shade than Ernesto had ever seen. “Oh no, no , I have read the, er- you know- the… texts on sodomy and it is the more mature man, the elder, the wiser , who is meant to lead t e act. ” He underlined each point with a gesture of the hand holding the candle, and gestured at the cot behind him. Lengthy statements when it was obvious he could hardly be much older. “And do watch your language there’s no reason for us to be crude about this. Besides I had gathered you hardly know much more than I!”
All right, fine, Ernesto thought. Fuck him, and not in the way he'd been intending to.
"Well. Since you're so old and wise, then you can certainly sort this out on your own," he said, and turned to the door. Amazing, how quickly he’d manage to piss him off. Almost a new record.
John watched him take a few steps, holding his breath. There it was, an out. Every chance to let this end without his own courage failing him. But then- how would he ever know? How could he fix this miserable state so he was no longer going around, maddened with repugnant fantasies distracting him from duties, like some deranged pagan?
He’d been a proper priest for six years now, and never in all his time had he found leading a mass so distracting, or prayer so hypocritical when his mind was stuffed with thoughts about his fellow Father. How much longer until it became so unbearable the church learned he was slipping and cast him out?
“Wait,” he mustered. “I wasn’t… seeking to offend you I do recognize you are…” And all he tried to hide reared itself forward in the volume his voice fell. “Doing me a great favor.” Another swallow, a gulp of his pride. “I am extremely out of my depth here and- and incredibly nervous.”
Ernesto paused, and turned slowly. He could see it plain as day now, the fear on Padre Juan's face, born of desperate hope and great terror of the pits of Hell. Was that bullshit about being his elder and more experienced an attempt at hiding all that? Of course it was. He could see that now.
Had he been more self-aware, Ernesto might have thought he knew something about hiding fear and doubts behind a thick layer of bluster and forced confidence - but he wasn't self-aware enough, and he did not think of that. What he did think was that, for the entire thing to go anywhere, Juan really needed to relax. He would probably be tight as a coiled spring otherwise, making sex pretty difficult for both.
Ernesto had no desire to make that night… anything at all like the nights in the barracks. So he drew in a long breath, and turned fully to face him. "Then let me lead. I know what I'm doing."
For the first time, the unrelenting pair seemed to reach a decision where one surrendered without a migraine-inducing battle. John’s white flag came in a forced heavy exhale.
“...So be it. How do you believe we should… go on then?” For such a self-assured leader of sermons, stumbling over words like this was so forgein and humiliating.
And ah, what a chance that was for Ernesto - shoving him in the role of pupil for once, with him as the teacher of far more enjoyable lessons than the proper way to hold hosts during the Holy Communion. He held back a smile that would have been more of a grin, and nodded. Time to take charge. "Put the candle on the nightstand."
“The candle, of course, I wouldn’t dream of shaming us-” John startled, and swiftly blew it out.
Ah. That was… not what he had in mind. "... Juan." Ernesto's voice rang out through near-complete darkness. "I can't see a thing ."
“Oh good, good. I worried the moonlight would be too bright--”
"I told you to put it down, not to blow it out. Do you have any matches?" Ernesto spoke slowly, chasing away the mental image of his hand hitting the back of Juan's head, repeatedly. It was tempting, but hard to achieve while unable to see anything.
“Ah, Ernest ,” The gringo had the audacity to punctuate his ‘correct’ form of names in response to his own being said in Spanish. “You’re not… proposing we look upon each other’s bare forms in the light?”
"You can shut your eyes. I need to be able to see what I'm doing," Ernesto muttered. Truth be told he would probably be able to get things done in the dark with some patience, but with that last remark on his name good old Juan had used up all his extra rations of patience for the night.
“Ab- absolutely not!” the usually authoritative retort came out like a choke on bad wine. “We must be able to look upon each other in the future following this night with...with purity and without desire and if we see each other then…” he only realized the hole he was digging himself into once he’d said too much.
Listen to him going, Ernesto thought, like he wasn’t struggling to even look at him as things were already. He smiled. "Ah, but is this not meant to test you?" Ernesto asked, sounding just a little smug. He stepped closer, blindly. Now that, Juan could not argue.
“Test me, sí, but not ruin the purity of our relationship.”
“ ‘To the pure all things are pure’. ” Ernesto couldn’t remember the rest of the verse, he only recalled that one because he’d read it over in mass a week ago. He couldn’t remember how it was in Latin either, but he didn’t need to: a simple test of who was more moral was all he needed to win. He took a step forward, now less than an inch away from Juan. Now either he’d admit to being less pure than him, or he’d go grab the matchbox.
“I’ll...I’ll grab the matchbox,” the gringo relented, or perhaps searched for an excuse to scutter away. Even in the darkness, one could feel the body heat.
Ah, Ernesto thought, finally talking sense. He stood there in the dark and, as he waited, loosened his collar and began to unbutton the cassock. By the time a match was struck, casting a tremulous light in the room, his chest was bared. The air was a little chilly, but no matter; he’d get a chance to warm up soon enough.
John nearly tripped over his own bare feet when he turned about to the sight. “Oh you’re- uh- why are you… undressing?” he struggled to keep a neutral tone as he his eyes darted around the room like an incensed man, to gaze upon anything but the bare, brown, and clearly… robust body.
Ernesto shrugged, keeping his tone casual. "What we plan on doing can hardly be achieved with clothes on - and certainly you do not want me to defile the holy cloth by wearing it during the act, do you?" he added, and pushed it off his shoulders. "I was rather surprised you suggested as much earlier."
Realization hit John like a slap. “Sí! We musn’t defile-- right -- I hadn’t expected you to show up wearing--” he stammered, struggling to not let the novice priest realize he had just remembered protocol better than himself. Not that there was precisely a protocol for… that kind of situation. It was simply not meant to happen.
But oh God, John was so desperate.
“I’ll just-- give you your privacy, but... I will leave on my shift, it is... not a holy garment.” Then he closed his eyes, as if that would make Ernest’s nudity non-existent. It however didn’t counter the terrible part of himself that, especially below the waist, was painfully eager to see it.
"Well then, do as you said earlier. Kneel on the bed, and worry of nothing." The smile was audible in Ernesto’s tone. It was like magic. Without a protest, a haughty look, a fuss, or even disapproving frown, Juan complied doing just that. And all this time he’d just needed to be naked. Well, that was… good to know. An effective way to shut him up, if not one he could use in public.
Ernesto reached in a pocket to take a small bottle of anointing oil before discarding his cassock entirely, stepping closer to the bed. It was… almost alluring, seeing Juan like that: on his hands and knees, head bowed, waiting. Of course, that shift was in the way - but it was hardly a problem.
Sitting behind him, Ernesto placed a hand over his ass through the thin fabric, giving it a firm squeeze.
“What in all creation!”
The words jumped from John’s mouth so quickly it sounded like one. In an instant he recognized it was English, and cleared his throat and lowered his eyes. “Lo siento, I wasn’t expecting-- you’ll have to warn me.”
When was the last time he had been touched anywhere forbidden? Boyhood surely, back in a time of innocence. Baths by the maids - and even in childhood he and the other boys knew better than to behave so vulgarly. And since he was cast out, he could only recall the rare hug initiated from the weeping women he comforted in his parish in America. No Mexican had been so grateful yet. Ironic, considering their habit of over-touching one another.
Ernesto blinked, taken aback by the outburst, then chuckled. No man he'd been with had reacted like that to a simple touch, let alone in the army. It probably would have had the same effect regardless of who touched him, but Ernesto still found it… quite flattering. "Ah, my apologies. I will be careful." He placed his hand back on the gringo's rear, but didn't squeeze again. "I will pull up the shift now. All right?"
Oh God, getting warnings was only going to make it worse, wasn’t it? Just hearing him say it made John’s pulse quicken to a degree he could nearly hear it in his own ears. A fine layer of sweat coated his palms, making the coarse, nun-knit blanket beneath him damp.
“Of course, of course, anything you deem necessary to get it over with. On second thought you needn’t… tell me everything.”
Ernesto raised an eyebrow, and slowly pulled up the shift, exposing his rear. Somehow, it was… even whiter than the rest of him; he supposed it had likely never never been touched by the sun. He ran a hand over it and ah, it was soft . Even the hair was fine and blonde, reminding him of a baby chick - decidedly not a very seductive thing to point out, so he decided not to.
The gringo kept quiet, probably with every ounce of willpower, but then there was a strange humming sound. Almost like music, except that Padre Juan truly disliked secular music. "No?"
“No, or I will.. lose my nerve.”
"Very well," Ernesto said, hand still on his ass. He stroked his thumb over it, and licked his lips. Ah, Padre Juan was far from a beauty, but the sight made his breath quicken all the same, his cock beginning to stir. It had been a while since he’d last had a man. Dribbling some of the anointing oil in his hand, he slid his hand between his thighs, brushing it against his testicles. "Spread your legs a little."
“Why is your hand… wet?” John forced out the words like he was speaking against a gag. Which he nearly was, the amount his embarrassment was making every part of his body tense and lock, along with his subconscious attempt to bury his face in his hanging nightgown.
A hand was on his genitals.
A hand that was not his. Dear God in Heaven.
“Oil. To make it easier,” Ernesto said, choosing to omit the fact it was anointing oil, not something he’d just grabbed from the kitchen. Still, something about the tenseness of Juan’s back made him pause. He fell silent for a few moments and, for the first time, he hesitated.
“... It’s not bound to work. We can stop.”
“You…” A note of surprise entered Juan’s voice. A few seconds passed, then a firmer press to his words slipped in his voice. “... I have to try. Even if you believe a remote possibility, I need a solution. I’m...desperate,” he admitted.
It was a possibility, Ernesto supposed; back in the barracks, many men had wanted nothing more to do with the-- arrangement many of them had, after the first try. Ernesto didn’t precisely plan on leaving Padre Juan bleeding - he made it tempting but not like that, something in him balked at the prospect - but perhaps, once he did try, he would find he no longer desired it. That would be a bit of a blow to Ernesto’s pride, but he could handle that. Probably.
“... All right.” He pushed his thighs apart, just a little. And after all, if it kept the gringo here, whether he enjoyed it or not-- there would be no harm done right? He was clearly the type of man who could do with a release of pent-up tension.
John resisted asking what the point of his actions were. Why a hand was rubbing oil, why his legs had to be parted to such a vulgar, showy position, and oh there was his answer. One of the fingers was there-- that untouchable, horrid little hole, that acted like a trigger making John’s head snap up.
“Ah-- must you touch-- that’s rather unsanitary, do you have to soil your hand with… with...” his mind spun so quickly he could barely keep his words in order.
“Just getting you ready.” Ernesto’s voice came out a little huskier than usual. “I know what I’m doing.” The other hand, the one without oil on it, came up to rub the small of his back, trying to soothe him. He was wound up like the spring of a clock, of course, just like expected.
Apparently there were more steps to this than ‘bend over and be done with it’ as John had bargained. So the man braced himself, closed his eyes and attempted to think of something else. God? No, too much guilt. Texas? Too sorrowful. Nature? God’s wonders- whoops, back to God again. Cigarettes. There, that was something to focus on. He could smoke as soon as this was over and calm down.
But the moment he began to allow his body even a little distraction, something worse crept in. Something even more forgein than the impure touches. It started as a tingle, like the faintest tremble of the smallest harp string, a pleasant noise so soft it could be easily overlooked unless you were holding the instrument and felt the reverberations through it. Something was being triggered from the finger circling his hole, and it was strange enough to distract him until he felt Ernesto’s finger begin to press against it. His mind stilled. There was guilt, there was horror, there was terror, there was unholy desire for more. “Is that-- are you-- are we doing the deed?”
“Getting you ready.” That reassuring tone again, the hand still rubbing the small of his back - then the oiled finger pressed in a bit more, just enough to breach.
“You mean-- your finger...?” he choked out. It was important to remember he was a virgin, or Ernesto would be so royally offended. Honestly, only a virgin could mistake a finger for his cock. He was much thicker than that, thank you so very much.
“Sí. Don’t worry.”
“Easier said than done, there’s something in -” No no, John mustn't allow himself to go into details or he may very well faint from the shock of all this. Instead he lifted one shaky arm to clutch the dangling gold cross around his neck. “C-carry on. I should like to hurry this along.”
You really shouldn’t, Ernesto thought, unless you really want to explain to doctor Sanchéz how come you showed at his door with a torn-up asshole.
But saying any of that aloud would have probably made Padre Juan faint, so he bit his tongue and pushed in deeper instead - slowly, because damn was he tight. If he didn’t know better, he might have thought that he could lose a finger if he just clenched. His other hand kept rubbing the small of his back, trying to get him to loosen up.
“Hmmmph...,” Another humming, muffled, noise from John, his face reddening as he found himself sink further to his elbows when a sudden ripple ran up his body from something odd the finger had stroked. The string of a harp again - but someone had just taken their whole damn hand and twanged a large string roughly making the entire instrument shake. He didn’t dare speak, it chanced a weird sound leaping out, or even worse acknowledging that whatever was happening right now was not, as expected, hoped and planned, miserably painful.
Quite the contrary, it sent shivers of pleasure up his spine - something that was not at all lost to Ernesto, because the gringo was… definitely not as good an actor as himself. There was no way he was simply clenching his ass around the finger for a show.
“Surely it is ready,” Juan suddenly exclaimed, the words forced out from clenched teeth.
Ernesto frowned, more than slightly offended. His cock may be on the shorter side, all right, but it was thick, had the idiota not noticed that?
“I know what I’m doing,” he muttered, and hooked his finger, pressing down on a spot that, if he was not mistaken-- ah, yes, now that moan was music to his ears. The next moment there was a muffled wince, the gringo biting something to stifle the possibility of another one. Of course. He’d gathered that Americans hate kissing, making noise, and this was all that rolled into a convenience package.
John had never experienced anything like it, and from the strange jolt it sent to his own member, it was undeniably a sinful experience. It no longer hung anxiously between his legs but twitched upward, straight, a state he had awoken in horror many mornings to find it in - and thus then prayed away.
Good God, he could not pray now.
“Is- isn’t ready?” Even his voice had changed, lowering to a strange, husky, tone he’d never heard from himself before.
"You need to try and relax," Ernesto said, and suddenly shifted - from sitting behind him to kneeling, and reached between his thighs with his free hand, palming at his cock. To no surprise whatsoever, he found him hard. "You're being more impatient than I expected."
“I, I just- just want to be cured is all, t-that is my impatience and lack of virtue-” The combined hands were making John’s words slur. Even from the light brushes he could feel warmth, a callous texture - all these things seeming to hit several strings at once making whatever was happening in him even louder. “Por favor, I-- I just want to get on with it-- you needn’t-- needn’t caress me like this.”
Ah, right. Ernesto pulled back his hand, and hesitated a moment before sliding the finger out, nearly all the way, then back in - and once sure there was no pain, he pulled back some to press in another finger.
"You know, that's-- normal. As in, to be expected. You being hard." Who wouldn't want me? "I- have the same, uh, issue,” he added. Because damn he was hard, cock throbbing each time he allowed himself to pause and really look at the man before him, on his hands and knees, shift bunched up around his waist. He was no beauty but ah, he was soft - pudgy, more accurately - and smelled good, and he couldn't remember the last time a man had been so turned on by his touch alone.
“I understand basic human anatomy, and the sexual response in human beings.”
It was delightfully vindicating that Juan’s attempt at a sharp, snobbish remark came out in what sounded like a drunken man’s slur, barely stitching each word together. “If you have the- the correct issue then do what you must with your member.”
Ah, he certainly had a way to make this fun didn’t he? Ernesto might have rolled his eyes, if not for the fact he was so amusing to hear. He pushed in the entire second finger, slowly, and shifted to lean across his back, reaching around him to run a hand across his chest. His cock brushed against Juan's thigh, hot and hard, tip already wet enough to smear pre-come across his ridiculously white skin. He could feel the scars on his back too, rougher than the rest on him, against his chest.
"Soon," he murmured against his ear.
“Why the delay?” John mustered. That was it wasn’t it? The hot flesh against his leg. He couldn’t discern which emotion started a quiver in his thighs at the realization. “I am not afraid of pain, I welcome it, it will cure me.”
"And get you on the position of having to explain the médico how come you have a torn asshole." Ernesto's voice was a little dry now. "I told you, I know what I'm doing." He scissored his fingers briefly, nuzzling the nape of his neck. Up close he smelled ever nicer, enough to forget how annoying he was, of incense and old wood and anointing oils. The only out of place smell was of faint tobacco too, which he could only assume came from a parishioner. It was… a world away from everything the barracks had been.
And it seemed the scissoring quelled any further protest from John. His shoulder blades rose as his back curled higher, his body struggling to react to whatever new feeling was being rushed through up his spine in high violent waves now. Without much realization he sank further into the bed-gripping the pillow to bite and hide his feverish, heated, face. Against his palm, the crucifix nearly punctured the skin from his grip.
“I can’t-- por favor I can’t handle that, can-- can we get on with it?” It was an agonized groan a more experienced man would recognize as his own need for relief. In John’s case, it was his hope to replace this building sensation with something more muted.
It wasn't every day someone begged Ernesto to fuck him. As in, it had happened, but not as often as he felt it ought to have. All right, maybe it wasn't precisely the fuck he was begging for, but he could twist the truth a bit. The gringo wanted him to get on with it, and get on with it he would. So he lifted himself, pulled out his fingers, dribbled more oil on his erection, and gripped his hips.
For the second, and surely not the last time that night, John was heavily humbled. The instant he could feel Ernest’s member pressed against his body, well, he felt quite foolish for having assumed his finger before was it. It felt terribly large, like its girth would tear him apart, and to his dismay his attentive member seemed to hop in delight at the prospect despite his more logical fears. Disgusting he thought of himself, trying his best to think on a prayer for this situation but Latin was so muddled in his mind at the moment.
It took every ounce of Ernesto's willpower not to just shove himself in. He could have-- he asked for it-- but at the same time, he worried he might cause tearing that might require medical attention. That would be inconvenient, and besides… besides, he didn't want that. No such care was taken on the barracks, either, and Ernesto didn't wish this to feel anything like it did those nights, much like he never wanted to return there.
So, when he began prodding the entrance, he did so very, very slowly.
“D-deus meus, ex toto corde paenitet--” The whisper was a soft hissing sound from between Juan’s clenched teeth. Well people had called out to God before in bed with Ernesto but this was… new. Ernesto bit back a retort - “you can call me Ernesto” - before he gripped his hips a little tighter.
Christ, everything about that man was smooth and soft, and it was warm, and the temptation to sink in and take his pleasure was hard to resist. He honestly couldn’t recall this much time ever passing between getting in someone’s bed and actually getting his cock in. Yet, despite being painfully hard, he forced himself to go slowly. A long breath and slow, careful push - letting only the very tip slip inside. He tilted his hips in circular movements, to ease it in.
The Latin trailed off to soft wincing breaths. The discomfort was there now, just as John had wished for. He could ignore how his member still twitched with some unanswered want, so long as he focused on the tension in his rear - the stretching that felt impossible to accommodate, oh God what was happening. That is, until Ernesto’s slow movements seemed to give way to a pop of pressure, something settling inside forcing John’s head up with a sharp gasp.
“Is that-- have we… we done it?” Because there, I’m not enjoying it, experiment over, I’m cured.
Ernesto stilled, still gripping his hips, breathing fast. The air felt scorching hot, his skin covered in sweat. Only the head was in, and the pressure, squeezing , was almost too much. Christ he was tight. Tight enough to make him worry that maybe it would be too much-- he wasn’t ready-- he’d rip something, there would be blood, and he didn’t want there to be blood.
“Just got started, Juan.”
“You’re… you sound as though you’ve run a mile.” Now he was far too exasperated to snap ‘it’s John’, but in just enough of a state to recognize that. And recognize that seemed to be something his rebellious sex enjoyed.
Because you’re being such a damn tease would probably not be the correct answer to give, especially as Juan clearly did not mean to be one and likely would need to be explained what Ernesto meant by that, which might result in a heart attack he’d very much rather avoid. However convenient Juan’s sudden and entirely natural death would be to him, at the moment he’d try to keep himself safe without having to kill anybody else. Even the passing thought brought forth invasive images.
The memory of Alberto’s death - the unprotected back of his head, the gunshot and the spray of blood, the thump as the body fell on the sand beneath the beating sun and the terrified noise his horse had made - made it back in his mind for a brief moment, but Ernesto did his best to chase it away.
And there was no better distraction, he’d learned, than what he was currently in the process of doing. So he licked his lips and pulled back before he leaned in, tilting his hips, carefully pushing back in and then deeper, just another fraction.
“How… how much further?” Of course Juan would be this demanding in bed even without knowing what was even happening. Ernesto rolled his eyes.
“What, are you that eager?”
“I should like to cured, sí, I waited years for this.” Wait that came out wrong. “A cure, I mean, not-- I, ah-- just-- go on then.” Snapping back was difficult when his own breath felt like he was paying for it by the second.
Ah, Ernesto thought, fuck this guy. Literally - still giving him orders, even like this. Very well, he could follow orders; he’d been trained to do just that, after all, in the army. He wanted to be fucked, and so he would be.
Ernesto scowled and almost, almost shoved in. But… ah, this was still so different, no matter how infuriating the gringo still managed to get even with his face into the pillow and legs spread for him. He was softer - this was softer - and Ernesto found he couldn’t manage to be deliberately harsh. He paused a moment, pulled back, and then he did push back in… but slowly, to avoid tearing.
“Aren’t-- aren’t you moving terribly slow?” John muttered, oblivious of the great favor he was doing him.
Oh, for fuck’s sake . “Do you really want to explain doctor Sanchéz how come your asshole is torn and infection is setting in?” The noise of alarm Juan made almost compensated for how annoying he was being.
“I… no. I didn’t consider… c-carry on,” he managed.
Ah, he finally got it, the second or third time he said it. And it looked like he could no longer bring himself to lecture him about cursing, which was a nice plus. Now that was… better, Ernesto supposed. He dared push a little further, rotating his hips - listening closely for any sound of discomfort or pain. Because really, if he did make him bleed, then Juan may not be the only one to find himself having to answer uncomfortable questions.
Truth be told John was so used to treating any sort of pain or blood as a symptom of serving God in the best and most selfless way, he wouldn’t have recognized the issue initially. It was so personal - all his feelings were - Ernest would be the last to know, last he’d tell, if any of this affair caused him terrible pain, even if their bodies were conjoined.
Yet suddenly, when he was lost in his thoughts, there was no pain. There was that strange ripple of a feeling again from the way Ernest’s hips tilted to that… place in him. The side facing his stomach. That was more alarming than pain; John sucked in his breath and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping it would pass to the tight, sore, discomfort again.
Except it did not. It was tight, he was so full, but as Ernest leaned down across his back, pushed deeper, there was no pain.
“I… I believe you need to move faster,” he managed in a gasp.
“Stop telling me what to do,” Ernesto groaned against his ear, pushing a little deeper. A hand reached to stroke his chest, the other down his stomach, between his thighs, just brushing his cock.
“I- Yo-” John began in English and then slurred into Spanish, which deteriorated into a breathy syllable. The combination of sensations was making him light headed; he desperately searched in the back of his mind for pain, or even just discomfort, but didn't find any. This tingling was like someone was playing an instrument directly in his ear, drowning out all other sensation.
Another push, a groan - Christ that felt good, so tight around him, and Juan finally being quiet was one hell of a perk. And he took nearly all of him, ah, maybe he was ready. Another groan, and Ernesto rolled his hips, taking a hold of Juan’s cock to stroke it. Full mast, of course he is, who could possibly resist him?
John nearly suffocated himself burying his face in the pillow; the heat and sounds were threatening to spill out of his mouth if he didn’t remain muffled. He couldn’t understand how someone could remain conscious through this. What was happening inside him and across his member threatened to overtake him like the most instant and powerful wine. His own chest was heaving heavily as he’d noticed in Ernest’s breath. God he shouldn’t have lit that candle again, he could only imagine the miserable state his face would be if Ernest moved around him and saw it.
How could his cursed organ be so erect right now? Every part of this was humiliating - something must be wrong, he must not be doing it right. “A-are you sure, this is, right?” he had to press his words carefully, or else they would come out in gasps and groans.
All right, Ernesto thought, he’d had it with his constant questioning. Time to shut him up, he thought, and rocked against him, squeezing his cock at the same time - ah, the tip was already wet with precum from it. His other hand wandered up his chest, found a nipple, and pinched.
That did it, a groan slipped out of the gringo in an undeniable proof of Ernesto’s skill. Around his cock he could feel Juan’s body clench, pulse, build toward a peak. Not another word came out of his heavily accented Spanish questioning Ernesto’s efforts. And the only prayer he heard was ‘Oh God’ . Instead he could focus on just how satisfying it was to have finally found a way to shut him up.
Not that shutting him up was the only satisfying part. Because oh it felt good, how warm he was around him, beneath him - how good he smelled, too. Ernesto couldn’t get enough of that. He leaned across his back, letting go of his cock to run both hands across his chest. This… he wouldn’t be doing this in the barracks, because that was only about getting quick relief and anything too gentle would be an insult to the manhood of both men involved. It would have gotten him odd looks at best, a punch to the face at worst.
And none of the soldiers had felt that nice to the touch, either, all roughened skin and taut bodies, all of them with lice and reeking of sweat after a day marching under the sun. The gringo was soft, even the hair on his chest was so fine. Ernesto pressed further into him - Christ that felt good, pleasure beginning to pool in his loins - and nestled his face against the crook of Juan’s neck, breathing fast.
“Lie down,” he rasped, letting his weight push him down slowly. “On your stomach.”
To his absolute surprise, the man complied. No question, no fuss, just a tentative pause before reclining entirely. He was clearly waiting, hoping, this would be the change he was looking for. Ah, that was… better. Ernesto grinned a little, holding himself up on his arms. Juan’s skin was so flushed, he was almost a bright pink all over. “You took it all,” he rasped. “You sure you were a virgin?”
“O-of course,” Padre Juan sputtered indignantly. He seemed so mortally offended by the suggestion, it made Ernesto chuckle.
“Just kidding, just kidding.” He leaned down on him, breathing fast, face pressed against his neck, and began to slowly tilt his hips - gentle circular movements as opposed to proper thrusting, because oh he suspected he wouldn’t last long otherwise.
And neither would the gringo, apparently.
“P-pause-- por favor, wait--” Juan choked out suddenly, his entire form trembling beneath Ernesto’s weight. He had pulled his head and shoulders up as much as he could. Ernesto immediately stilled, waiting. Shit, had he been too careless-- was there tearing-- was he hurt?
For a few agonizing seconds Juan didn’t speak at all, then managed some anxious words. “So-something… something’s happening to me, I’m… I’m quivering, and-- and it feels like something is going t-to overtake me...”
Oh, Ernesto thought. He breathed out a sigh of relief. “It’s all right,” he muttered, and pushed himself up, still deep within him. He rested a hand over his shuddering back. “It’s all right.”
“I-...” John swallowed. He wanted words, an explanation, a discussion. But for once in his life, words failed him in every language he knew. Everything in his mind was cloudy; the only thing that was clear was how much his sex throbbed with a miserable coiled tension - and how Ernest’s pause made the tension nearly acute pain.
Right now the younger priest’s reassurance, something he would gauff at in other situations, was enough to sedate his worry. So with surrender, he gave a shaky nod, dropping his chin to the pillow once more. There was more panting, moans, little ‘ah, ah, ah’ leaving him with each puff of breath to be muffled into the pillow - all very, very satisfying.
“That’s it, relax,” Ernesto panted, and began rocking his hips again, slowly. It was almost a power trip getting him to listen like this. Because it was obvious when just those slight movements brought him to a surprised, harsh, climax - ass clenching his cock so divinely, a man who hadn’t yet learned how to suppress the symptoms of orgasms to keep face.
John had never experienced anything like it, all his nocturnal emissions had been just that. Unconscious, muted by sleep. Awake it felt like something had just swept over his entire body, then rushed out of him, spilling out all the anxiety, tensions, pain of the evening into a small puddle between his stomach and the mattress. It took him several delayed seconds of consciousness to recognize he’d slurred out some mixture of an English exclamation and the Lord’s name. He laid there shivering, lips flushed, wet, and the crucifix now pressed against his rushing heart. In all the confusion he had let go of it.
Well, that had been quick. Ernesto was rather flattered, but held back a remark and kept moving instead, so slowly, building up a slow, thorough pace. Juan was done, but he was not and ah, he-- deserved some release for a job well done, no? Yes, he decided, he did. He rested on John's back again, arms sneaking around him to pull him close, and kept going. It was-- heavenly, the heat and the tightness and the softness beneath him.
But with his returning clarity, came more remarks from what sounded like the closest to drunk he would ever hear Juan.
“I… have we done it… is it over?”
For a man who prided himself on manners, what an awful imposition during a sexual encounter. Ernesto rolled his eyes, and on a whim bit gently into his shoulder - not enough to leave a mark, no, not like back there. “No,” he panted, and tilted his hips a little harder. “Not yet.”
“Did… did you just bite me?!” The gringo managed to sound somewhat outraged despite how he was struggling to quell his pants. Baiting him to argue wasn’t going over very well, considering Ernesto no longer needed to be so cautious if he’d already gotten him off. Clearly the man wasn’t in pain anymore.
Well then, he could be… a tad more vigorous, no? Ernesto smiled against his skin and instead of replying, he pulled out some to thrust back in - a little harder.
John nearly bit his tongue. Sensation rocketed up his back, intoxicating, like a bullet. After that paroxysm his entire body had become so vulnerable, his mental wall to hate this lost underneath a sea of pleasant sensations swirling his words and thoughts at the moment. If he didn’t remain preoccupied with staying quiet he’d release some vulgar sound he’d heard in alleyways before.
That didn’t make any less obvious to Ernesto how he enjoyed though, especially from how his breaths hitched, back arched, thighs lifted, and ass pulsed for further stimulation against his cock. Now that was more than a little flattering, a sudden thought entering his mind - could he make him come again?
One way to find out. Ernesto drew back only a little, stilled - ah, was it just him or Juan had instinctively tried to lift his hips to keep him in - and he thrust in again, a sudden jolt of his hips, pushing him further into the mattress.
“Jesus H. Christ!” The words tumbled out of John’s mouth before he could stop them - and oh, the immediate regret. Taking the Lord’s name in vain was something he hadn’t done since he was a boy. The embarrassment didn’t have time to settle in, he was too lost in it, his body now in control and struggling to get closer, to get more from Ernest.
“Hmm? What was that?” Ernesto gasped out against his neck, moving again - sharper thrusts, deep, tilting his hips and searching for the right spot, the right angle. At that point, getting a moan out of him was a matter of pride.
“Nothing- uh- nada...” The gringo slurred back, shaking his head. Nice try. Another thrust, one deliberate into the spot he’d found with his fingers, and Juan threw back his head, making a noise through his clenched teeth like a man who had found the peace of divine ecstasy. There were no more complaints out of him. Only the subtle, trying to be discreet, movements of his body to let Ernesto thrust more smoothly.
And ah, he wasn’t the only one in bliss, not anymore. It felt good, everything felt good - the clean sheets and the quietness of the room only broken by their panting and the faint slap of flesh on flesh, how soft he was and how good he smelled and Ernesto tried to draw it out, moving his hips in deep, languid strokes. He was close - Christ so close - but he could hold back, he could make it last. The wooden frame creaked, so softly, and he could see the gringo’s fingers were coiled into his pillow so tight they turned red.
“Oh God,” What is happening. That was the only concise thought John could mange. Sin or cure was far from his mind right now. Moments of embarrassment would creep in, when he felt the sweat on his back, heard the soft clap of their bodies meeting, panting in his ear - but none of it made enough information in his mind to muster stopping. The only thing that jerked any awareness to his mind was when he felt Ernest’s arm slip under his thighs-and with shocking strength rip his hips up taunt to his groin. It knocked a gasp out of him. Since Ernest nearly strangled him for endangering that foolish townswoman, he had forgotten just how strong he was.
“ D-don’t yank me! ” But he said it in the midst of a moan-and in English at that, rendering it useless as an attempt to try and find some superiority. He looked and felt wild. Hair sticking to his face and out at every angle. Perspiration was coating his skin, making his nightgown stick against his flesh. Was this Hell? It felt too good to be Hell, even if it was hot enough.
A part of Ernesto’s brain wondered what the hell had he just said, but it was a really tiny part. The rest was much too taken with how good it felt, how open to him the gringo was now. He grasped his ass, spreading his cheeks to give himself better access-- deeper into that warmth that clenched around him -- and canted his hips, again and again, a barrage of sharp thrusts and mind-numbing pleasure, panting and gasping and refusing to slow down.
Christ to see Padre Juan like this - spread like this for him, moaning for him, moving against him - the haughtiness smacked out of him, the superior tone gone along with any intelligible words. Triumph could only be celebrated with a trophy, which came in the form of Juan’s shift. He was suddenly nearly tangling himself in it trying to pull it off - or just over his face.
Ernesto decided the former and assisted by pulling it forward and then tossing it off the bed before he could change his mind. Now he could watch his entire body go pink as he fucked him properly. He was so close but he could hold on, just a little more, just a little more...
His efforts were rewarded. Juan shuddered against him once more and let out half a harsh groan - ‘Oh God’ - before he buried his face in the pillow. This time he didn’t fight it and nearly trembled out of Ernesto’s grasp from the convulsions. But oh no, he would not let him go that easily, and kept his hips locked even as their position shifted to flat on the bed.
The sense of triumph rushed to his head, and Ernesto gave a sound that might have been a laugh if he weren’t so out of breath, so busy fucking him though his orgasm, chasing his own.
John’s mind was too blank to be ashamed-nothing existed anymore. With the whip there was only pain, a numbness of the mind, a quieting peace that let his body lead his soul a moment. This… was the opposite. Delicious, flowing, explosive, flashes in his mind that quieted every worry he’d ever had or would for that night.
“Ah-- fuck--” Ernesto moaned through his teeth. It was too much, the way he clenched around him, how he trembled, the sounds that left him - his thrusts became quicker, more erratic, pleasure coiling in his loins and it was only a matter of moments. He pressed in deep, dropped his head, and he came with a long groan.
It was the quietest the room had ever been with the two of them in it. Each were panting heavily, lost enough to not recognize they now laid atop each other without needing to. The act was done. Polite parting could happen. But it took at least a minute before John finally lifted his head.
“The...the candle’s too bright.”
His accent had never sounded thicker, but he was barely aware. All of his rational thoughts were buried under a layer of hazy ecstasy lingering like an inhaled high. It didn’t even occur to him that he should be horrified at the thought he had another man’s seed within him.
“Nhhh,” was the only response he got. Ernesto was panting on top of him, still in him, boneless and breathless and lost to the world. He couldn’t muster the strength or will to lift himself, let alone the breath to blow the candle. He just wrapped his arms around Juan, leaning his cheek on the back of his shoulder. “Close your eyes,” he finally mumbled.
In that moment it seemed like a perfectly rational thing to do. John’s body was so light and heavy at once. His anxieties were lost on the ceiling, expelled with the rest of his wit from that second spending. They’d be saying they need to wash, they need to pray, they need to absolve each other, and why was he clinging to him?
But they weren’t there. Instead the only voice in him decided that closing his very heavy eyelids from the invasive light would add to all the pleasant feelings he felt right now. And that Ernest’s presence was a comfort because, something told him in the back of his mind, these sensations could be so very bad if he was experiencing them by his own self.
Ernesto felt him relax, and it was… odd, but not unwelcome. No need to get up quickly and mutter nonsense in Latin: he could keep leaning on him, bask in the sensation - oh so soft - for a while longer. Ernesto nuzzled the crook of his neck, already half-asleep and still dizzy with pleasure, and shut his eyes as well, breathing slowly in his scent.
A few minutes more, neither could argue another few minutes like this could cause any harm. After all the desert is cold at night. That was why they pulled the blanket up, it was just a subconscious need, not an invitation for Ernesto to stay all night. But a few minutes became ten, and washing seemed such a chore right now when it was so cold. The walk back to Ernesto’s room seemed so far, when it was so cold. Without a word to each other they finally agreed wordlessly - a feat only possible without clear-headed sobriety, it seemed - that falling asleep was just the more logical opinion.
And while he would deny it later on, claiming he’d only chosen not to move in order not to disturb John’s sleep, Ernesto was the first one to let sleep claim in: he closed his eyes and let himself fall into a slumber, lulled by the warmth of a body beneath his own and a steady heartbeat beneath his ear.
Both were in the deepest sleep they’d had in years, fucked to exhaustion, when the candle finally extinguished on its own, melted down to the hilt.
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Just Us Two- Chapter 1
Ta-dah, it’s here! The sequel to my InuKag High School AU, Only You!
Now, I won’t lie, this might not get updated as often, but I hope you’ll continue to enjoy it!
Next
WARNING: This contains spoilers for Only You, so if you haven’t read that, first, you might want to do that.
Tagging: @cstorm86 @keichanz @zelink-inukag @keepyoursmilesup @myverysweetescape @xxaries-witch-postsxx @ashcanvas @realinugirl @meggz0rz @desiree239 @inuyashaeienni
Anybody who wants to be tagged (or doesn’t want to be) let me know!
Enjoy!
Ch. 1- The Summer
Monday, June 9th. 11:55 AM. The air was getting warmer as the days went by. Where there were once flower petals raining down from the trees, there were now bright sunny rays and the sound of cicadas buzzing. All these changes meant only one thing: summer would be coming soon. At Shikon High School, the air was abuzz with chatter. The students, both human and demon alike, were all heading out to the cafeteria for lunch period. As they did, they all talked about one thing and one thing only: their plans for summer vacation. For instance, some girls sat at a table in the corner, chatting amongst themselves as typical girl cliques do. "So what are you doing for the summer, Naomi?" "Hmm...dunno. I'll probably go see my grandparents for a few weeks. What are you doing?" "Probably just stay home and eat junk food." The girls all laughed while nearby, a group of boys also chatted about their plans. "What are you doing for summer break, Tatsuki?" "I think I'll finally ask Mizune if she'll go out with me." "Mizune? The snake demon girl you've been crushing on for the past few weeks?" "Yeah. I figured it was about time, you know?" "I don't blame ya. She is pretty hot!" As the students talked and gossiped, there was one particular student who was heading up the stairs to the roof, holding a bundle in her hands. She had a look of excitement on her face and she couldn't stop the giggling that was bubbling up inside her chest. A warm blush was painted on her cheeks as she carried the bundle up the stairs. Her raven hair was tied up in a ponytail as a measure to keep off the summer heat. Kagome Higurashi, a second-year student with spiritual powers, was going to give her boyfriend a homemade lunch she made. In the past, she didn't think she'd ever do something like this: cooking homemade meals for someone she cared for. Now that she was actually dating someone for real instead of just sleeping around with guys, she couldn't contain her giddiness. She could imagine the look on his face, now, the moment he took that first bite. She honestly felt like they were already married, even though they were still in high school. As Kagome headed up the stairs, her phone buzzed, causing her to pull it out of her pocket.
NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM INUYASHA:
"Hey, where R U? I'm starving."
Kagome giggled as she began to text back. KAGOME:
"I'll be there soon." ^^
INUYASHA:
"I hope so. My stomach's about to eat itself."
Kagome giggled again. "Oh, Inuyasha..." She then headed up the stairs, passing several students on the way there, particularly of the male variety. "Hey...isn't that Kamakiri Kagome?" "I heard they don't call her that, anymore...not since she and Inuyasha Taisho started going out about a couple of months back." "Are you serious? Aww, man...I thought I could get a chance to score!" "Dude, don't let Taisho hear you say that!" "Are you kidding?! I wouldn't say it to his face! You know what he'd do to me?!" Kagome sighed and rolled her eyes. It seems that despite how much things have changed, part of her reputation still followed her. Despite that, she smiled. She wasn't going to let that bother her. Not today. She was going to be spending a much-needed break with her beloved boyfriend. Soon, Kagome opened the door to the school roof, where she was soon greeted by three familiar faces. First was Sango Tachibana, a third-year sophomore that was skilled in martial arts and Kagome's best friend since childhood. Because of Sango's fierce and protective attitude, some people often called her Kagome's bodyguard. Her younger brother, Kohaku, had been injured from a hit-and-run earlier this spring, but thankfully, he survived the incident and was now in his third year of middle school. Then there was Miroku Tatsuya, also a third-year student. He was a Buddhist priest-in-training who had a bit of a reputation amongst the female student body as a ladies' man. Even though he and Sango were dating now, it seemed that old habits died hard with him. To this day, Sango still doesn't know why or how she fell him, but here she was. "Hey, Kagome!" Sango exclaimed. "How's it going?" Miroku asked with his arm draped around Sango's shoulders. "Pretty good," Kagome answered. "Where's Inuyasha?" "Hey, baby girl." Kagome turned and smiled fondly at the one who spoke: her half-demon boyfriend, Inuyasha Taisho. Inuyasha was in his third year of high school, now. A half-demon born of a human mother and a dog demon father, Inuyasha had quite the reputation at the school for being a juvenile delinquent. He often had a nasty temper and got into fights with anyone who so much as even looked at him funny...at least, that's what people believed. Really, Inuyasha was a big marshmallow at heart with an affinity for small and cute animals. He actually adopted a stray kitten a few months back that he had affectionately named Miyuki. "Hey, boo," Kagome said as she walked up to Inuyasha and stood on the very tips of her toes, kissing him on his lips while Miroku and Sango smiled at them. It was hard to believe that just about three months ago, in the middle of spring, that Inuyasha nearly killed Kagome when they first met. It all started way back in March. Inuyasha had been asked by Miroku to help him recover a confiscated DVD (Sexy-Ninja-Something-Or-Other, Inuyasha couldn't quite remember the name) during the night, sometime after curfew. During that time, Kagome came outside after being bullied by a bratty girl and her clique. Back then, Kagome had a bit of a foul reputation for sleeping around with guys and...well, the bullying got to be so bad for her, that she felt like she wanted to die. That night, Inuyasha nearly granted her wish, but he struggled with his inner demon. Not wanting to bring harm to an innocent human girl, Inuyasha let Kagome go, thinking that he'd probably never run into her again...but it seemed that fate had other ideas. The day after that, Inuyasha ran into Kagome at the school garden, wanting to get flowers for his mom since her birthday was coming, soon. Imagine Inuyasha's surprise when Kagome's idea of a reward was to strip down to her underwear and prepare to have sex with him. Needless to say, the half-demon was definitely appalled by this sudden turn of events and ran out. Upon hearing of Kagome's reputation, however, he suddenly felt the urge to see her more often. Days passed and before too long, Inuyasha found himself deeply in love with Kagome, who began to reciprocate those feelings...even after Inuyasha's ex-girlfriend, Kikyo, came back to town, and Kagome was kidnapped by the deranged half-demon student, Izumo. Since then, Inuyasha and Kagome officially became a couple. "I brought you something," Kagome said as she held up the bundle, which she opened to reveal two lunchboxes. "One for me and one for you!" "You made me one?" Inuyasha asked as he took one of the bento boxes. "Just to show you that I love you," Kagome said. Inuyasha smirked at her before he opened up the box, revealing an assortment of food such as chicken karaage, tamagoyaki (a little bit blackened in some parts), sweet potatoes, octopus weiners, rice balls, and fried pork cutlets. "Wow, you made all this?" Inuyasha asked. "I had a little help from my Mom," Kagome admitted. "I just thought that maybe you could use a change from eating instant ramen, every day." Inuyasha shrugged. He didn't really have a problem with eating his daily cup of instant ramen...but then again, even that could get boring, now and then. Besides, Kagome did go through all this trouble of fixing this lunch box for him. The least he could do was at least try a bite. So, he sat down, took a pair of chopsticks and took a bite out of the tamagoyaki first...and the moment he did, all of a sudden, he found himself shoveling every morsel he could into his mouth while Kagome sat down beside him, giggling at his ravenous appetite. "I guess it's safe to say you like it, huh?" she asked. "Mm-hmm!" Inuyasha nodded. "How come you never eat my homecooked meals for you like that?" Sango asked as she looked at Miroku, who gulped. "Uhh...well...about that," Miroku said, nervously. "Y-you see, the thing is...I, err..." "Well? What are you trying to say?" Sango inquired. "That I'm a terrible cook?" Inuyasha snorted while Kagome glanced off to the side, an embarrassed blush forming on her face. "Kagome, you don't think my cooking is terrible, do you?" Sango asked. "...Well..." Kagome muttered. "Umm..." 'I can't just tell her that the last time I ate something she made, I ended up in the bathroom for almost 6 hours...!' XXX
12:12 PM. Empty trays and bento boxes were the only sign of a finished meal. The two couples remained on the roof, staring up at the sky. Miroku leaned against the wall with Sango, his arms still wrapped around her shoulders while Inuyasha lied on his back with his arms behind his head and Kagome lied with her head on his stomach, her hands folded over her own abdominal area. There were so few clouds these days. Hardly provided any shade, but...they didn't mind. It was still beautiful to look at. "So, Inuyasha?" Kagome asked. "Yeah?" Inuyasha asked. "What are you doing for summer break?" Kagome inquired. "Oh...I dunno," Inuyasha replied. "My parents and I are probably gonna go to our summer house for a few weeks." "The one in Hokkaido, right?" asked Miroku. "That's the only one we have," Inuyasha answered. "You ought to know. You've been there." "Yeah, only once," Miroku pointed out. "What are you going to do, Kagome?" Sango asked. "Oh, I don't know," Kagome replied. "I'll probably just stay home for most of the summer. Maybe go to a festival later." "That sounds fun!" Sango added. "You know, my Dad got me a new kimono for summer! Maybe you and I could go, together!" "And don't forget me, right, love?" Miroku asked. "...You, I'm still skeptical about," Sango quipped, causing Miroku to drop his jaw while Inuyasha snickered. "She's got your number, Miroku," he said, causing his best friend to sneer at him. "Haha, very funny," Miroku said, sarcastically. "What are you doing for summer, Miroku?" asked Kagome. "Oh, you know," Miroku said. "This and that." "By which he means trying to pick up chicks," Inuyasha retorted, prompting Miroku to toss his empty milk carton at his forehead. "Ow!" "Oops! Did I do that?" Miroku asked, feigning innocence, causing Inuyasha to growl at him, but then Kagome gently reached up, took his left ear betwixt her thumb and index finger, and began to tenderly rub the fuzzy appendage, causing Inuyasha to sigh softly, a soft rumble reverberating in his chest, which made Kagome giggle at the feeling. "That better?" she asked. "Thanks, baby," Inuyasha said, locking his smoldering golden eyes with her chocolate brown orbs. Kagome sat up on her elbows before she crawled over to Inuyasha's face, prompting him to prop himself up, too, chuckling darkly as he gently cupped Kagome's face. "How'd you get to be so cute?" "It's a gift," Kagome shrugged...before she soon wrapped her lips around his, causing him to moan softly in her mouth as he pulled her close. Taking this as their cue to leave, Miroku and Sango glanced at each other before they smiled and promptly took the exit. Kagome moaned quietly, her hands gripping Inuyasha's shoulders while he let his hands roam down her back and her nice, slender curves, one hand slowly reaching under her skirt. That's when Kagome squeaked as she felt a set of claws slipping under her panties and squeezing her right butt cheek. Not long after, she pulled away, giving the half-demon a sultry grin. "Naughty doggy," she said. "I don't know any other way to be," Inuyasha smirked while Kagome lowered herself down, laying a trail of kisses down from his jaw to the base of his neck. "Ohhhh...ohh, yeah, right there, baby...!" Another giggle bubbled from Kagome's throat. "You like that, huh?" she asked. "What do you think?" Inuyasha inquired, his crooked grin widening, showing off a glinting fang that he knew Kagome hated because it turned her on so bad. "That's not fair," she said with a playful pout. "You know that I can't resist that." "I know, that's why I do it," Inuyasha replied before they started to kiss, again. "Mmm..." Kagome moaned as she momentarily pulled away squeezed her body up against his. "You know what'll be nice about summer break?" "What?" Inuyasha asked. "We could have more moments like this," Kagome answered as she rubbed her nose up against his. "You and me, alone...together..." "Yeah..." Inuyasha drawled as he brought her lips against his, his right hand gently brushing up into her hair. He pulled away again just to bury his nose in those luscious charcoal locks...to breathe in and drink her intoxicating scent of roses, mint tea, and vanilla. God, he just loved this smell... He loved her. Her body, her eyes, her smile, her personality, her scent...everything. How in the hell did he ever get so lucky?
Pretty hot, right? And we’re only gettin’ started!
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