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missjanjie · 3 years ago

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Better Than Revenge | Chapter 3

Title: Better Than Revenge Summary: Karma Inc.’s business structure is simple - clients hire them when they’ve been grievously wronged and they send one of their revenge mercenaries to right them. As painstaking as their efforts to remain ethical may be, that may be tested when former detective, Rosé, enlists the squad to pick up where she couldn’t on a much higher scale, with potentially greater consequences. Word Count: ~2.7k (this chapter) | ~8k (total) Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx), Jankie (Jackie Cox/Jan Sport), Halldoll (Nicky Doll/Jaida Essence Hall), Gimone (Gigi Goode/Symone), Gottlux (Gottmik/Olivia Lux) Rating: T

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Chapter Summary: Rosé learns Gigi, Symone, and Denali's revenge origin stories

Woodstock, IL — 2016

Gigi took a deep breath as she stared at herself in the mirror. She could do this, it was fine. Every time her suspicions or confusion would bubble up, she forced them back down. Hannah was nice, she was different from the other popular girls. She didn’t see the ‘weird art lesbian’ with the braces and thick-rimmed glasses, who rarely got pop culture references post-1989, at least, that’s how she made her feel.

“I’ll text you in the morning,” she assured her mother as she threw her bag over her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, I’m just hanging out with a friend.” She was out to her mom, of course, that was her biggest ally. But she wasn’t ready to tell her that the head cheerleader had taken an interest in her. Maybe when and if they became official. Until then, she shook off the last of her nerves and drove to her house, only pulled from her thoughts by the time she was sitting on Hannah’s bed.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Hannah cooed, batting her lashes and resting her hand on Gigi’s thigh.

If Gigi hadn’t been so blinded by her crush, she might’ve thought Hannah was laying it on a little thick, but she couldn’t act like she didn’t enjoy the attention. “Me too, a-about you, I mean. Sorry, I’m just nervous…”

“How come? I didn’t come on too strong over text, did I?”

“No, no I liked it, it’s just… I’m a virgin, like, I’ve only ever kissed before,” she confessed, her cheeks flushing rosy pink. She had talked a big game over text, but being faced with the chance of starting a physical relationship brought her back to reality.

Hannah pouted, rubbing Gigi’s thigh as she thought, letting her hand inch higher. “Well, you’ve got fantasies, don’t you? I know you’ve masturbated before. What do you think about while you touch yourself?”

Gigi hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. The other girl wasn’t wrong, she did know what she liked, could conjure up vivid imagery to get herself aroused, but she had never said any of it out loud. “I like powerful, confident women. I guess that’s something that drew me to you,” she started, “I wanna just… give up control, be dominated.”

“Really? Tell me more,” Hannah prompted, kissing along her neck and jaw and slowly tugging Gigi’s shirt off in an attempt to coax her to continue.

When Hannah didn’t seem deterred by her confession, Gigi started to relax. “It’s just, I don’t know, I always feel the need to be in control of my life and with sex, I just wanna let go and give up that power.”

“So like, what would you want someone to do to you?” she asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

She bit down on her lip. “Um… tie me up, spank me, choke me, and I know it’s kind of intense but maybe something like cnc or—” the incessant buzzing of her phone distracted her and, concerned it might be an urgent call or text from home, she took her phone out. “Sorry, one sec.”

It wasn’t from home, she had two missed calls from her best friend, Crystal, followed by several texts.

Crystal: GIGI STOP Crystal: SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Crystal: She’s broadcasting you on IG live! Crystal: We can see and hear everything…

Gigi’s face fell, her first instinct to pull her shirt back on. Then she slowly looked up and in front of her, that’s when she saw it, nestled between stuffed animals — Hannah’s phone with an instagram live going. She didn’t say anything, just ran out of the house as fast as her legs would take her and through her tears drove right to Crystal’s house. That was when the two of them formed their plot.

In and of itself, it was simple. Gigi waited one day until Hannah was away for a cheer competition and went to her house. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Mrs. Andrews, but I think I left some of my homework in Hannah’s room, she just said to let you know so I can run in and grab it.” Once inside, she found exactly what she was looking for, sliding Hannah’s diary into her backpack and went right back out.

“This feels very Mean Girls, I love it,” Crystal remarked as they taped page after page of the diary on lockers, walls, anywhere they could.

“Well, plan B was to go the Heathers route, so let’s just hope it works.”

And to say it worked was an understatement. As it turned out, Hannah had written things far more incriminating, and because it came from someone of her social ranking, it made everyone immediately lose interest in Gigi’s livestream scandal, and she graduated with the anonymity she needed for survival.

Present Day

“I’ll be honest with you,” Rosé remarked, “it’s kinda hard to picture you as an ugly duckling, especially the way you described it.” Gigi was too pretty, too perfect. Something didn’t add up.

Gigi got out her phone and scrolled through her photos until she found one from her senior year. “Believe it, doll,” she said as she held her phone up. She watched with an amused expression as Rosé looked from her phone, to her, and back with her eyes wide and mouth agape. “Braces off, lasik, learned a lot about how to dress while going to FIDM, which is where I met Symone, who helped fill in the blanks.”

“And made sure she got to do all them things she listed to that bitch without feeling ashamed about it,” Symone added with a smirk, draping her arm around Gigi and pulling her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Why don’t you tell her your story next, baby?” Gigi prompted.

Conway, AR — 2014

Symone watched her sister throw her bag over her shoulder and start to sneak out the window. “Look, I ain’t snitching or nothing, but I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

She and her sister, Lala, were close, sometimes referring to themselves as twins – they were only ten months apart, in the same grade at school. And until the summer after sophomore year, they had the same group of friends. But the crowd Lala ran with now just rubbed her the wrong way.

“You worry too much,” Lala brushed it off. “I’ll be fine, in bed by morning like nothing happened.”

But when Symone got a collect call two hours later, she found out things were far from fine. She drove down to the county jail as fast as she could without getting pulled over herself. Luckily bail was a mere fifty dollars, but once she got her sister back in the car, she looked at her incredulously. “What the fuck happened?”

“One of ‘em brought weed, another brought booze, but when the cops rolled up on us, they said it all was mine. And who was they gonna believe, me or three white kids?” Lala sniffled, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me,” she whispered.

“I don’t either,” Symone admitted quietly, frustrated at her inability to come up with an immediate solution. “But we’re gonna do our best to get you out of this, okay?”

The best they could do wasn’t easy. It involved a lot of legal maneuvering, meetings with one person in a suit after another. The end result wasn’t ideal, but it was far better than what could have been. Lala was fined three hundred dollars and put on thirty days of probation. In and of itself, it didn’t seem so bad, but the residual consequences took their toll.

“I lost my scholarship, ‘mone. That was my ticket into college,” Lala sighed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m getting off with a slap on the wrist, but I really ain’t thrilled about taking out student loans,” she sat down on the floor beside the bed, head leaning against it. “Or maybe I’ll start with community college, I dunno. It just fucking sucks that they all got off with warnings.”

Symone’s brows knitted together, her lips pressed into a fine line. “Don’t you worry baby,” she said after a moment, “they gon’ face consequences one way or another.”

It had taken most of spring break, but Symone finally had all of the pieces for her plan. “Not the most convoluted thing in the world, but it’ll get the job done,” she mused.

Lala looked at her sister, then at her desk and back. “Do I even wanna know where the hell you got coke from?”

“No, you do not.”

Getting the drugs was the hard part. Getting into school early to plant the drugs in the lockers of Lala’s former friends was far easier, as was leaving an ‘anonymous tip’ from a ‘concerned student’ on the principal’s desk.

“God, I wish I could’ve seen them get hauled off in cop cars,” Lala remarked as she and Symone drove home from school. The three students were quietly escorted out of class and arrested, the school wanting to bring as little attention as possible. “Shame that they rich daddies will still get them off lightly.”

Symone sighed and nodded. “Sure, but they’re still gonna get something, which is more than what they got when they threw you under the bus. Bet they’re gonna think twice before they let someone else take the fall for them.”

Her sister smiled softly and shook her head. “You really ain’t gotta do all that for me, you know?”

“I know,” she hummed, “not gonna stop me, though.”

Present Day

“Wow, that’s both selfless and hardcore,” Rosé remarked with an impressed nod. “Did she ever find out where you got the coke from?”

Symone laughed and shook her head. “Nah, that secret I’m taking to the grave.”

Rosé jokingly put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, fair enough,” she chuckled. After a moment, she turned her attention to Denali. “That just leaves you, princess,” she remarked, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “What’s your claim to infamy?”

Denali tossed her hair off her shoulder and grinned softly. “Who, me?” she cooed, fluttering her lashes. “Well, it is kind of an interesting story…”

Nicky rolled her eyes and tossed one of the couch pillows at her head. “Stop flirting and get on with it already.”

Fairbanks, AK — 2011

Denali groaned when the sound of loud footsteps racing up the stairs pulled her from her quasi-asleep state, then pulled a pillow over her head when the door swung open.

“What the hell are you still doing in bed when the qualifiers are in two hours?” her friend, Kahmora, asked with incredulous horror. She yanked the covers off of her, but stepped back in concern when she finally caught sight of Denali’s face. “Oh god, you look like shit.”

She frowned and rolled over to face away from her. “I feel like I died and was in the process of being reanimated, then killed again,” she lamented. “It’s probably food poisoning… or maybe swine flu came back, I dunno.”

“Did you eat anything unusual?”

Denali furrowed her brows as she wracked her brain. “I mean, Tara gave me those brownies and I had one, but when she said they were ‘special’, I just thought she meant they had weed in them, but that sure as hell isn’t it.” With as much energy as she could muster, she sat upright. “Oh my god, do you think she poisoned me?”

Kahmora arched her brow. “I think that’s a bit much, even for her. Do I think she put something like a laxative in there so it’d take you out long enough that you couldn’t beat her out in the international qualifiers? Yeah, probably. She’s a cunt.”

The skater scowled, her jaw clenched. “She’s a dead cunt,” she corrected, then suddenly shot out of bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered as she raced to the bathroom yet again.

There wasn’t an obvious revenge plan for Denali. She knew that nothing she did would get her spot in the competition, and she wondered if it was even worth it. But her pettiness and spite won out and she began planning out her course of action.

“Remember,” she was saying, “if all else fails, we go the Tonya Harding route.”

Kahmora sighed. “For the last time, you are not whacking Tara’s kneecaps, now let’s go.” Despite some pouting from Denali, they went to get the gears turning in their plan. They got to the ice rink and slipped into the locker room without being noticed by Tara, who was in the middle of practice.

Denali picked the lock and took out Tara’s change of clothes. Then she reached into her own bag and pulled on latex gloves and a plastic bag containing several leaves of poison ivy. She turned the shirt, pants, and socks inside out and firmly rubbed the leaves against the fabric, making sure she left as little fabric uncovered as possible. “She’s lucky I’m merciful or I’d rub it on her panties too,” she remarked offhandedly.

Kahmora tilted her head as she watched her. “Do you actually think it’ll take her out of the competition?” she asked as her friend put the leaves and gloves into the ziploc bag.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s possible, probable really, that the constant itching might make it too difficult for her to skate. But this is more about getting even with her. I might not ever get another chance to compete for internationals. She’s lucky the only retribution she’s getting is a few weeks of itchy blisters.”

“Otherwise you’d Tonya Harding her?”

Denali nodded brightly. “Exactly! Now come on, we have to get rid of the evidence.” And with that, they scurried out of the locker room as inconspicuously as they’d entered it and threw out the evidence in a trash can several blocks over.

When the news broke that Tara had withdrawn from the competition due to ‘unexpected physical problems’, Denali did her best to feign shock and didn’t celebrate until she and Kahmora were alone.

“So, what do you wanna do now?” Kahmora asked.

Denali tilted her head in thought, then smirked. “Let’s go get brownies.”

Present Day

“Personally, I still think you should’ve busted her knees,” Mik mused offhandedly. “Like, I bet you would’ve figured out a way to get away with it, you conniving bitch,” he teased.

Denali shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s not very original and it’d look a lot more suspicious on my end.”

“I think it was pretty badass,” Rosé offered, making the other woman smile which, in turn, made her heart flutter — something she chose to actively ignore. Instead, she let all of their stories sink in. None of their reasons for revenge were out of line, none of their victims undeserving. And none of the consequences were as severe as some of the things she had seen in her time. “You all really know what you’re doing, huh?”

“We wouldn’t have been able to keep this up for three years if we didn’t,” Jan replied. “We had all of the potential on our own, but we make a difference together, and then we added Jackie to tie up the loose ends. It’s been smooth sailing from there.”

“Yeah, and now Jackie ties you up instead,” Nicky teased, earning an eye roll in response.

Rosé watched the group interact with a fond smile. She had assumed they all got along to be working together for as long as they have been, but she hadn’t anticipated them truly behaving like a family. It was a stark contrast to the constant coldness and curtness she had grown accustomed to, both in her previous career and in the environment she grew up in. She only hoped it would make the tasks ahead that much easier for them.

#gimone #rosnali #rpdr rpf #i promise everything else will be present day unless its something important lol

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cavalierious-whim · 3 years ago

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Sylvain's wholly unprepared for Felix to ask him to slather sunscreen upon his pasty (well-defined) back.

Happy Sylvix Summer. Take my dumb beach fluff rife with Teen-aged Tropey Rom-Com bullshit. Read here on AO3 for better quality, and follow me here on Twitter!

Despite his long-harbored crush, Sylvain never thought much of a half-naked Felix until one fateful beach trip.

They’re past their high-school years and well into college. Young enough to not be tied down by relationships. That’d be boring to Sylvain, who has a new flavor every week and happily so.

Mostly because it’s easier to be casual than commit to something that’d mean more.

Felix is just an old friend, he tells himself. A second glance, really. Okay, well, maybe not second-- that’s a cruel thing to say. Sylvain would give his left arm for the guy, literally, but he’s never really considered the why behind the thought until then.

And sure, he’s always liked him, even if Sylvain’s never thought much about it. Felix is kinda cute in a deranged cat sort of way.

But now, it makes a lot of sense. Stares him right in the face, a visage of gleaming pasty white skin and deceptively toned muscles. Sylvain’s just fucking blind and stupid, and now it can’t be unseen.

Felix is no longer a scrawny and gangly thing; now he sports lithe and supple muscle. Defined shoulders and a slim waist that tapers into what’s probably the finest ass Sylvain’s ever seen. Pert and shapely, perfect in every way.

Sylvain stares long enough for his ice cream cone to melt all over his hand.

“I’d tell you to take a picture,” says Ingrid, her laugh pealing through the air from behind her hand. “But that’d only piss him off.”

“Ingrid,” says Sylvain panicked. He shakes the melted, sticky mess from his hand as he continues to gawk. At least they’re in the shade under his umbrella, so it’s only a minor mess. “When on earth did that happen?”

Ingrid raises an eyebrow. “When did what happen?”

Sylvain groans. Of course, she’d make him say it. Ingrid’s the worst (or the best) when it comes to forcing others to make fools of themselves. She’s already adopted a devilish smirk, waiting for Sylvain to dig himself a hole deep in the beach sand.

A grave might be more fitting, considering what Felix would do to him if he ever caught Sylvain staring.

“I mean, what’d you expect?” asks Ingrid, sparing Sylvain from further embarrassment. For the moment. Sylvain knows better than to think that she’s done with him. Ingrid’s only biding her time. “When people play sports, they get ripped.” She points to Sylvain. “Look at you. Look at me.”

“I play baseball,” says Sylvain in a low hiss. “I can throw a pitch as fast as a car on the highway and sprint the length of an entire field. Fencing is barely a sport when compared.”

Ingrid just looks at him, her face flat and unimpressed as she sips at her drink and twirls the tiny decorative beach umbrella within it. “I dare you to tell him that.”

Sylvain flounders the tiniest bit. Absolutely not. He likes living far too much. Ever since Felix picked up a foil and learned how to bout, he’d been considerably more dangerous than the crybaby know-it-all they’d all grown up with.

“But, like… how?” says Sylvain as he wonders, persistent in his confusion as to when Felix suddenly became handsome. Like, model handsome. Like, Sylvain would take him around and then pound him into the sheets handsome.

Sylvain never thinks about sleeping with men. Except for Felix, but that’s something that he usually pushes to the back corner of his mind because it’s really fucking awkward to think that way about your bestie.

And Ingrid knows, she’s known for a stupidly long time because of one shitty night where he’d drunkenly blubbered his feelings out to her. In rare form, she didn’t laugh at him that night, she’d only combed her fingers through his hair and called him the world’s biggest idiot.

He’s good at that. Being dumb. Probably his best quality.

Sylvain can’t stop looking, his eyes grazing over Felix’s perfect form. My wet dreams are never going to be the same again, he thinks, his mouth going dry.

“Disgusting,” says Ingrid, making a face. She knows what Sylvain’s thinking, what he can’t help but agonize about. But then she waves her hand dismissively. “Also, he does squats from sun-up to sun-down. No wonder his ass looks so good.”

“Wait, are you looking?” asks Sylvain a little too quickly. Accusatory. He watches her through a shrewd gaze.

“Oh, Goddess, no. I’d rather choke.” She makes another face, this one cross-eyed as she cuts across her neck with a finger dramatically. “I’ve just been watching your sorry ass moon over him--”

“I’m not mooning--”

“Who’s mooning over what?”

Both Ingrid and Sylvain freeze at Felix’s voice. Then, Sylvain laughs, high-pitched and incredibly awkward.

“Nothing--”

“Sylvain and how he’s--”

Sylvain kicks her and Ingrid curses. Felix watches on, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sylvain’s rarely rude to Ingrid (okay, so that’s a lie; he’s rude to her constantly, but she’s Ingrid, and she deserves it every time), but he shoots her the meanest look that he can muster.

Which, admittedly, isn’t very threatening.

“Is there a reason you look like a fucking five-year-old trying to threaten a classmate who stole your juice box?”

Sylvain nearly congratulates Felix on his brilliant use of imagery. Instead, he starts with, “Felix--”

“Oh, don’t mind him,” cuts in Ingrid. “He’s just annoyed that I called him out on his bullshit.”

With that, Felix perks up because if there’s something that he loves more than anything else, it’s watching Sylvain getting dunked on. Which is more often than Sylvain likes to admit.

“So,” says Felix, “The usual.”

“Felix, why are you even here?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to be so biting, but it comes out sounding quite like Felix himself, an absolute feat.

“We’re at the beach, and together at that if I must remind you,” says Felix, cocking his head to the side. “The sun’s high and blazing, and I’m pasty as hell. Help me with this.”

A demand, not a request. So incredibly like Felix. Sylvain barely catches the bottle that is thrown at him. “Sunscreen,” he reads aloud rather dumbly.

“Yes, you dimwit,” says Felix. “Not everyone tans like you. Some of us come out looking like lobsters, and I don’t mean in a tasty kind of way.”

Sylvain disagrees. Felix looks the tastiest he’s ever seen, and Sylvain’s known him for nearly two decades.

“So what, like rub this all over you?”

Felix rolls his eyes, replying slowly like he’s speaking to a child. “Yes. My arms are short and you’re conveniently there. Even if I’m flexible--” Sylvain super doesn’t need to think about that, “--there are parts of my back that I can’t reach.”

Sylvain would rather burn in Ailell than do this because this is now his absolute worst fucking nightmare. A unique hell, tailored just for him. A test of the Goddess.

Or a memory he’ll wank to for months to come.

Definitely the latter, knowing Sylvain.

Ingrid, bless her shrew-like and ill-tempered soul, shoots Sylvain an amused glance. Soaks the entire thing up, her mouth tipped to the side as she delights in Sylvain’s discomfort. This kind of thing fuels her; juicy gossip feeds her for days and then some.

Especially when it comes to Sylvain.

“Ingrid, fuck off,” says Sylvain. Felix, who didn’t see her look, reaches out to swat Sylvain in return. “Ow!”

“You fuck off,” says Felix. “Stop being rude.”

“She’s the one--”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” says Ingrid abruptly, “Before this lover’s spat gets any worse--”

“This isn’t a spat--” starts Sylvain.

“Lover’s?” exclaimed Felix, pink in the face.

That catches Sylvain’s attention as he turns to him. What an odd reaction-- the embarrassment as he refuses to look either of them in the face. Sylvain’s mouth falls open in surprise and Ingrid’s clamps right up. Then, she smiles, the sly little grin that she gets when she’s up to no good. Never bodes well. Sylvain’s about to say something when she speaks.

“I’ll come and check on your boys later, yeah?” Oh, Ingrid’s up to no good, about to throw Sylvain to the sharks. Wholly intent of leaving him behind with Felix and his newfound discovery that his crush is probably more than a crush.

“Ingrid--” starts Sylvain, but before he can properly beg her, Ingrid’s gone, leaving behind nothing but a trail of footprints in the sand.

Felix plops onto the towel in front of Sylvain, his back facing him. Sylvain looks at the expanse of it, far broader than he remembers. He swallows thickly as his hand hovers awkwardly over Felix’s skin.

“Insufferable, that woman. What my brother sees in her I’ll never know.”

“Even people with terrible personalities have matches,” says Sylvain in humor. A decent attempt at distraction that usually works with others.

Felix grunts. “Yes, well, you’d know that best of all, wouldn’t you?”

Ouch, thinks Sylvain. Nasty little stinger right out of left-field but incredibly on-brand for Felix. His favorite thing to do is remind Sylvain about his habitually shitty dating habits.

“That’s a little cruel, don’t you think?” Sylvain uncaps the bottle of sunscreen and squirts a generous amount onto his palms.

“What, can’t handle the criticism?” Felix snorts. “Sylvain, you’ve slept with the entire volleyball team, minus Ingrid.”

“Have you seen them, though? Legs up to here, literally. Except for Ingrid of course, because that’d be so gross--”

“Ridiculous,” says Felix, snorting again. “Utterly predictable. And you wonder why you’re always dead last.”

Sylvain frowns at the strange wording. “I’m top of our class.”

Felix doesn’t immediately answer. “That isn’t what I mean,” he finally says, tilting his head back slightly to look at Sylvain. Then his expression hardens, turning aggressive again. “Are you going to lather me up or should I go ask Ingrid instead?”

“No,” says Sylvain, “Just… yeah, okay. I’ve got this.”

“Sylvain, it’s just sunscreen.” There’s a tiny frown on Felix’s face.

Sylvain’s a confident man, able to woo anyone into his bed. Rubbing sunscreen into Felix’s skin should be easy. It isn’t. Sylvain hesitates and hesitates, fingers hovering over the smooth line of Felix’s bare shoulders.

Nothing explains Sylvain’s sudden dry mouth or the inkling that this is a terrible idea.

“Sylvain,” says Felix, clearly waiting.

Felix’s skin is warm to the touch and soft under Sylvain’s calloused fingers. He starts at his shoulders, massaging the liquid in, squeezing at Felix’s tight muscles.

“Tense?” asks Sylvain, teasing him.

“Tired,” says Felix, sounding-- well, just that. Exhausted, even.

Sylvain’s hands pause as he leans forward slightly. “You train too much.”

“You don’t train enough. You could be on the national team if you gave a shit.”

Sylvain laughs and leans even closer, his mouth near Felix’s ear. “Yeah, well, that’s the difference between us. I don’t want to be on the national team.”

Felix harrumphs and crosses his arms over his chest. “That just makes you dumb, then.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Sylvain smooths his hands across the top of Felix’s shoulders, then sweeps them down and under his blades, thumbs digging into the meat of Felix’s back.

Felix lets out a low moan, a sinful-sounding thing that makes Sylvain bite at his lips and look to the sky. He’s never really prayed before, doesn’t believe in the Goddess, but he asks Seiros for strength.

“Shit, Sylvain,” says Felix with a sigh. “That’s--”

“Seriously, Felix, you’re all locked up.”

Felix whines when Sylvain raises his hand to press into the muscles at the base of his neck, his fingernails just barely scratching across Felix’s skin. “Sorry,” murmurs Felix, pink in the cheeks again, hands shifting awkwardly in his lap.

“You need to cool down properly after your sessions,” says Sylvain. “You’re working yourself too hard. Nothing but knots and bone back here.”

“Sunscreen,” says Felix suddenly.

“What?”

“The sunscreen. Your hands are dry.”

Right. The sunscreen. Sylvain isn’t supposed to be giving Felix a massage, he’s supposed to be oiling him up and readying him for the sun. He slicks his hands up again, murmurs an apology, and finds the lower part of Felix’s back this time.

“Sorry. Can’t have you burning to a crisp out there.”

Felix sighs at the touch, leaning into it slightly and Sylvain nearly dies on the spot. So, maybe he’s just now noticed how handsome Felix is, but it’s not exactly the first time Sylvain’s thought about him like this. Usually, when he does, he tucks it away deep-- not because it’s embarrassing, or Sylvain has reservations about men, but because Felix would slaughter him if he knew.

Sylvain lets out a long breath as he rubs the sunscreen into Felix’s skin, making sure not to miss any spots.

“What’s Ingrid doing?” asks Felix, nodding to where she stands fifty paces away in the sun.

Sylvain looks up, squinting at her. Ingrid flashes him a grin before pressing her thumb and forefinger together on one hand, and then taking her pointer finger with the other and--

“Is she--”

Ingrid makes the crudest gesture known to man, and then, wiggling her eyebrows, points directly to Felix, then Sylvain right after.

Sylvain’s going to kill her. Absolutely murder her in her sleep. He’s got a spare key to her place and he knows where she keeps the sharp knives. Glenn might forgive Sylvain for it if they properly explain. Even though Glenn’s nearly thirty, he still thinks it’s his job to protect Felix.

Especially from Ingrid’s never-ending teasing.

“She’s dead,” says Sylvain. “Next time I’m within a few feet of her.”

“Not if I kill her first,” says Felix.

Sylvain leans over Felix, shooting Ingrid the finger with both hands. She, naturally, shoots him one right back. “So fucking rude,” says Sylvain, leaning back again and slathering his hands with sunscreen once more. “And the things that she implies. Don’t listen to her.”

Strangely, Felix is quiet. Twiddles his thumbs in his lap. Sylvain watches him for a moment before resuming his requested task, catching the spots of his back that he’s missed.

“Would it be so bad?” asks Felix.

Sylvain’s hands pause. “What?”

“The idea of being with me. Is it such a terrible idea?”

Sylvain laughs because that’s what he does when faced with awkward questions. “Felix, we’re too old for gay jokes and Ingrid knows that. She’s just picking on us because it’s how she asserts dominance.”

Felix doesn’t even scoff which is a red flag, so Sylvain grasps him by the shoulders and looks at him from the side. “Hey, wait, are you worried about dating? I thought it wasn’t something you’re interested in?”

They’ve known each other since they were practically in diapers, so of course, they’ve talked about this: girls and dating. Well, more so Sylvain who always talked at Felix. Felix is relatively tight-lipped about it, even now, into their college years. Always says that he’s just not interested.

Never bothered Sylvain one bit.

“I mean, I know some cute girls--”

“Sylvain, I don’t want to date women.”

Oh. Oh. Sylvain’s mouth shuts tight as he absorbs this information. This puts a lot of things into perspective; Felix’s disinterest in women and how he’d roll his eyes whenever Sylvain would talk about them. His lack of celebrity crushes and such. Felix has just never said it so bluntly.

“Felix, it’s totally cool if you’re gay. I know some cute guys--”

Felix lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing at his face. “Sylvain, I’m not-- that’s not-- That’s not it.”

“Felix, you have to throw me a bone here, what on earth are you talking about--”

“I like you, you absolute imbecile,” says Felix very suddenly. And loudly. Entirely red-faced with embarrassment as he digs a hand into the sand beside him. “And Ingrid’s known for years because Glenn fucking told her, and that’s why she’s been so incredibly insufferable this entire time--”

Sylvain bursts into laughter, which in retrospect, probably wasn’t the best reaction. “Wait, no, no, that’s not why I’m laughing,” he says when Felix starts to pull away. Felix pauses, looking at him with barely contained aggravation.

“This isn’t funny, Sylvain,” he says quietly.

“Ingrid’s making fun of both of us, so yeah, it kind of is.”

Felix blinks very slowly, his face contorting into supreme confusion.

Sylvain sighs, rubbing at his chin awkwardly. “So look, here’s the thing. The shitty dating’s always been to fill a void because I’ve always been afraid to like, date someone properly. No commitment is so much easier than actual commitment and--”

“Sylvain, what on earth are you blabbering about?” cuts in Felix impatiently.

“I like you too?” Sylvain doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding like a question, so he clears his throat and tries again. “What I mean to say is, I’ve always liked you, I guess, but I’ve never really noticed you and--”

When Felix laughs, it’s always a bitter-sounding thing which is why Sylvain never wants to hear it. Means he’s about to lose his shit. This time though, he’s chuckling softly, rubbing at his face tiredly. “Let me guess,” he says quietly, “Ingrid knows.”

Sylvain swallows thickly, sitting there awkwardly with sunscreen-covered hands. “She, uh, might.”

“So, I didn’t have to resort to this, then.”

Sylvain shoots him a confused look. “Resort to what?”

Felix sighs, pink-cheeked with embarrassment again. “Parading around without a shirt on. The whole sunscreen thing. Ingrid’s blasted idea, of course, and now I see why. Glenn agreed, saying you’re the type to be visually stimulated but because I didn’t think that you liked me--”

“Wait, wait, back up,” says Sylvain, trying to process everything that Felix is trying to say. “What do you mean Ingrid’s idea?”

Felix finally looks at Sylvain’s face, annoyed with the entire situation. “She was tired of me not saying anything and told me to do something about it. I said it wouldn’t matter, that you didn’t like me but--” He pauses and waves vaguely between them.

“She’s known that I’ve liked you for years,” finishes Sylvain quietly. “Oh, Goddess, I’m going to kill her.”

“Please don’t,” says Felix. “Because then Glenn would kill you and that would mean I’ve made an utter fool of myself for nothing.”

Sylvain looks at the sunscreen again. “Felix, I hope you realize, rubbing you down in this nearly ended me. Like, I won’t be able to move from this towel for at least ten minutes.”

At that, Felix smirks slightly, his mouth tipped up at one corner. “Well, I’m sure there are spots that you’ve missed.”

Sylvain groans at the idea.

“I’m joking,” says Felix quietly, reaching out to touch Sylvain’s shoulder, thumbing over it with uncertainty. “So what--”

“I mean, the answer’s yes, obviously.” Felix looks at him, his face carefully schooled into something bland. Obviously trying not to get his hopes up, so Sylvain continues. “I mean, I didn’t collapse onto Ingrid’s bathroom floor one night, wasted to only say no--”

“You what?”

“Okay, so forget about that--”

“So you were truly serious about liking me?” asks Felix, his voice cracking slightly.

Sylvain’s expression softens. “I mean, it’s never been so clear until today but--”

“Why today, of all days?”

Sylvain’s done a fantastic job of looking at only Felix’s face so far so he finally looks down, eyes sweeping over his chest. Sylvain swallows thickly. “I mean, look at you, you’re--”

“Save it for the women who warm your bed,” says Felix acerbically. He moves to get up properly and Sylvain reaches out to grab his wrist.

“Felix, wait, don’t do that.” Felix does. Waits for him to say his piece. “I’ve always liked you, but it never really clicked that you’re-- uh-- look, there’s no delicate way to say it, so I just will. You’re gorgeous. Handsome. I can’t stop looking at you because you make me feel things, and that’s something that’s just... Ingrid told me to take a fucking picture, Felix.”

Felix snorts at that, hiding a smile behind his hand. Then he plops back down to the sand.

“You realize that I expect to be more than a bed warmer,” says Felix finally, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’d never ask that of you,” says Sylvain, seriously. “Unless you wanted to, because trust me, I’m certainly not opposed--”

Felix reaches forward with lightning-fast speed, pulls open Sylvain’s swim trunks, and dumps a handful of sand directly into them. Sylvain looks down dumbly. Dreads the inevitable itchiness that comes with getting sand in the bits where you don’t want it.

“Okay, yeah, I deserved that.”

Felix hesitates and then says, “Insufferable.”

“Yeah,” says Sylvain in agreement.

“It’s part of your charm.”

Sylvain grins at him. “Oh, my charm? Does that mean that I won you over with my bewitching demeanor?”

Felix’s expression sours the slightest bit. “Don’t push it.”

It falls quiet between them, as they sit on the towel underneath Sylvain’s umbrella, but it’s a comfortable silence. Sylvain rubs the leftover sunscreen into his own shoulders as Felix tries not to stare in return.

“So,” says Sylvain finally. “Dinner on the pier maybe? Without Ingrid and Glenn, I mean.”

“Yes, nothing says fantastic first date like shoveling buttered crawfish into your mouth like a slob.” But Felix’s face is soft and fond when he looks at Sylvain, and Sylvain knows that it’s a date sealed for later that night.

Things are going to be weird, supposes Sylvain, but there are worse things. At least they’ll be figuring it out together.

“Who gets first dibs on dunking ice-cold seawater all over Ingrid?” asks Sylvain.

“I think that I can get Glenn to distract her long enough for you to fill the pail. Or, we can tag team her-- grab her and throw her in the ocean itself.”

That’s a better idea and Sylvain says as such, much to Felix’s entertainment. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” continues Sylvain. “We do owe her some credit.”

Felix snorts. “Are you going to give her the satisfaction of it?”

They both look at each other, then Sylvain says, “Absolutely not.” He pauses, reaching out to Felix, wanting to grab his hand and hold it. But he hesitates.

Felix sees and watches silently. “We’re dumb,” he finally says. “It’s taken us so long. We’re nearly done with college.”

“Yeah, well, late-bloomers and all that.”

“Sylvain, you’re the opposite of a late-bloomer.”

“Not where it counts.”

Felix sighs softly and reaches out, taking Sylvain’s hand, linking their fingers together. He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t have to. He and Sylvain have always been like that; silent in most of their communication because they just read each other so well.

Except for when it comes to their wants, apparently.

Still, better late than never supposes Sylvain when he squeezes Felix’s hand back.

#sylvain/felix #felix/sylvain #felix x sylvain #fe3h fanfiction #sylvix #fe3h

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thatpinkbetch · 4 years ago

Text

Bkdk Fic Rec

I’ve been inspired to write a fic rec! This one goes out to you @lonely-rabbit

At like, the end of 2018 and the beginning of 2019 I stayed up until 4am every night reading fics, and because I’m such a loser, I made a word doc to keep track of all of them so I wouldn’t forget them.... I tried organizing it by length but it got messy cause I’m ridiculous and cluttered, so sorry! (I’ll save my own for the end alskdjflsdkfj gotta self promote you know). This is going to get...really long, so I’ll put it under a read more! Also, just a heads up, these are all on ao3, in case that’s important to anyone!

Disclaimer: Any fics with mature or explicit content I will add a bolded warning for, even if it’s only a little bit. Normally most fics will be tagged as such, but some fics that are rated as teen I’ve found to be more suggestive than some of those rated as mature, so I will try to point it out where it feels necessary, for anyone who wishes to avoid it.

Fics under 1k:

Illuminate by TheQueen (269 words)

Summary: Bakugou watches the first firework launch and fights to keep his face neutral

Very short, plot is about a case of amnesia, also very cute and well written for that length! Not angsty at all imo

sweaty hands holding secrets - shounentwink (563 words)

Summary: Someone said Midoriya holds secrets in his hair.

It’s not true: He holds it tightly in his hands. Bakugou’s seen it.

I really like this writer! You’ll see quite a bit of them in this post alkdsjfalskdjf

Fics 1k - 10k:

Many sunflowers later - Jeka (2395 words)

Summary: Scholar Midoriya Izuku comes back to the person he left behind after his journey through the kingdom, the mighty dragon clan leader Bakugou Katsuki.

Day 1 of Twin Stars Week 2020: Fantasy AU.

First of all, fantasy au!!! Second of all, jeka!!! (I need to read more of your stuff!!) Anyways, so cute, such lovely, pretty writing, wonderful story telling, and they’re so in love TT_TT

Boom Badoom Boom - warschach (3429 words)

Summary: Izuku's working the kissing booth at the school fair, it just so happens Katsuki has been crushing on him since the first grade.

“Did you—“ Izuku parted his mouth with no sound leaving it, “Did you pay?”

“Yea.”

“For a kiss?”

This one’s a little silly but I love it still. It’s got a “kids in the 80′s over summer vacation” vibe, I think. I love warschach! I should read more of their writing... They have SUCH good bakudeku content! *It’s rated teen but there’s some suggestive content, just a heads up!

Hopeless Ramen-tic - lalazee (7155 words)

Summary: Midoriya is a cute guy who works at a ramen stall and Bakugou is thirsty as hell, but has to hide it by being an asshat. Another love story.

Ah, so good TT_TT so much sass, such good plot development and story telling for a simple concept *It’s rated as teen but again, it can be suggestive at times!

I’ll share this with you, so leave it behind - yabakuboi (3508 words)

Suammry: For the sake of the story, All Might is never in need of a successor, and, when Izuku saves Katsuki from the sludge monster, encourages young Midoriya down a different path. Thus, Katsuki and Izuku part ways after junior high, as Katsuki enters U.A. and the Midoriyas move overseas. It’s later that Katsuki realizes that there’s something missing, that he drove that something away.

Years after, Katsuki finds him in the last place he looks, in the cereal aisle at the local grocery store of their childhood neighborhood.

So soft, so sweet, so good if you just want to curl up in a comfy blanket and drink hot cocoa and feel warm and cozy and a little in love

The Secret Deku Box - yabakuboi (2241 words)

Summary: “Y’know, Bakugou never, ever talks about girls,” Kaminari says, his voice thoughtful.

“And I wonder why that is.” Ashido rolls her eyes.

“I’m just curious!” Kaminari whines. Kirishima drags the box out, unlabeled and unassuming, the lid not even fully clasped over the edges. “The guy has to— Whoa, what’s that?”

Kirishima realizes a little belatedly that this is a serious breach of privacy, and Bakugou will actually murder all of them. “Nothing!” he cries, attempting to shove it back under the bed, but Ashido snatches it away.

“Please be his porn stash!” Kaminari whispers as she whips the lid off.

Cute, funny, in canon, in character, and a must read I would say!

daisy bunches and heather branches - halcyonwhispers (5862 words)

Summary: izuku falls in love with the foul-mouthed tattoo artist next door.

Not another flower/tattoo shop au.... aldskjflaskdjfd Okay but punk!Bakugou is ALWAYS a smart move imo

the best part of me (is the worst I can give) - halcyonwhispers (5668)

Summary: Whole sentences usually make up people’s Words, but Katsuki got stuck with a name instead.

Izuku’s name.

I am such a sucker for soulmate aus when it comes to these boys TT_TT *There is some mature content, just a heads up!

Hard to Say - halcyonwhispers (8390 words)

Summary: Izuku is a Halfling, born after his faerie father spirited away his mom and then left her behind. Never quite fitting in with the humans or any of the supernatural beings in his small town, Izuku hoped that going to a diverse college in the big city will help him finally make friends.

Katsuki’s family has been powerful witches for generations, and he’s no different. Talented and a proclaimed genius to boot, he knew he shouldn’t waste his time on this dumbass (disgustingly cute) half-blood.

Or,

two idiots fall in love and don’t get that the other’s awkward cues are just a result of romantic tension.

I am ALSO a sucker for fantasy/mythical creatures au and I LOVED this one - Bakugou absolutely unable to handle how cute Midoriya is? Perfection - but it’s unfinished, and I don’t think it ever will be continued, unfortunately TT_TT

lots to unpack (throw away the whole suitcase) - shounentwink (4315 words)

Summary: “How’d you know?” Midoriya asks.

There’s a hunch to his shoulders that wasn’t there three hours ago. Freckled shoulders are kissed sunburnt and red: he looks like someone ran him over and left him like roadkill in the sunlight. Bakugou’s working with insurance today, but he could see the sparks of green lightning even from his elevated position in their shared agency. Midoriya’s holding his thumb, cracking it over and over — it looks like he’s rubbed it raw.

“Dunno,” Bakugou says. “Maybe you’re just easy to read, nerd.”

I love this one so much, it was one of the first ones I read, it’s so good, and it’s another that really affected how I view their relationship! Idk this one just hit for me

hang the moon from us (it’s a no from me) - shounentwink (1200 words)

Summary: Midoriya’s gonna get sick of Bakugou one of these days, and then the whole ruse will be over, and the balance of power will tilt beyond salvation, but that day isn’t today and it looks like Bakugou knows it.

What an asshole.

Once again, I’m a sucker for the fantasy au... But even more, the diction, the details, the imagery...it’s absolutely all stunning here. I wish I could write this pretty

In Which Bakugou Finds His One Tru Luv - Erina (5862 words) This is the first one of a series called The Misadventures of Explodo-kill Agency!

Summary: Welcome to the Explodo-kill agency! We can destroy your buildings, crash your cars, and help you solve one of the seven mysteries in life: who is Bakugou Katsuki's mysterious boyfriend?!

I’ll admit I’ve only read the first three but by god they are the funniest fics I’ve ever read in my life. I see that Erina has added more since the last time I checked it out! Tbh I was only interested in reading the purely bakudeku ones... (My favorite was the second one!! SO funny and cute!)

i still do - raeryn (9646 words)

Summary: He’s losing him to pieces, but Izuku still tries to make them count. In which a battle leaves Bakugou Katsuki with amnesia, and Izuku finds himself picking up the pieces.

So, this one makes me cry. TT_TT

One Thing Straight - winningshot (9899 words)

Summary: They totally aren't.

Hints of their relationship is found in all of their friends’ social media accounts, but majority of their fans still think that Katsuki and Izuku are in relationships with anybody but each other.

It was amusing up until it became sad.

Lmao it’s a little salty but I guess I can be too. This is a social media fic! There’s multiple ships in this one, too

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8472 words)

Summary: Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

Okay kewltie is SO GOOD and very creative! The formatting is phenomenal, it’s like you’re actually experiencing a social media melt down in real time lol

be my good luck charm - writedeku (6785 words)

Summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest travelling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

Oh I adore this one! It’s so cute and such a good narrative! Nice and warm, and Bakugou trying his damnedest to be suave, and it somehow working because Midoriya is just as flustered. *Another one rated as teen but some suggestive content.

Smells Like Victory - majjale (2377 words)

Summary: Bakugou takes two steps into the room and stops, clapping a hand over his nose. “Ugh, what stinks like Deku in here?”

"Good afternoon, Bakugou. That would be the amortentia."

I must admit, not a fan of HP, but majjale...TT_TT majjale writes these two boys so well. This one is really, really good!

Cherish Me - Justaperson1718 (2376 words)

Summary: “What?”

Izuku looked back down at his menu and flipped the page, a small smile on his face. “Nothing.”

Katsuki glared at Izuku from across the table. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be staring at me.”

“It’s just a little funny watching you try to look your best for our date when you always look great anyway,” Izuku explained. He wouldn’t look up from his menu while he spoke, but his words remained ingrained with confidence nevertheless. He considered what he was saying to be fact, and nothing else. “Even when you’re not trying in front of the cameras, it’s still hard to take my eyes off of you.”

This is a sequel to a fic that’ll be in the next section, because it’s longer, called Manage Me. Please read that one first before this one! (Not part of a series, but they’re the same story line)

Fascinating - Justaperson1718 (1556 words)

Summary: “I’m not staring at you,” Izuku replied, his eyes focused intently on Katsuki. He’s still wearing his pajamas, sitting on his knees in their shared bed. He was awake moments before Katsuki, and waited eagerly for the other to awake.

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder after his shirt was on and glared. “You’re fucking staring at me right now.”

Izuku shook his head, humming his disapproval quietly. “I’m watching you.”

“That’s the same damn thing,” Katsuki said while searching for a pair of pants in the dresser. “Your eyes are fixated on me like I’m your life’s fucking goal or some shit.”

“I just like watching you get dressed.” Izuku tilted his head to the side and smiled softly at Katsuki’s confused stare. “I know, it’s weird. But I like it.”

*There is a little bit of implied mature content, but overall, it’s just so sweet and intimate, and I just simply adore this one.

in a place once filled with gold - dorenamryn (9226 words)

Summary: It felt strange to remember such details, for they were things a friend should know, and as far as Katsuki was concerned, he and Deku hadn’t been friends in a very, very long time. He could admit, with reluctance, that they were on the path there, now, even though they would never make it. Katsuki would die before they could get the chance.

or: There is a garden growing in Katsuki’s lungs, and he is helpless to stop it.

“Hanahaki disease” okay, I can explain myself. Okay, I can’t. In any case, you got angst with a happy ending if that’s what you’re into!

Kaleidoscope - DPRenFTW (5141 words)

Summary: Izuku is a witch. He just needs to find his familiar. Enter a boy that is a wolf, and a wolf that is a boy - with wild red eyes and sharp smiles.

And Izuku thinks:

"Oh, it's him."

Just as beautiful and fascinating as the name implies! I seriously recommend for the beautiful writing, the gorgeous world, the mythical creatures au, and the lovely bakudeku romance!

Learning Curve - sensiblysilly (4222 words)

Summary: Deku and Katsuki’s first kiss goes rather differently than planned.

And Katsuki’s quickly learning that relationships can be unpredictable - especially when taking into account the variable that is Midoriya Izuku.

This really is just a careful handling of a teenage romance where perhaps one of them may have shit they’re still working through. It’s really sweet, and a careful study at boundaries and the building of a relationship. I actually stumbled across this while looking for another with the same name and ended up pleasantly surprised. Kacchan can has a little validation, as a treat.

4/20 is a national holiday - Ereri_Garbage (

Summary: Izuku is a drug dealer that doesn't really accept the fact he's a drug dealer, Katsuki is hot as hell as shouldn't be allowed a facebook.

Happy (Late) birthday Katsuki and happy (late) 4/20. I actually half assed an edit on this one so it took longer to post than I thought it would.

Uummmm lmao yes I have a sense of humor. ;ALDSKJFLSKDJF Okay, I say that, but this is not a crack fic, it’s a good story that I enjoy with good writing, and *it has mature, content, obviously for multiple reasons here. It’s rated as mature but there are borderline explicit moments imo. It’s a fun fic and funny, too! And, ngl, it really does remind me of college... But forget about me, the bakudeku is wonderful too of course :)

Drinking Watermelon - warschach (8906 words)

Summary: For whatever reason, maybe divine fate, Izuku turned and looked over his shoulder and waved to them.

Katsuki’s heart full on stopped right then, and his fingers forgot their duty on the rails, and his body neglected its job to keep Katsuki balanced.

Izuku’s summer sweet smile fell into concern as Katsuki went airborne and cracked his skull on the porch.

or Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Love it when people have Bakugou as absolutely enamored with Midoriya; it’s so good and true. Anyways this one makes me like summer camp story lines. It’s funny and also cute and great writing! *It’s got explicit content, just a heads up. Warschach stories just have this youthful 80′s vibe, I don’t know how else to explain it.

there are listed buildings - semiautomatichearts (3309)

Summary: Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Ah...soulmates :) So interesting how bakudeku fits into soulmate aus like this one when they’ve known each other as kids! And when they’ve had this complex push and pull thing going on all their lives! The writing is beautiful, and so is the story!

Promise Ring - bkdkwritingsdump (3579)

Summary: The midwest in the 1950′s is no place for boys who like kissing boys: something Izuku and Katsuki know all too well growing up there. However, the undeniable bond between the nervous science geek and the aloof delinquent will still find a way to blossom in such a desert.

Cute, sweet, makes my gay heart ache. Longing not just for the one you love, but just to feel right loving them. Very pretty story line, lovely story telling!

Fics 10k - 30k:

Fishy - warschach (19417 words)

Summary: Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.

(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)

Another warschach! I love this one, I love how they write bakudeku, particularly as college students, their stories (at least, the ones that I’ve read) always feel so warm, like a summer’s day, but not a lazy one, one that’s playful? If that makes sense? *This one is explicit, another heads up!

Manage Me - Justaperson1718 (10756 words)

Summary: Izuku caught himself moving forward, his head tilted somewhat to the side, and his eyes shot wide open. His gaze met Katsuki’s half-lidded eyes now that he was no longer in a dreamlike state, and seeing the way Katsuki was looking at him—waiting for him—made him realize Katsuki would’ve let him do it. He might have even wanted him to do it.

“You’re both doing fabulous!” the photographer called out to them, packing his camera into his bag and getting ready to leave. “I just got word that what we have now should be good, so we’ll stop there. Thank you for your time! Lock the door on your way out after you change.”

The pair stayed frozen in place, with Izuku’s arms around Katsuki’s neck and Katsuki’s hands resting on Izuku’s waist, while the photographer and his supervisor left.

“Kacchan,” Izuku cooed once they were gone. “Did you want to…?”

Love the story, love the bakudeku! Very, very good bakudeku TT_TT very sweet *There is some mature content in here as well

point to a map (we’ve been there) - cosmicfuss (10589 words)

Summary: Serendipity / sĕr″ən-dĭp′ĭ-tē Serendipity is the occurrence of an unplanned fortunate discovery. Two men find themselves on a subway, hot coffee on one while the other is in the middle of a screaming match. After that they can't seem to stop finding each other, no matter how far they go.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this fic owns my entire soul. I love the story, the ease of their relationship, just how lovely they are together. It’s another kind of nice, fluffy fic you’d read on a bad day where you come home and curl up in a blanket and listen to a ten hour video of thunderstorm white noise. *Again, some more mature content in here

Partners - tsukithewolf (13619 words) Another series! Two parts to this one this time

Summary: It is said that in Musutafu there is a charm that one can buy at a temple that will lead you to your destined partner. They say that if the charm works, you would be able to follow the red string of fate to the person you were meant to be with. And if the person returns your feelings, they would be able to see the string as well, proving that both were meant to be.

Three-year-old Katsuki and Izuku misunderstand what the word "partner" means and discover the charm and the rumor behind it is not only true, but more than expected.

Gets a little heavy, depression, bullying, suicidal thoughts, etc. But it must get worse before it gets better, that kind of thing. I also just adore the second part (called Bond) - maybe because it’s much fluffier, what about it?

Learning Curve - iknewaman (10304 words)

Summary: “Izuku.” Uraraka repeats as she motions at the person stood next to her. Green curls, average height, and, well. Up close, not such a bad smile. Uraraka points a thumb at Bakugou and enunciates slowly, “This is Bakugou. He can speak sign language too.”

Wait. Sign language?

The stranger— well, Izuku— looks at him with a raised brow. Their free hand lifts up as they make a slight motion of the hand.‘

Really?’

Bored out of his mind at a house party one night Bakugou is introduced to Izuku, a deaf student who offers to help teach Bakugou sign language in exchange for a favour-- or well, is prompted into asking for a favour.

Ah, I really want to explain this one a little bit? I’d never been into fanfiction ever, only really getting into it with these boys. This was the second one I read, I remember, and it caught me off guard, and it intrigued me. It really surprised me as to what fanfiction could be. Ngl I had biased perceptions of fanfics - I used to be one of those people who thought fanfiction could never be good writing - and this one slapped me in the face with it’s subtle beauty and creative story and heart melting capabilities, and very, very real relationship and growth. Anyways it’s so cute how happy Deku is to teach Kacchan sign language TT_TT Make sure to read the tags!

The Keeper and the Sun God’s Heir - SurelyHeavenWaits (12746 words)

Summary: The Titans' have stolen something important from Izuku, heir of the Sun God, and he wants it back.

This one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one this one- Oh my god this one. Okay so what, I was a Percy Jackson kid, what about it? I love the mythical aus, particularly the god ones. But beyond that, the writing is so beautiful, just like the world, and the imagery. The bakudeku...absolutely stunning. The story itself? Incredible. Cannot recommend more. *There is explicit content in this, though I will say, it’s all in the last chapter, and all of the story is in the first two chapters. There’s also a second part as it’s a series and it’s short but it’s cute and sweet TT_TT

seven days - aaAAAaaahhhhHHHHH (10094 words)

Summary: There’s something about the green haired boy, an aura that just drew Katsuki in before he even knew his name.

[Sometimes your mind forgets, but your heart remembers]

Heed my warning: DON’T read this in front of other people. I bawl every time I read this one TT_TT I know I said I don’t like angst but AJLSKDFJALSKDFJ it has a hopeful ending! I mean yeah you’re gonna cry but...hope? :’) (that username really says it all tbh)

Fics 30k+

Notice me, nerd - useless_donut (40000 words)

Summary: Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out.

Will the class of 3-A survive the sexual tension? Who will snap first? Someone put Bakugou out of his misery, please, before everyone else dies of second-hand embarrassment.

(a love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A)

Love the idea of Bakugou being brazen and brash, cause yeah, he is. So fucking funny though how that translates to him flirting. Gotta say, thought I was gonna cringe, but his “I’m gay af” outfit really ended up being A Look. Love the mutual pining, it really is strong in this one. *Okay, mature content in this one lads.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71197 words)

Summary: The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

Update: Epilogue added

*This one has mature content. If you can, please, for the love of god, read this fic. It’s like, tied with my favorite bkdk fic perhaps ever. It’s based on the movie of the same title, a nineties romcom with Sandra Bullock, but Belkacaramelka has so effortlessly made it into it’s own story, fit it so perfectly inside of the bnha world. I definitely stayed up until 6:30am reading this one. It’s got such good badass Midoriya, who is also sweet, and really really good reconciliation between bakudeku.

All Gifted - fitzefitcher (39129 words)

Summary: The thing about gifts is that they're meant to be given, they're meant to be shared; so Izuku will take his gifts, so freely given to him, and share them with all he holds dear.

Izuku is born without any gifts, as his kind often are, to a witch mother and salamander father, on one sweltering night in July.

This one is unfinished...and I highly doubt it will ever be. But what has been written is incredible. Once again, I’m a sucker for the magic/mythical creatures aus. But the relationship is great! The characterization is great! The found family trope that was building up is great!

under a hollow sun - umbrage (40572 words)

Summary: Midoriya is cursed with emptiness.

Misfortune leads him to a man of ancient magic and endless rage.

To stop an unfathomable evil, their mismatched halves must become whole.

Uuuggghhhh this was so good! I don’t think it’s going to be finished either :( Once again, fantasy au, more amazing writing, on point characterization, incredible pacing, makes you hungry for more story.

all the savage soul requires - majjale (58032 words)

Summary: Bakugou seems to have exhausted his patience for words and no longer acknowledges that Midoriya exists, so Midoriya crosses his legs, stares down at his hands limned in firelight, and makes a list of things he knows.

One. His name is Midoriya Izuku.

Two. He is a Godmarked, future god of life, heir to the divine throne.

Three. The gods have been fighting Death for eons, and now he's coming for recompense with everything he’s got.

This is majjale, so of course, the writing is more than beautiful; it’s absolutely breathtaking. This may be my favorite fic ever - unfortunately I don’t think it will ever be finished either TT_TT There’s the gods/fantasy au, which you know by now I love. But the characterization of our two boys is absolutely perfect, and I mean that as literally as possible. And the story being crafted between the two, the memory loss, the obvious history muddled by it all, it was so dense, and the PINING, so incredibly written, flowing so naturally. It wasn’t even close to being done, but it was wonderful, still is wonderful.

My Writing: (You can skip this if you hate shameless self promotion)

You’re too damn flicking cute (1815 words)

Summary: Bakugou is certain his shitty boyfriend is instigating kisses. Maybe it doesn't help that he keeps giving them away like it's a damn going out of business sale, but the stupid nerd is too fucking cute. Either way, like everything else, this is a competition, and he's going to win it.

Please don’t read this unless you’re going to the dentist afterwards! I’ve been told it’s so sweet it’ll give you instant cavities >_>;;;;

Bakugou Katsuki, you smooth motherfucker (10118 words)

Summary: Everyone around him knows that Bakugou Katsuki has a very special way with words. To the untrained ear he is loud and crass; to those that speak Kacchan, he is caring and inspiring. Yet there are rare moments, moments so fleeting you blink and you miss them, where Bakugou’s words pierce straight through Midoriya’s chest, and surprise everyone around him.

Goddammit, if only he would say them to Midoriya’s face.

Or, the five times Bakugou said something nice about Midoriya, and the one time he said something kind to him (but that was too long of a title).

I think most would consider this my best published fic; it’s one of those snapshot fics, “the five times where x did this, and the one time where they didn’t.” The recurring comment I get on this one is both of them being super in character, so I think that’s it’s defining characteristic! Bakugou and Midoriya have never known a life without the other, and in a perfect world, they never will.

Here, let me fix that (11247 words)

Summary: Bakugou honestly never thought he’d see Deku ever again. And now that they were together in this tiny compartment, alone for the next two and a half minutes, he had no clue what to say. He’d just apologized, right? So perhaps he could leave it at that and carry on with the original plan to never see the green-haired man that reminded him of dense forests, late night adventures, and tear-stained faces, ever again.

Ha! Who is he kidding? These bitches are soulmates.

I’ve gotten some critiques on this one, so sorry in advance if it’s not to your liking! Basically, what if Midoriya never got his quirk? Obviously, life would find a way to put them together because, as previously stated, these bitches are soulmates.

Plenty of Time (16654 words)

Summary: Bakugou found what little sleep he got restless and filled with nightmares that he forgot the second he opened his eyes. Tonight was the first time in a long time where he just had a normal dream - and it happened to be about Deku.

How fucking typical.

In other words, two dorks realize they have feelings for each other but don't know what to do about said feelings.

Ah, my first fic. Very simple, boys being boys, kinda like a slow burn? Idk how to explain this one, just boys figuring out their feelings and trying to figure out what to do about them. Been told these two are a little stupid but I think that’s valid.

We’re all time bombs waiting to explode (39223 words)

Summary: We have now entered the slipstream of time, into an alternate dimension where it neither is, nor isn’t, the 80’s. Two teenagers, burdened with the weight of adolescence in the modern world, find themselves struggling side by side, in part because of each other.

Bakugou, the most popular boy in school, has everything he could possibly want; status, power, and an unbreakable will. Having been dragged along behind him all the way to the top, Midoriya can’t help but wonder how (and why) he ended up standing beside his childhood friend-turned bully-turned friend again, weighed down by their complicated past and present. As the tension between them grows every day, and the arrival of a new, pretty face causes it to peak, it won’t be long before something - or someone - snaps.

I am...very bad at titles, and summaries apparently. This was my Heathers au, but it very quickly diverges from the original (I don’t do sad endings....) *This one has mature content, including implied sexual activity, drug use, and underage drinking, along with other heavy topics; please read the tags! Though tbh Midoriya is 17 for a couple weeks before it hits his birthday halfway through, so keep that in mind I guess? I kind of went heavy with this one, but I think the pay off was immense. This is the one with the most amount of comments stating it’s their favorite bkdk fic ever (and I cry). It’s a rough start, with a rough journey, but so is bakudeku! There’s a lot of petty drama, and then all of a sudden it’s Not That Petty and very much Far Too Real. Many have cried reading the ending, I cried writing it. My sister says it’s her favorite of mine. Now, I did kind of push this out without polishing it so much because I was losing my willpower, so if it feels lacking, that’s one hundred percent my fault.

Okay that was a lot! It took me a couple days...I hope I wasn’t too annoying with all my opinions! Please have a nice day. and enjoy some good reads, even if they aren’t the ones in this post!

#bakudeku #katsudeku #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bkdk #fics #my writing #god i really hope i didn't fuck up any of this #i spent a long time on it alksdjflaskjdflkasdjf #this is 39 fics without my own #and 44 including mine #i can tell i've forgotten some but #idk it's hard TT_TT #anyways it's 2:30am #if i go to bed at 4am one more time i'm gonna throw myself down a flight of stairs #i hope this is good enough as is!#most of this was written very late so I hope it doesn't sound...crazed

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years ago

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A little Distraction Part 7

This was prompted by the amazing AO3 user a fool! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | AU: Reverse AU [Read full on AO3] [Part2] [Part3] [Part4] [Part5] [Part6]

‚I’m off to work!‘, Nines called from the door and Gavin shut the dishwasher to join him in the hallway. ‘Be careful’, Gavin just said, as he always did. Richard smiled at him and nodded. ‘I’ll try my best.’ Visibly unable to refrain from it, he dove in for a kiss, hesitating just the tiniest moment to allow Gavin to duck away. It hadn’t been necessary for weeks now, but apparently old habits died hard. The android grinned into the short peck and half-heartedly pushed him towards the door. ‘Come on, Fowler will kill you if you are late once again.’ ‘And whose fault is that?’, Nines chuckled, but quickly left for the car. ‘See you in the evening!’ ‘I’ll be waiting for you!’

Gavin watched how Nines drove out of the garage and onto the street, waving him once again before driving off. A routine much like waking up, cuddling, eating breakfast and then waiting until Nines came back. As the car disappeared, Gavin stepped back inside and closed the door. Waiting until Nines came back. It wasn’t like Gavin was trapped in the house, he could have gone outside and investigated the city a bit. Maybe go to the riverfront and see Cyberlife tower being slowly reclaimed by Jericho. Or he could meet with other androids at the several centres set up just for that very reason. Or he could continue watching their current series. He knew when they continued with it in the evening, he would have someone far more interesting at his side, causing him to miss half of it anyways.

But somehow all of that felt dull compared to when Nines was there. All he could really do was wait. And he was growing sick of it now that he had accompanied to being safe and a person. Thinking about what he could possibly do today, he walked through the house. Surprisingly, it was at the table in the living room that his eyes were caught by something: A tablet. It was left behind with a half-emptied glass of water and Nines had likely forgotten to put it away. Curiously Gavin sat down and unlocked the small device. A police case was still open, and Gavin immediately tried to find a date somewhere. If this was something recent it was likely confidential and he shouldn’t know of it, right? But he couldn’t find any, so he assumed it had to be an old one if Nines left it easily accessible on their dinner table. If Gavin had to find something negative about Nines it would have been that he really seemed to love his rules, following them to the last word if needed. He wouldn’t let confidential data accessible to some random- Well, he wasn’t some random android anymore, was he? Maybe Nines trusted him enough already to be sure such information would be safe with him. He really shouldn’t look at the file.

But…

Gavin didn’t have anything else to do and he was extremely curious about what exactly Nines did at work. They spoke about it sometimes, but mostly to just blow off steam about co-workers or relax after a long day. Nines rarely talked about the details. And if anything, Gavin could keep it a secret if he needed to. And really it was Nines’ fault to leave it there. If he would be angry about it in the evening, Gavin decided to focus on that aspect.

He grabbed the tablet and stood up to throw himself on the sofa. This would be an interesting read. It was a case about a murdered husband. He was killed by poultry shears being stabbed into his heart in the bedroom, no DNA-traces or fingerprints except for the husband himself and his wife. The scissors themselves were noted as having no fingerprints at all. Suspects were the wife herself, and a few friends, none of them could be pinned down due to lack of evidence and interrogations brought up no new leads. Gavin was a little disappointed as that was about all he could get from the written reports. Apparently, this had been a dropped case. Maybe that’s why Richard had left it on the table. Maybe he was revisiting old cases.

Gavin sighed and put the tablet aside to unload the dishwasher but couldn’t help but think about it while taking out the plates, pans and silverware. Somehow his thoughts were stuck to the unsatisfying case left unsolved and went over the information again and again.

So much so, that once he was finished, he returned to the sofa and took the tablet once again. He interfaced with it, searching for more raw data in the file. He was surprised to find they actually saved the reconstructed imagery from the countless photos and had made the effort to convert it into a form androids could access in their zen garden. Gavin grinned as he waited for the data transfer. Even if it was an old cold case, playing detective a little was certainly more entertaining than watching old buddy cop shows on TV.

‘Gavin, I’m home!’, Richard called as he closed the door behind him and untied his shoes. He had expected Gavin to come to greet him, but as he had kicked them off his feet and stood up, he was still alone in the hallway. Frowning, he went to investigate. He found Gavin in the living room, laying on the sofa motionless except for a yellow LED circling slowly, sometimes speeding up a bit. Nines crouched down to gently shake the android a bit. ‘Gavin? Can you hear me? Are you alright?’

The GV opened his eyes and sat up in a purely robotic motion. Immediately Nines stepped back, knowing he had startled him out of stasis. ‘Gavin?’ The android looked at him and seemed to relax. ‘N-n-n-nines. Yoooou s-s-surprised me, that’s all.’ HE shook his head, frowned and stood up blinking irritated. ‘I-I-Is it evening already?’ Nines huffed in amusement. ‘Just came back from work. Are you sure you are alright?’ ‘Yes. Yes, I am. Just didn’t thought to get lost this much.’ Richard cocked his head inquisitive. ‘What had you so hooked?’, he asked, starting to walk over to the kitchen as Gavin took a step in that direction.

He was already starting to prepare dinner and the android just leaned against the counter seemingly still in thoughts. ‘You left behind your tablet, Nines’, he started. ‘I was curious, so I had a look at the open case. And before you get angry, it was your fault leaving it in the open!’ Richard laughed. ‘Hey, don’t worry. As far as I know you are not the one to kill that guy, right? It was the Jensen case, right?’ Gavin nodded. ‘Yeah, I checked it in the morning and couldn’t help but get into it. I didn’t have much else to do once you were gone. It’s probably not important, but I think I know who it was.’

Richard nearly dropped the pan he was holding, put it down on the counter and turned towards Gavin, staring at him very intently. To say Gavin was a little creeped out by that wouldn’t be an understatement. ‘Why do you think it wasn’t important?’, he asked. ‘I-I-I don’t know. Thought it was an oooold case?’ Nines nodded and leaned back, blowing air through his teeth. ‘Alright. Shoot. Who was it?’ ‘The wife’s sister.’ ‘What?’, Nines asked, apparently not expecting that answer. ‘Why?’

Gavin sighed and hopped on the counter. ‘Okay, so first you would think the wife, right? She wasn’t too bothered in the interview and let’s be honest, being killed in the bedroom it kinda is the cliché. But I looked at the reconstructed material and I found a different pair of poultry shears in the knife block. So unless she went to the lengths of specifically getting a new pair just to murder someone, I thought it unlikely she was the killer. I mean if it was some sort of personal argument it would have been a heat-of-the-moment decision. Unless the wife was somehow kept at his side by force and had time to plan, she would have taken whatever there was at hand.’ ‘And you are basing that on what?’, Richard asked, still listening intently. ‘Personal experience?’, Gavin shrugged. ‘I was the victim of domestic abuse if you so will, even if I didn’t care about it as a machine. Had there been a longer issue in the relationship one of them could have divorced. There were no children involved after all. Therefore I would have bet on a quick decision, not planned. So I sorted out the wife for now.’ ‘And why the sister?’

‘I went through the interviews’, Gavin answered. ‘The wife openly told you her husband was cheating on her with the neighbour. That’s why she wasn’t too bothered, the hate was still fresh as she learned it only a few days prior to the killing. I looked into who else could have killed him. The husband’s friends didn’t strike me as the type to kill him for whatever reason especially since they had grown rather distant over the years after moving away as most of them stated.’ He watched as Nines nodded and fidgeted with the pan. ‘That’s all I got from the file, too’, he sighed. ‘So why the sister?’ ‘She is family and has a good relationship with the wife. I guessed they would have talked about the fact that her husband cheated on her. And she had history with the police for beating up school-bullies and whoever looked at her sister wrong really.’ ‘How do you know that?’

Gavin grinned. ‘I might have asked Hank to see if a certain person had a criminal record. And I might have lied that the reason was that I was concerned because that person was around our house.’ ‘And Hank allowed that?’ ‘I c-c-can be veeeery co-co-convincing’, the android smiled and Richard laughed. ‘Fooling Hank? That’s a new one.’ ‘Well, it brought me the information I needed. Solved your cold case. Or at least found you more evidence for what it’s worth.’

Nines smirked and looked at Gavin with a proud expression the android couldn’t really place. ‘What?’, he asked finally as the silence went on for too long. ‘Well, Gavin, that wasn’t a cold case. I’m currently working on that and I was stuck in a dead end. I mean I knew she had a sister, but so far there wasn’t enough evidence to question her, besides that her sisters husband was murdered.’ ‘Wait, it wasn’t?’, Gavin asked in surprise.’ ‘Nope.’ He went to the fridge to get some butter for the pan. ‘And you figured that out just because you were bored? In one day?’ ‘I’m sitting here on my own until you come back from work’, Gavin nodded with a shrug. ‘No offense, I’m grateful to have a safe place to stay. But I am bored, and that case file was a welcome challenge.’

‘I mean, I could bring you some files home if you’d like. Not that it’s legal, but I could sneak something past surely.’ ‘You don’t have to’, Gavin immediately assured him. ‘But you clearly have talent for that kind of work. I could speak to Fowler and-‘ ‘That truly isn’t necessary, you don’t have to-‘ ‘You could work with me, I can try to convince Fowler.’

Gavin watched the overly excited human start cooking and think out loud. His first instinct was to decline, but the more the thought about it… he clearly wasn’t qualified to work as a detective but staying with Nines and helping him in the workplace didn’t sound too bad. And he would have something to do finally. A new purpose maybe. He had rounded up with his past life after being brought to his new one and getting accommodated to it. Wasn’t this the logical next step? Finding something for himself and really starting his new life? And what better was there than to start it with Richard?

‘Oh, I will ask him next morning if you could start as a police adviser or hell an intern if he wants to be an ass. I think that should work out perfectly.’ He turned around the first time to look at Gavin. ‘I mean if you want it that is.’ Gavin thought about it but the more he did the more he could see himself getting used to that thought. ‘I think I would like to try that.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #the next story will be up tomorrow I want to take my time with it and not rush it!

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scarletarosa · 5 years ago

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Hermes

Greek god of mischief, travel, commerce, languages, writing, messages, sports, athletes, borders, herds, hospitality, and thieves

Hermes (known as Mercury in Rome) is the emissary and messenger of the gods. He is also "the divine trickster" and "the god of boundaries and the transgression of boundaries, the patron of herdsmen, thieves, graves, and heralds." This god is described as moving freely between the worlds of the mortal and divine, and is the conductor of souls into the afterlife. He is also viewed as the protector and patron of roads and travelers.

In some myths, he is a trickster who outwits other gods for his own amusement or for the sake of humankind. His attributes and symbols include the herma, the rooster, the tortoise, satchel or pouch, winged sandals, and winged cap. His main symbol is the Greek kerykeion or Latin caduceus, which appears in a form of two snakes wrapped around a winged staff with carvings of the other gods. Homer and Hesiod portrayed Hermes as the author of skilled or deceptive acts and also as a benefactor of mortals. In the Iliad, he is called "the bringer of good luck", "guide and guardian", and "excellent in all the tricks". He was a divine ally of the Greeks against the Trojans. However, he did protect Priam when he went to the Greek camp to retrieve the body of his son Hector and then accompanied them back to Troy.

The Homeric Hymn 4 to Hermes tells the story of Hermes, while still a baby, snuck off and stole all 50 of Apollo’s cattle. Hermes already had a cunning mind and so he disguised his tracks by cobbling together “shoes” made of bark from a fallen oak tree. To make it even harder to track him, he confused the herd's trail by driving the cows backward and traversing sandy places that left no prints. Apollo went searching for his cattle and eventually came across an omen which pointed to Hermes being the culprit. At first seeming annoyed, Apollo soon became amused by the cleverness of the young god, and so offered to allow Hermes to keep his cattle in trade for his lyre. Hermes agreed, and that is how Apollo got his lyre and how Hermes became a god of herds.

The idea of him being the herald and messenger of the gods, of his travelling from place to place and concluding treaties, necessarily implied the notion that Hermes was the promoter of social intercourse and of commerce among humans, and that he was friendly towards mankind. In this capacity, he was regarded as the maintainer of peace, and as the god of roads, who protected travelers and punished those who refused to assist travelers who were lost. Hence the Athenian generals, on setting out on an expedition, offered sacrifices to Hermes, surnamed Hegemonius, or Agetor; and numerous statues of the god were erected on roads, at doors and gates, from which circumstance he derived a variety of surnames and epithets.

In my personal experiences with Hermes, he is very friendly, compassionate, upbeat, and humourous. He loves good company and doing exciting things, especially with friends, though he does have a more calm and sometimes serious side as well. Hermes has a great deal of wisdom and tends to know what to say to cheer others up or help them feel more confident but on his more serious side, he can get quite angry if people disrespect the homeless or if someone endangers others by driving recklessly. Though overall, he is very much a cheerful and easy-going deity to be around and is a great deal of fun to spend time with. And although he is the god of thieves, he is moreso a god who represents stealing out of need rather than greed. His energy is like the warmth from the sun and a gentle, cool breeze. In my workings with him, Hermes appears as a young man with curly blond hair that reaches a bit below his chin, sea blue eyes, and wears a naturally soft, friendly expression on his face.

| Symbolism of Hermes |

Winged sandals

Winged helmets

The Caduceus

Satchels

Hawks

Roosters

Tortoises

Palm trees

Coins

| Some of his epithets |

Ænagóhnios (Presiding over games)

Ænόdios (At cross-roads)

Æriounios (Luck-bringer)

Ærivóas (The Loud-shouting)

Ærminéfs pas (The interpreter of everything)

Angæliophóros (Messenger)

Éfphrohn (Joyful and gracious one)

Iyítohr oneira (The master of dreams)

Kærdǽmporos (Bestower of wealth)

Kataivátis (He who leads souls down)

Kharidóhtis (The giver of joy)

Phílandros (The lover of mankind)

Pikilóvoulos (The clever one)

Sohtír (Saviour)

| Offerings |

Sweet coffee, ginger beer, white wine, apple cider, pear cider, coffee beans, strawberries, desserts, sugar, honey, feathers, turkey, apricots, tangerines, peaches, bananas, passion fruit, pineapples, olive oil, hawk skulls, coins (especially from around the world), maps, sandals, tortoise shells or imagery, satchels, caduceuses, daffodils, cooked lamb, cinnamon incense, strawberry incense, stamps, postcards, decorated envelopes, car keys, lottery tickets, playing cards, aventurine, yellow-orange calcite, citrine, precious metals and gems, souvenirs from other countries, poetry, prose (especially if written in different languages), and artwork

#hermes #greek deities #hellenic polytheism #deity work #offerings

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motleycrueroadie · 4 years ago

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Along for the Ride (pt. 7)

Author’s Note: @sonyawongraven - thank you for reaching out and reminding me about this story. I hope that this update meets your expectations for my writing!

Previous Chapters: One I Two I Three I Four I Five I Sixx

When I was a kid, in the rare times that I would read, I had read briefly about a mythological Greek creature called a phoenix. From what I remember, a phoenix cyclically generates itself wherein it combusts and the new phoenix rises from the ashes. In some ways, my music career and myself as a person could be described as phoenix. Frank Feranna Jr. went up in flames and Nikki Sixx rose from the ashes. More recently, the inevitable downfall of London was catalyzed by yours truly in an anger driven resignation by fire and the unnamed band of misfits rose from the ashes. After watching Vince perform at that excuse of a “party”, I knew he was the front man we wanted for the band. However, the silence that came after that realisation was paralyzing and continued to constrict until Vince’s arrival. Despite the fact that we would have found another front man, I was doubtful that he would’ve lived up to the vision I created in my head once I saw Vince play, so I was grateful enough that he had finally shown. Now we had the basic outline of a band but needed a name and a reputation for that name. Of course, in building that name I would also be able to cash in on Janis’ promise to attend our first show.

Janis’ unwavering presence continued to bewilder me with each passing day. My internal pessimistic voice attempted to convince me that she was simply thrill seeking, sticking around because I was her polar opposite and it attracted her. The juxtaposition between us was especially highlighted at the pool party. If Janis had been separated from us, I would’ve had a hell of a time trying to pick her out of the crowd. However, I had to remind myself that Janis didn’t come looking for me. For all the time that I have been living in this building, she has been right above my head. She knew of my existence and never came knocking on my door, but she freely allowed me to walk straight into her life when I sought her out. So each day, these opposing views struggle to dominate my perception of her, attempting to maintain this enigma status to her. The thing was, I knew she wasn’t an enigma. She has never created a veil of illusion to who she is. When I asked her about her parents, she told me. I came to understand that Janis treated everyone like they were her friend but you only knew her if you had asked.

“Baby? Are you coming with me?” The whine in Vince’s girlfriend’s voice was undeniably the most annoying fucking thing I have had to endure this afternoon. She’d been here since we began at 4:30 and she made me want to bash my head against the fucking wall and leave my corpse for the roaches to eat. Glancing over to the microwave in the kitchen, the time read 8:15 which meant that Janis would be bringing down dinner in fifteen minutes. Apparently Tommy followed my glance at the clock, I could literally watch the kid’s hamster in his brain pick up speed on the wheel as he realised the implications of the time. Tommy probably only understood the fact that he would be fed and not that this whiny bitch had not taken a liking to Janis earlier.

“Dude you have to stay, JJ,” Don’t get this bitch started Tommy!

“WE have things to talk about and we want you to stay for them Vince.” Mick was the one to interrupt, catching Tommy’s inability to remember details. Tommy looked over at me with his mouth still open, obviously confused as to why he had been interrupted so I met his look with a quick shake of my head to indicate for him to drop it. “That is, if you’re willing to leave Rock Candy?” We all looked at Vince expectantly, waiting for his answer.

“Yeah of course man.” Almost instantly, a genuine smile broke out on my face, Tommy and Mick were donning similar smiles, the latter’s was more subtle in comparison. Sticking out my hand to Vince, he shook it firmly. The smile on my face only continued to grow as his girlfriend took the hint that he would not be joining her and left, slamming the door behind her.

“What Tommy was about to say before I interrupted him was a reminder that Janis is going to be down in a few minutes with some dinner, but I figured that it was best if that were left unsaid in front of your lovely girl.” Looking over at Tommy, watching his hamster go into overdrive with Mick’s comment was amusing to say the least. Too bad I didn’t know how to play poker because Tommy would be so fucking easy to win against. There was a sudden and uncoordinated knocking at the door and Tommy jumped up from his seat to answer it. Opening the door revealed Janis with a dish in her hands,

“I’m a tad bit early but once I saw that beautiful car leave, I figured this place would be safe for me to enter.” Janis spoke as she crossed the living room to place the dish down on what little counter space there was available. Turning back to face us, she spoke directly to Vince “Your girl has natural guard dog tendencies, but judging by her perception of me as some threat, you” pointing her finger in a mock accusation, “must be the real dog.” Vince, by now sat on the couch, slouched his hips forward and stretched his arms out across the back of the couch.

“You,” Vince imitated her enunciation, “ walked in here wearing very little clothing, all giddy and excited. Can you blame her?” Janis looked quite shocked at this statement, and turned to look at me for support. I for one, knew she had no ill intentions, but knowing that it would get her flustered I shrugged my shoulders slightly to. My intentions of flustering her worked as her cheeks turned rosy and she began playing with the skin of her nails.

“Holy fuck Janis.” Mick spoke with an air of exasperation at her, “They’re busting your balls. You didn’t come off as an adulterous whore looking to fuck this asshole.” She let out a breath that none of us noticed that she was holding in and I laughed at her frustration to which she began laughing as well while flipping Vince and I off. She looked back over at me,

“Is it a safe assumption that you don’t have any cutlery or plates for us to eat off of?” She knew the answer to her own question, but had asked it anyways, a habit that annoyed me. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smirk, and she moved her head in the direction of the door.

“Someone come help me bring the rest down, and DO NOT,” she whipped around to catch Tommy about to reach under the tinfoil to pick at the dish, “touch the food with your bare hands that have not been washed since god knows when!” She strode over to him grabbing his arm, “In fact you can be the one to come and help me!” Since first meeting her in the diner, Tommy knew not to argue with Janis on the matters of etiquette and manners so he simply allowed himself to be dragged out of the apartment. Placing the bass gently into the stand, I walked into the excuse of a bedroom, which was in fact a mattress on the floor with blankets haphazardly strewn across it, to retrieve some papers for naming the band. As I emerged from the bedroom, Tommy and Janis re-entered carrying what appeared to be plates, cutlery, salad, and buns.

“Why didn’t we just come up to your apartment? Considering the amount of stuff you’ve brought down, wouldn’t it have made more sense for us to come to you?” I asked her.

“Am I not allowed a change of scenery?” Shaking my head at her, she grinned knowing that once again she had answered my question with another question rather than just giving me an answer. “Anyways, I’ve made baked pasta and Caesar salad for you all.” Tommy of course had his plate ready and his ass back on the couch before she even finished the statement. Grabbing beers from the fridge, I placed them all on the table before glancing expectantly to Janis while holding one in my hand, she nodded back to me. Once we were all seated, I began alternating between eating and shuffling through the papers and notebooks in front of me trying to find what I was looking for. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Janis watching me.

“So here’s my theory okay?” Speaking up suddenly, I had their attention, “Look, if we want to knock people on their asses then we’ve got to give them a show. The punks? They’re doing the minimalist thing, so let’s take this in the exact opposite direction…” Tommy and Vince were nodding in agreement with me, while Mick remained stoic and difficult to read. However, I was only looking towards Janis at this point, not because she was an integral part of the band that I needed approval from but because I was nervous. Being nervous at this point sounds stupid, but I have been thinking about this band long before these guys were sitting in this room with me. “I’m talking, I’m talking a stadium show in the clubs, man,” unconsciously my hands were talking with me as I grasped at ideas, “Like, like costumes and lights and…”

“Pyro and flames and shit! Explosions.” Tommy exclaimed. Janis glanced over at him and gave a light laugh as she turned back to me, but his enthusiasm only built confidence in me that at least he shared my vision.

“Exactly! Exactly!” Becoming more focused, I reigned back in the conversation. “Look it’s a fucking war out there and the only way we win is by showing these kids something they’ve never seen before.”

“So what do we call this thing?” Vince spoke, signaling that he was also on board. Flipping through the notebook pages, I continued “You know it’s all about being fucking larger than life.” Stopping on the page, I looked up to Vince and showed him the pentagram symbol and ‘XMASS’ name.

“X-MASS?” He questioned.

“On a scale of 1-10? I think it’s a 1.9.” Spoke Mick. The others gave snorts of laughter while I felt slightly defeated.

“It’s a play on Christmas. You know? You can use all the Christ imagery and shit. It’ll piss people off and make people think!” My attempts to steer this conversation back into my direction did not appear to be going in my favour. “It’s got shock value.”

“Yeah, I’m shocked at how much it blows.” Mick stated. Exasperated, I put the notebook down on the table. A business pitch gone astray, I had lost them. Janis glared at Mick before letting out a sigh, and picking up my notebook to flip through some of the pages.

“Not quite sure what religious trauma you went through but I’m sensing a theme here.” Setting the notebook back down on the table, she looked me dead in the eyes and spoke genuinely, “You don’t want to piss the wrong people off and the church are definitely people to steer clear of. Also you’re overestimating the intellectual capacity of the club goers Nikki. They don’t want to think.” She shrugged her shoulders, “They just want to get fucked out of their minds and listen to good music.”

“Alright then assholes, you give it a shot, but fucking make it big.” Each of them grabbed a notebook off the table, save for Janis who continued eating her dinner while glancing at the clock in the kitchen. I followed her gaze to see it reading 9:00, looking back I caught her eye and she winked at me before looking down at what Tommy was writing. She smacked him on the chest with the back of her hand and he laughed as he turned the notebook around to face us. A crudely drawn dick with the words “The Fourskins” written on it was the best he could come up with.

“Really Tommy?” I feigned annoyance while I laughed.

“Yeah cause we’re going to fuck the audience in the face every night dude!”

“But can you see that shit on the marquee above the forum every night?” Again, I had unconsciously talked with my hands, splaying out across a fake marquee.

“Yeah you’re right. I’m out.” Tommy tossed the notebook back onto the table as Janis gave him a whispered scolding for essentially wasting his breath but I knew she found it funny too. Mick seemed to be deep in thought, so I jutted out my chin at him and he turned the notebook around while speaking,

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” The paper read Motley Crew. Janis chuckled lightly at this, looking around the group while I took the notebook from his hand to add a few tweaks to it.

“Don’t think I could have thought of a more encompassing word for you lot.” Janis and Mick exchanged a look and she held out her fist to him, he smirked and reached across the table where he sat to return the gesture to her. Turning the notebook back around to the group, it read Mötley Crüe. Despite losing their attention earlier, they all nodded in agreement to this name and the encouragement energized me.

Not long after our name had been decided upon, Janis (with the recruited help of Tommy yet again) packed up the leftovers and made her way back to the apartment. It had almost slipped my mind that it was a Monday night and she would be headed to work. She thanked us for letting her intrude on our band naming session, which I found to be amusing considering that she had been the one to feed us for free. Once Tommy had returned, the drinks were flowing and I was beginning to get a sense of who Vince was and I quite liked it. Over the past few weeks, I had been able to go out with Tommy and Mick. Tommy proved to be someone who I could raise hell with and although Mick wasn’t a complete buzzkill, he did not seem keen on joining in the festivities. He humoured us by dryly laughing at our antics but his heart never seemed to be quite into it. Although, maybe Janis could get him to loosen up a little bit. Mick seemed to tolerate her a bit more than he did Tommy and I for whatever reason.

“So what’s with that Janis chick, Tommy mentioned her at the party more or less as cherry on top of the offer,”

“Must not have been why you really came seeing as you showed up with a chick. Also please don’t bring her back here.” Hoping to steer him clear of the topic of Janis, I would rather not listen to him talk about her like I assumed he would. I loved pussy as much as the next person, but Janis wasn’t pussy.

Vince began listing reasons why he kept his girl around, among which was money, something none of us had a lot of. Fuck. If I had known she had access to cash, I would’ve been kissing her ass rather than been at her throat earlier. He briefly apologized for ghosting us on the offer but explained that he had eventually listened to the tape and liked it but also figured that he owed it Tommy to come for helping him out when he was in a tough spot in high school. If he didn’t feel in debt to Tommy, he probably wouldn’t be here. I couldn’t tell whether I should respect him or be annoyed. Doesn’t matter now cause he’s here.

With enough beers in my system I was beginning to feel cramped in the cluttered and frankly gross apartment and felt I had enough of my company for the time being. It was a bit difficult to shake Tommy off but I told him to stay at the apartment with Vince and Mick so they didn’t feel they had to leave. The Whiskey-a-Go-Go was only down the street from the apartment building and didn’t take long to reach on foot. Staring up at the marquee, I knew that our name was going to look great up there and it was simply a matter of time. Turning the corner, I could see the fluorescent sign of my destination in the distance. Approaching the same window I had seen her in initially, Janis was not visible, but I could hear Jump in the Line by Harry Belafonte playing from the jukebox inside meaning that Janis had acquired some quarters. Opening the door, I reached up and stopped the bell from ringing to maintain a stealthy approach. This one looked quite similar to the one above Janis’ apartment door but newer. It clicked that she must have taken the old when it was replaced. Turning my head left and right I could see a pair of bent sun kissed legs on the ground peeking out from underneath a table with one converse clad shoe tapping along to the beat of the song. Approaching the table, making sure to keep to the side so that she wouldn’t be able to see me, I shifted uncomfortably when I saw that the skirt of her uniform was riding up on Janis’ thighs as she sat on the floor appearing to scrape gum off the bottom of the booth.

“For someone scraping gum off tables, you look pretty happy.” She jumped slightly at the surprise of my voice and banged her head off the table, cursing and rubbing it while glaring up at me. Holding out my hand to her while laughing at her pain, she smacked it away with the straight edge scraper and made her way off the floor.

“You want a JC?” She questioned, making her way over to the bar.

“Of course.” Sliding into the booth, I made my way over to the jukebox that had stopped playing to slip a quarter in and chose a personal favourite. The opening guitar sequence to Dream On by Aerosmith rang throughout the diner and Janis nodded appreciatively as she approached with the JC which I gladly accepted and downed in two gulps. She smirked up at me in what I could only describe as a devilish grin. I smirked back down at her, “What?”

“Did my spit make your drink taste especially good?” The laugh that I loved to hear blended beautifully with the song. I was content being here, even if she had spit in my drink as payback for scaring her. For now, life is good, exceptionally so with Janis by my side.

#the dirt (2019)#the dirt fanfiction #Motley Crue #douglas booth!nikki sixx

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thebestworstidea · 5 years ago

Text

Crash and Burn

(Falling Star)

(Implied Dukeceit, Implied intrulogical, Remus-typical dialogue and imagery.)

Thomas is feeling better, and ready to dive back into making videos. Something is a little off, however...

“What is up everybody?” Thomas said cheerfully into the camera. “I know it’s been a hot minute, but I had to go back down to like, the fourth video and take the time for me I needed, and that can take a while. But I’m feeling better now, energized and raring to go. So it’s time for some good old-fashioned brainstorming, and for that I’ll need my brain” he gestured towards the entryway, and Logan rose up with a resigned expression.

“Good afternoon Thomas. Surely there has to be a more efficient way to do this?”

“This is more fun!” Thomas retorted. “And I’ll also need my-” he gestured towards the television and Logan surged forward a little bit

“Perhaps you shouldn’t-”

There was a laggardly pause, then a strain of music played- distinctly not an airy flourish.

“No wait wait!” Thomas made a pushing down gesture, but it was too late. Remus had arrived with a wine glass full of something white and opaque, and what might have been fingers sticking out of it. He stuck one in his mouth and crunched.

“I brought snacks!” he said cheerfully, toasting with the glass.

“Remus, what are you doing here?”

“You called for your creativity! And here I am.”

“I called for Roman”

“Yep.” he scooped out some of whatever was in the cup with the orange stick, and licked it off. “You got me though.”

“What is that, puss and fingers?”

“Uh, no. It’s Pumpkin-spiced greek yogurt and baby carrots.”

“Somehow worse.” Thomas winced. “Wait, that’s a seasonal flavor, where did you find that?”

“Where do I find anything good to eat? The back of the fridge.”

“It’s May.”

“I grew the carrots.”

“Baby carrots aren’t actually young carrots, they're just tumbled pieces of larger carrots.” Logan protested.

“Tell that to my nursery! They’re so cute in diapers.”

“Remus what did you do to Roman?”

“What did I do to Roman?” he gave a stuttering laugh. “What did you do to Roman.”

“Is he still upset about…”

“Roman has been… less than communicative of late.” Logan put in. “You can still ‘brainstorm’ you said without him-”

“Take me off the bench!” Remus urged. “Or take me over it, both sound fun.”

There was a pause as both Thomas and his Logic stared at Remus, who took a slurping sip of his snack, leaving yogurt in the edge of his mustache.

“Where is he?” Thomas demanded. Remus straightened up a little bit and wiggled.

“Ooh I love it when you get commanding, Tommy. He’s in the Imagination, playing petty tyrant.”

“Is that bad?” Thomas asked Logan.

“Well, yes and no. Bad for you? No, you’re still able to access the things Roman brings to the table. You haven’t had any problems getting ridiculous crushes on semi-celebrities, acting, or thinking of ideas, this was just a formal brainstorming session, probably because you didn’t have a better idea for a video besides watching Roman and I ‘Go At It’.” Remus snorted with amusement. “Bad for Roman? Possibly.”

“Uh, that’s not the way ‘go at it’ is normally used.” Thomas said, looking a little uncomfortable.

“It is not used to indicate conflict?”

“It’s more often used to indicate fucking.” Remus corrected “Like ‘watching two dogs going at it’.”

“I assumed it meant fighting.” Logan pulled out a card and jotted something down on it. Remus took another sip of his yogurt, and stuck a carrot in his mouth like a cigar.

“Say, did you know that rabbits don’t actually like carrots that much? They can get sick if they eat too many.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it was Bugs Bunny making a reference to a popular movie star smoking a cigar.” Remus went a little starry eyed. “Bugs Bunny is a chaos god of an influencer. Instagram wants what he has.”

“Well that’s a piece of my childhood destroyed.” Thomas sighed.

“Much like that poor rabbit’s colon.”

“He’s right, carrots are mainly fructose and fiber, though they do contain several nutrients. They’re far from the healthiest vegetable available.”

“Doesn’t matter, still hate them.” Thomas pushed his hair back from his face. “Can we get back to my missing Roman?”

“Have you been missing him?” Remus asked, eating the last of the carrots and tossing the wine glass over his shoulder, behind the TV. Thomas assumed it was imaginary, but he winced anyway.

“I thought I was giving him space to calm down.” Thomas said in a small voice.

Remus cackled. “He hasn’t come out of the imagination in weeks, he is in no way calmed down.”

“Which does bring me back to the ‘possibly’ I mentioned earlier.” Logan put in. He paused and didn’t say any more.

“Are you trying to be ominous? Because you’re being kind of ominous.”

“That wasn’t my intent, Thomas, I simply wanted to be sure you wanted the information.” he cleared his throat. “You are aware of our ‘rooms’ at this point, where some of our traits are, shall we say, prevalent.”

“You’re soaking in it.” Offered Remus, picking bits of carrot out of his teeth.

“Not inaccurate. This shall we say field of effect can have a negative effect on sides that don’t share the right- there isn’t really a word for it- call it theoretical biology.”

“What does this have to do with Roman?”

“Bear with me please, I’m getting to that. It can have a negative effect on other sides, but a positive effect on the side to whom the ‘room’ belongs. It can increase stability, reinforce tasking, and give a feeling of wholeness.”

“Patton got over excited and effusive in his room though-”

“That’s just Patton. Particularly Patton who is trying to avoid a subject.”

“I keep telling him that talking about his last bowel movement works so much better to get people to change the subject, but apparently that’s a shitty idea.” Remus put in.

“At any rate, Roman’s room-”

“Our Room”

“‘Creativity’s room- Enhances shall we say, flights of fancy, visualization, and to a certain degree, emotional responses.”

“And that’s the Imagination you guys have been talking about?”

“Nope!”

“The imagination is part of you the same way we are part of you, just not anthropomorphized.”

“Make me sound like a furry there, Logan.” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“Ugh.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, and continued. “Other parts of your brain are the subconscious, autonomous functions, and your memory archives, both short term and long term. Most parts of your mind interact. What we call the mindscape is basically the place between these parts. We, that is your Sides, live in that area. While we each have our ‘rooms’ our corners of your mind, we also have a common area, which is more or less where you go when you want to talk to us, it isn’t very deep into the mindscape, a surface level daydream. You don’t even realize you’re not quite in the real world.” He looked at Thomas. “Are you… following any of this?”

“Uhm. I’m going to nod, but I’m also going to admit I’m probably not going to retain much.” Thomas smiled weakly.

“As per the usual.” Logan huffed. “Do you wish me to continue?”

“I need you to get to the point.”

“Roman isn’t spending time in his room or even the mindscape to refocus. He’s spending all his time in the imagination, instead of just most of it. This isn’t interfering with his function, so much as how he interacts with it.”

“He’s throwing a hissy fit. But he doesn’t want to duck out, he just wants attention.” Fingers looped as if he was holding something Remus shook his hand up and down from the wrist. “But because he’s pretty much barricaded himself in the imagination to play at being a villain, no one can get to him.”

“I’ve been trying-”

“Yeek!” Thomas jumped as Patton rose up.

“Sorry sport.” Patton smiled weakly. He looked a little tired and stressed. “Like I said, I keep trying to talk to him, but I get lost, then I end up back outside the imagination again.”

“Which at least mean’s Roman’s family-friendly rules are still mostly intact, despite his prolonged sojourn.” Logan commented. “Regardless of this delusion that he’s developed.”

“What delusion?”

“Roman tends to think of things as pretty black and white.” Patton bit his lip “I have trouble with it too. I’ve been working on it. Gosh, I sure have a lot to work on. Uhm, so when he felt that he wasn’t your hero; if the person he thought of as the villain wasn’t a villain, he had to be.” Patton rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “He had a little problem after we got Virgil back, but the whole thing was, you know, gradual. Roman could rephrase him as kind of… you know those dark brooding characters in movies that love dogs, and have a heart of gold? Like that.”

“Besides,” Remus pointed out. “He’d decided that he didn’t like Virgie, but that he was his. Him and DJ are alike in that they get super possessive. DJ was never his villain, just the villain. He’s my villain.” he added under his breath smugly.

“What does that mean? I thought you two were like, friends. In cahoots.”

“‘friends’ “ Logan said distantly.

“Look at it this way Thomas; What does Roman inspire you to do? Get out there and put yourself in front of a lot of people to perform. What makes that less likely? The fact those people are going to judge you with no context what-so-ever.”

Thomas had to admit the thought made him shudder.

“What do I inspire you to do?”

“... swear? Masturbate? Eat things I find on the ground?” Thomas thought for a long moment “ … Jump out of a moving car?”

“That’s the one I was thinking of. And staging it for a vine doesn’t count, btw, it’s still on the to-do list.” Remus smoothed his mustache. “And what does DJ do? He comes up with excuses for the swearing. He’s self preservation. He stops you from destructive behavior. Well, except for the chips.”

“Do we have any?” Logan said without thinking, looking over his shoulder. “No, wait, focus. Thomas you’re going to need to have a healthy snack after we’re done here.”

“You should try the carrots and yogurt.” Remus urged, as Thomas and Patton made identical expressions of distaste. “Deodorant then?”

“Roman!” Patton urged. “We need to get him out of the imagination before he forgets that he’s not a figment!” he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “I don’t want to stand next to Remus for the rest of our lives.”

“Love you too, Daddy Dearest.”

“I ... love … you I just don’t love the way you smell.” Patton said uncomfortably. “I’ve made up my mind that I was wrong and I can … care about you, even if you’re really scary.”

“If you give yourself a hernia, I will poke it.”

“Can that happen?” Thomas demanded of Logan. “Can Roman just… forget who he is?”

“The short answer is yes. He can. He’s always come back to himself before, but he’s always been much more himself when he forgets before this, so- the data is inconclusive. For now, we can’t seem to reach him.”

“Leaving me to answer the call as your imagination.” Remus leaned forward, as much into Thomas’s space as he could outside of daydream mode. “Use me.”

Thomas leaned away, laughing uncomfortably.

“Can I use you to come up with a way to get Roman back?”

“If you’re going to be dull, yeah.”

“Can we… can we go get him? Like we did with Virgil?” Thomas asked.

“That would be incredibly dangerous. The Imagination is not like our rooms. It’s unpredictable, and easy to get lost in.”

“Patton just said he keeps ending up back outside it.”

“That’s Patton.” Logan gestured at him. “If you were with us, I don’t know what would happen. We could get separated, or hurt, and our natural abilities are tempered by the environment.”

“So what, I just wait around for him to work through whatever he’s doing, or forget us and abandon me?” Thomas looked genuinely upset at the prospect.

“Don't worry,” Remus assured Thomas, with a huge grin. “I’ll always stick with you, until you safeword out.”

“Uh, disturbing; also we haven’t established a safe word.”

“Better start guessing then.” Remus winked.

“He prefers ‘Roman’ And ‘Please’” Logan offered.

Thomas turned slowly and stared at Logan for a long moment. Logan blinked at him, wondering what brought that on.

“Okay, moving on.” Thomas shook himself. “I understand the danger Logan, but I can’t… I can’t just wait around and hope this gets better on it’s own. Roman’s my … my friend, as well as everything else. If I hurt him, I need to try and fix it.”

“I don’t think you do understand the danger, Thomas.” Logan bit his lips together and pressed the side of his knuckles to his mouth.

“As much as I love being the bearer of bad news…” Janus descended the staircase, stopping on the landing. “I’m afraid it’s gotten worse.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas said nervously. “... and where is Virgil? I feel like shit, he should be here, even if he’s still a little on edge from all the big reveals.”

“That’s the bad news.” Janus sighed, looking slightly defeated. “He went after Roman. By himself.”

#Sanders Sides Fic #TS Thomas #TS Logan #TS Remus #TS Patton #TS Janus

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kamekamelea · 5 years ago

Text

sailing home once and for all

hi, @disruptedvice! this my fic for you for the @b99fandomevents challenge - not sure if that’s what you had in mind giving the prompt “ocean/sea imagery or theme“ but I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

Huge THANK YOU goes to @amydancepants-peralta, this fic wouldn’t have turn out the way it did if it wasn’t for your input and all your priceless help❤ ❤ ❤ also, thanks @b99peraltiago for letting me rant about this thing 😊💕 I’m very happy I could participate in this awesome event so thanks @elsaclack and @startofamoment for setting it up!

it’s a bit long and I’m posting only a small piece of it on tumblr, so I invite you to read the whole thing HERE on ao3

Summary: In the universe where Jake is a sailor from New York, he finds himself coming back home to this one special girl - detective Amy Santiago.

~~~*~~~

“Jake, you’re twisting it in a weird angle!”

Meet Amy. Amy Santiago, to be precise, a young detective from New York, aspiring to be the youngest Captain in the history of the NYPD: currently worrying about her injured friend.

“Title of your sex tape!”

And this is said friend, or best friend as he likes to point out to her on various occasions, Jake Peralta, a young sailor from New York: currently on a medical leave because of a nasty bullet wound in his leg.

“Ugh, just let me help you get out of the car!”

There are many reasons for Amy’s irritation in that particular moment. First of all, she’s a bundle of nerves because they’re just about to enter her party, where she’s about to celebrate her recent promotion in the ranks of the NYPD - she’s a detective now. Secondly, she’s going to party with her boss, the one and only Captain Raymond Holt - a true hero and her mentor, and that’s why she has to try her hardest not to make a fool of herself tonight. Which also means she shouldn’t drink any alcohol, because according to her friends (or Jake’s rather, given the fact that it is Gina’s observation) Amy drinks by the rules of a certain scale, making her more capable of embarrassing herself with every drink she takes. And if she can’t drink, it means it’s going to be extra hard to calm down her nerves.

And there is one more reason for Amy Santiago to be nervous, though she’s not willing to admit it, even in the back of her mind. And the reason is her best friend Jake meeting her boyfriend Teddy tonight. The only part of Amy Santiago aware of such musings is her gut, and her gut is telling her this is not going to go smoothly.

First and foremost though, Amy Santiago is irritated because Jake Peralta is not willing to cooperate in the complicated procedure of getting him out of her car. Why complicated? Oh, because his leg is injured, after he’s been shot in the thigh. By her. A month ago.

“Ames, there’s no need for you to babysit me. I’m totally capable of getting out of the car by myself, I’m a grown man!” Even though he means it as a scolding, the goofy grin his giant mouth forms betrays his true mood.

“Jake, we’re going to be late and you know how much I hate being late! And it’s my party!”

“Amy, your party doesn’t start in the next half an hour. How on earth can we be late?”

“I’m late according to my plan, I was supposed to be there an hour early just to make sure nobody gets there before me.”

“You’re a dorky weirdo, Amy Santiago, you know that?”

“Yeah, you tell me that like twice a day. Now give me your hand and pull yourself up!” She’s using her most reprimanding voice on him, despite learning a long time ago that it had absolutely zero affect on him. He responds with a chuckle at her exasperation - demonstrating how much he thinks she’s exaggerating - making her roll her eyes in annoyance.

“I can see your leg is healing well, Peralta.” Holt’s smooth voice fits well the elegant way he points at Jake’s leg and Amy sighs in contentment, the awareness of her being worthy enough of having such a superb guest at her promotion party overflowing her.

“It would heal much better if you’d got me that medal you promised me, Sir.”

“I told you already there is no chance for you to get a medal. The procedures of being a liaison for the NYPD - the documents CYX-4756-RW and CYX-4758-RW to be precise - state clearly that in this particular situation there is no legal basis for you to get an official NYPD commendation for your service. I get how inequitable it may seem, but these are the rules and they need to be followed.”

She wishes she could admire for a little longer the way Raymond recitates the NYPD procedures with such ease, but of course Jake had to ruin this blissful moment for her.

“Jake knows all of it, Sir, he’s only joking… Sir.” Amy makes a weird bow with her head but recollects herself, seeing the puzzled look on Holt’s face and an amused one on Jake’s.

“I see. People often use humour to obliterate a trauma they’re dealing with. And I can only imagine how hard it is to overcome such a traumatic experience of being shot by a partner and a friend.”

There it is, that goofy smile on Jake’s face as he’s nodding his head vigorously hearing Captain’s words and sensing an opportunity to tease Amy.

“Oh, Sir, you have no idea-” He’s about to get into the mocking thing but Amy decides not to let him, mumbling polite apologies in Holt’s direction, as she grabs Jake’s arm in order to pull him somewhere he’s not able to embarrass her in front of her authority figure.

“Hey, Santiago! That wasn’t part of the deal! You said I can make as much fun of you for shooting me as I please! And I please a lot!”

“I forgot to mention this doesn’t apply to my boss!”

“You make a whole lot of terms for a person who shot me! Shouldn’t it be the other way round?” The playful tone indicates Jake’s not really angry with her, and for n-th time this last month Amy wonders how is this possible.

Actually, this is one of the things she admires the most in Jake Peralta - his absolute lack of capability of bearing a grudge against anybody. Though, truth be told, in the course of the last year she’s known Peralta, she’s become aware of his many assets. For instance, his integrity - she knows for a fact that there were countless occasions in his life when he’s been offered to have some profit by committing some kind of crime, but he never caved in. Also, his kindness - she’s been a witness of it but also the receiver, so many times. He’s also very smart, even if it’s in his own adorable way. Though the detective in her has to admit that he’s incredibly good at connecting the dots, when it comes to solving cases.

And he makes her laugh. A lot.

“What do you say I buy you a beer as a remedy?” She sighs in resignation, succumbing to his goofy charms.

~READ REST ON AO3~

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2019 fic exchange #b99 fic #b99fic #jake x amy #jake x amy fic #peraltiago #peraltiago au #peraltiago fic #my writing #mine #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #sailor!jake au #kasia writes

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ducktracy · 5 years ago

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107. buddy in africa (1935)

disclaimer: this review entails racist imagery, content, and concepts. i don’t endorse any of these stereotypes or depictions whatsoever, i find them gross and wrong. however, it would be just as wrong to gloss over them and act like they didn’t exist. this review is purely for educational and informational purposes. please let me know if i say something harmful, offensive, or wrong—it is NEVER my intention to do so. thank you for bearing with me and understanding.

release date: july 6th, 1935

series: looney tunes

director: ben hardaway

starring: jackie morrow (buddy)

ben hardaway’s last buddy cartoon. buddy sets up a moving variety store shop in africa, but a pesky monkey and gorilla cause problems for our little shopkeeper.

just a normal day where a man is mowing the grass in his african village, or so we think. a pan out reveals that he’s perched on top of a house, mowing the straw roof. another gag includes a human juicer, a man twisting the bone in his hair to squeeze the juice out of the fruit in the man’s mouth. some villagers engage in a game of horseshoe, a man tossing children and using their nose rings to get caught onto the stake in the ground. as always, racial stereotypes and caricature are abound and uncomfortable.

enter chipper buddy, whistling away as he totes his trailer behind his car, advertising a variety store. a somewhat similar premise would be used in porky’s five and ten, where fish wreak havoc on his own variety store. a gorilla is hitchhiking, eagerly sticking out his thumb when buddy approaches. buddy rides straight on by, bad news for the gorilla, who dismisses him frustratedly. there’s a nice (albeit standard) gag of a monkey traffic cop and a giraffe posing as a traffic sign. the monkey directs the traffic, while a kangaroo (in africa???) stuffs litter in its pouch.

a guard waits by the entrance of the village. he spots buddy approaching and snags another villager, shaking him and ringing him like a bell. everyone pokes their heads out to see what the occasion is as buddy drives through the gates.

buddy screeches to a halt and begins to set up shop, beating on a drum, his butt, some pots and pans, greeting the crowd congregating before him with “howdy, folks! here it is!” jackie morrow’s voice acting is very cute, and it’s neat that they got an actual child actor (i believe i read somewhere that he was 9 when he voiced buddy). i think jack carr’s voice suited him more, though—it was an ambiguous child AND adult voice. it could pass for either, just like buddy’s appearance. i guess it’s just a little strange seeing buddy drive a car and own a house and talk in a child’s voice. just something very petty to nitpick at, morrow does a very good job of voicing buddy. the villagers exchange fruit for the goods as the trade ensues.

there’s another rather redundant and arbitrary shot of the gorilla hitchhiker before cutting back to buddy and his booming business. one of the villagers goes into his hut with his newfound collectibles. he twists two lightbulbs in his ears, which add some much needed light into the dark hut. he placed a lampshade on his head and reads the newspaper. elsewhere, another villager stuffs fireworks in his mouth and lights them, flying off into the distance. it’s an absurd gag, but the abruptness and almost incoherence of it makes it highly amusing.

meanwhile, our little salesman triumphantly displays some bottles. “here’s a drink that’ll cure your jitters,” he announces in rhyme, “buddy’s famous jungle bitters!” one of his customers takes the bottles buddy was holding in his hands, whereas a pesky little monkey decides to help himself, too. buddy scolds the monkey, but the monkey isn’t bothered, chattering and slamming buddy’s car door shut.

four of the villagers drink the bitters—music strikes. a man plucks his hair like a bass as they sing “marchin’ towards ya, georgia!” a very catchy song indeed with lovely vocals, but appreciation severely muddled by the blatant blackface caricatures staring you in the face. a man plays an elephant like a pair of bagpipes, a man stretches out his lips (sigh) and plays them like a muted trumpet, and a woman sings some vocals. she has some sort of pipe on her neck (it’s difficult to tell since this print is so poor in quality), and a man annoyed with her singing turns a knob that shuts her up. meanwhile, buddy merrily juggles his bottles.

two of the villagers dance, bouncing around doing handstands. obviously, this whole scene, not to mention entire cartoon is cringeworthy and painful to watch (unfortunately, this is relatively tame compared to other cartoons), but the animation is solid, very bouncy and fun. a turtle plays itself like a banjo while the four singers finish up the song. very catchy indeed.

back to the monkey, who’s proving himself to be quite the nuisance. he bangs the bottle against the car in an attempt to open it—buddy yells at him to stop and to give it back, but the monkey refuses. buddy chases the monkey around the car—he dives under the car, where the monkey pops out on top and hits the bottle against buddy’s head. buddy snags the bottle (which somehow isn’t broken) out of the monkey’s hands and spanks him. back to the harman-ising days of spanking gags! how we miss you!

accomplished, buddy releases the monkey and laughs. the monkey shakes his fist and wanders off, right back to the hitchhiking gorilla. ahhh, of course. the monkey chirps and squeals about his horrific encounter with buddy, patting his own butt for good measure. the seemingly docile gorilla scowls and rolls up its fur-sleeves (such an overdone gag, but a big guilty pleasure of mine. i can’t help but love it!) menacingly. it puffs its chest out and tips its hat forward, preparing to march along. a nice detail as the monkey follows behind, also puffing out his chest.

the gorilla and monkey come to a standstill as a guard confronts them at the entrance to the village. a lovely little bit of acting as the gorilla shrugs at the monkey for advice, the monkey punching its palm. the gorilla takes its orders and pummels the guard into the ground, the gorilla stepping on his head and the monkey poking his eyes.

predictably, buddy gets his. he’s pumping up a tire when the gorilla terrorizes him, stepping onto the tire and propelling buddy upwards. the gorilla catches buddy and slams him down onto the tire, pumping the air pump and propelling him offscreen. thusly, the gorilla snags the pump and tire, preparing to beat buddy senseless by swinging the tire like the world’s most painful lasso. the scene reads as incoherent (even aside from the poor quality) as the tire hits the gorilla instead, shooting it into the distance. a tree slingshots the gorilla back to where it was (nice rubbery animation of the tree), and the gorilla barrels right into a lookout tower. the tower collapses, trapping buddy AND the gorilla who are both unscathed. finding great humor in the debacle, the little monkey laughs at the gorilla. in a moment of camaraderie, the gorilla exchanges a glance with buddy and punches the tire. the tire sends the air pump handle rocketing, which in turn hits the monkey, who flies into the distance. iris out as foes become friends, the gorilla and buddy shaking hands.

hardaway’s buddy cartoons, in my opinion, were slightly weaker than king’s. in general, they’re all pretty bland—the titles blend together and i can’t even remember if i have a discernible favorite or not. i know i had commended a buddy cartoon relatively recently and labeled it as good, but i can’t even think of it! thus proves buddy’s blandness. this is another bland one, more than usual. right off the bat the racial stereotypes and caricatures make the cartoon an uncomfortable watch. the monkey and gorilla scenes were amusing, though. the ending battle read as incoherent and incomprehensible, i kept having to rewind it just to formulate what was going on. it was certainly creative and high energy, though, and i applaud that. the song number was nice and catchy, but that’s it. i hate to say “it could have been worse” because blackface is blackface and stereotypes are stereotypes, any inclusion at all is immediately bad. but i suppose there are cartoons out there that are more mean-spirited than this one, more of a “celebration everyone sings and dances for the fun of it and everyone gets along”, but still. not pleasant and cringeworthy. even besides that, the cartoon doesn’t have much going for it at all. you won’t miss anything by skipping.

but, as always, i’ll provide a link. obviously view at your own discretion.

#lt #buddy in africa #reviews #long post #racism tw

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lookslikechill · 6 years ago

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WIP Intro: Between His Fingers

➤ Title: Between His Fingers ➤ Genre: Historical Fiction, Murder Mystery, Romance ➤ Tense: Close Third Person ➤ Status: First Draft/Planning ➤ Setting: Port Cassandra, Northern Coastal California, USA//late 1940′s ➤ Rating: 18+ for sexual content, violence, and just some heavy-ass content. ➤ Themes: personal struggle & growth, PTSD/mental illness, internalized homophobia, institutionalized homophobia, toxic masculinity, flawed/ineffective government/police, police accountability, familial relationships, gay male romance, secret relationship, murder mystery. ➤ Featuring: secrets & mysteries - old city - underfunded police force - different kinds of romantic relationships - The Ocean & The Forest - car troubles - men being stupid - Angst(tm) - Passion - drunken nonsense - Everybody Smokes(except Miles) - And Swearing

➤ One Line: Two cops in late 40′s coastal California try to solve crimes while also being secretly super gay for each other.

➤ Summary:

With state of his knee, damaged in the war and making it impossible for him to pursue anybody or anything on foot, Alistair James Sheep is lucky to be an officer with the Port Cassandra Police Department in the first place, never mind the anxious state of mind he keeps tucked under the rug. He is unlucky to be divorced, a fairly uncommon status in the late 1940′s. The matter of luck is a bit more complicated when it comes to the forbidden relationship he somehow managed to slip into with Miles Crawford, his very male crime-solving partner of almost two years.

The modest city of Port Cassandra had not been the most squeaky-clean, crime-free place since Alistair had lived there, but a sudden spike of murders and arson cases has the city on its toes. It wouldn’t be that much of a problem, if it wasn’t for the department’s outdated and old resources, lack of organization, and dismissive and ineffective Captain. If that wasn’t enough, some of Miles and Alistair’s fellow officers seem to be more interested in causing more problems than solving them.

➤ Characters:

Alistair Sheep(pov), 28, male(he/him); reserved & sharp-tongued, anxious & paranoid, mechanically inclined, introverted, detail-oriented, always the driver, great shot, bad at emotions and sharing.

5′10″, white man with a build on the narrower side of things, lean, very dark brown, wavy hair and a short, full beard, modest, blunt eyebrows, brown eyes, sharp/pronounced jawline, subtly bumpy nose with a slight curve to the left, straight & alert posture/stance, tends to rest his weight to the left, resting asshole face.

Alistair arrived home before the war ended, in 1944, due to the injuries that left him with a permanent limp and an inability to run effectively. He doesn’t (refuses to) use a cane most of the time now, but most likely will have to give in as he gets older. He and his then-wife and childhood friend, Emily, moved to Port Cassandra in very early ‘46 in a last-ditch effort to save their crumbling marriage, which obviously failed. With the issue of his mobility, he joined Port Cassandra’s Police Department under the condition that he would always have another Officer, capable of running, with him when he was on duty outside of the Station.

Miles Crawford, 24, male(he/him); gentle & compassionate, capable & confident, prone to singing, whistling and humming, a big picture man, the runner of the pair, can be too willing to forgive and lacks skepticism.

5′8″, white man with a sturdy, thick build, bit of a belly, wide through the shoulders, short, curly brown hair, clean-shaven, wide-set dark brown eyes, slightly freckled, round face, thick, tapered eyebrows, small ears, nose small & rather rounded, standing stature usually squared but relaxed through the shoulders, expression open and relaxed on average, smiles often.

Miles grew up in Port Cassandra, in one of the cabins in the woods by the beach on the outskirts of Port Cassandra. He never knew his mother, and his father was neglectful, at best, physically abusive, at worst. He left home at 15 and spent the rest of his childhood living with the PCPD’s second-in-command, Joseph Sawtelle, and his family. He joined the city’s Police Department as soon as he was able, and Sawtelle acted as his mentor throughout the first few years of his service.

➤ Links:

Port Cassandra Location Intro Valentine’s Day Special Playlist & Excerpt Excerpt - Startled FFF: The Move Character Aesthetic - Alistair Sheep Character Aesthetic - Tobias Rigby Character Aesthetic - Daniel Morrin Character Aesthetic - Alistair Sheep - by Farrradays Art & Playlist - Alistair Sheep - by cr0wfood Worst Tag Game Intro - Alistair Sheep Miles Crawford Character Intro Alistair Sheep Character Intro

Excerpt, Cont. Character List, and Taglist below the cut!

Content Warnings: Sexual content, physical violence, gun & weapon violence, police violence (mostly cop on cop), unhealthy coping mechanisms re: abuse of cigarettes and alcohol, avoidance, repression. Homophobic language & violence. Abuse re: neglect, physical abuse, bad dads in general. Also war imagery & mentions. Murder, blood, and gore, of course. Fire, as well.

➤ Excerpt:

Alistair rotated the wheel and pulled into the thin dirt driveway to the left of the shack of a house they had been called to. The house appeared to sink into the forest that surrounded it, the look of it was so raw, wooden, and narrow. It looked like it belonged there, except for the glaring lights in the windows that cut through the twilight gloom.

It would almost be a peaceful sight, worthy of a postcard, if there weren't first responders hanging out on the front porch. An ambulance in the driveway. And now, the police cruiser he sat behind the wheel of. In the passenger seat, Officer Crawford, Miles, was looking at him again. Alistair straightened his back and cleared his throat.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just, you know, you looked like you had something on your mind."

"I assure you nothing is ever on my mind," Alistair said without thinking, and scowled when Miles immediately looked amused.

"Sure. Why don't we head in before they come looking to see whether we've died, too?" He said, tilting his head in the direction of the house.

"That joke is in extremely poor taste, Officer Crawford," Alistair drawled as he cut the engine and popped the car door open.

➤ Cont. Character List:

Emily Castaldi, 28, female(she/her), Alistair’s ex-wife, and childhood friend, with whom he still maintains an awkward and erratic relationship. perceptive, clever/witty, independent, works as a housekeeper at one of Port Cassandra’s struggling hotels.

Arthur Pimento, old(60′s?), male(he/him), Captain of the Port Cassandra Police Department, he was a very successful, heroic officer as a young man and won’t admit those days are gone. proud, strict, close-minded, sophisticated, unwilling to admit he’s not as capable as he used to be, married with adult children.

Joseph Sawtelle, mid-40′s, male(he/him), PCPD’s second-in-command, doesn’t feel as if he has as much of a sway over the department as he should. tired, resigned/reluctant, quiet, bitter, married with two feisty teenage daughters, mentor and parental figure to Miles.

Gentry Sinclair, late 30′s, male(he/him), PCPD Officer, family man who just wants to be friends with everybody. bright/cheerful, asks a lot of questions, wants to know the people around him well, Ken doll attractive, married with three young children, he will show people pictures of his family and babble about them.

Daniel Morrin, early 30′s, male(he/him), PCPD Officer, cocky with an ego the size of Texas and not above bullying behavior to get things his way. selfish/self-absorbed, very big and knows it(loves it), takes up way too much space and gets way too close, kind of an asshole all around, picks on everybody(”jokes”), gets along best with Rigby and Sinclair.

Tobias Rigby, late 20′s, male(he/him), PCPD Officer, served in the war and has never been seen with a woman he wasn’t related to. extremely reserved/quiet, says very little, very blunt and straightforward when he does open his mouth, short/small but can definitely kick your ass, frowny & mysterious.

Conrad Fitzgerald, early to mid-30′s, male(he/him), PCPD Officer, served in the war but was a Prisoner of War for most of it. a bit erratic, brazen, talks a lot, boxes in his spare time, has been seen by Alistair entering and leaving underground gay bars yet to be raided, charismatic in a relaxed way, married without kids.

Rosemary Fitzgerald, mid 30′s, female(she/her), Conrad’s wife. like her husband, considered a bit odd, smiles too much and talks too fast, paints skulls, only seen wearing dark colors, stubborn, comes to the Station too much.

➤ Taglist: @livingdeadwriteblr - @cawolters - @agnesfagen - @the-real-rg - @balletshoe-punk - @lie-hart - @phloxxiing - @teacupwriter - @newdivinities - @omgbrekkerkaz - @soul-write - @elisabethrosewrites - @cirianne - @ladywithalamp (ask to be added or removed!)

➤ Tagged: #Between His Fingers, #bhf, #bhf:wip

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jesslcover · 5 years ago

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H.E.A.L.T.H. What is it?

For many years, ive been trying to get all these beautiful inspiring stories out of my head and out into the public. I believe that I have a message and maybe my delivery is off but its there.... There is no right or wrong way to deliver a message because it truly comes down to the perception of the receiver, not you that creates the problem. If you have a message to share with the world.. share it, and if the world isn't ready, thats there issue, not yours. So here’s mine.... well a small piece of it...

Have you ever thought about what the true definition of health is? Is the worlds definition of health congruent with your own definition? How did you come to your own way of health or do you follow others and envision yourself as them maybe when you were completely out of balance with yourself. Or did you do research on ways to quick fix your health Hit?

There are so many ways we can view health and in each one of us, its different. Take a smoker of 30 years..... If you or someone you know has smoked for a very long time and are thinking about quitting, you know its gonna be stressful. Even if you are 100% committed to giving up the filthy habit and saying good rides, the body and mind are going to, at some point be in stress overload. The nasty chemical of nicotine has adapted inside your body and your cells feed off of them but then ll of a sudden, you are suffocating the fuel for which stimulated the craving when they were on empty... So your brain thinks, “feed me nicotine, feed me oral fixation.”

No patch, gum or physical ailment has ever been the true reason some someone killing the habit. The real healing and transformation comes from the energetic balance between what our mind is telling our body, and what forces surround us in our environment the controls our cravings within our body.

For 12 years, I smoked very heavy cigarettes. Not the Light to Ultra light brands but the stuff the big boys, construction workers, mechanics, Beer Bellied red necks, used to smoke. My mom allowed me to smoke as many cigarettes as I wanted, just as long as I only smoked cigarettes and nothing else.

In June 1999, after a car accident nearly caused my death, I was awaked into a new light and mindset. Still smoking cigarettes, going to church and attending local exercise classes, my perception to things was different.

After 4.3 drooling months of battling a disconnect of me headspace and my Mind Body Spirit connection being in OFF mode, I was turn on with more voltage and internal power than ever before.

In October 1999, 2.5 weeks after I was forced to drop out of high school, I was blown away that something so big, and active was living inside of my head. I asked myself, how could this tumor, be so unkind to just appear out of the blue and say, “That’s it Lady, POWER OFF.”

I was a senior in High School, passionate about hospitality, working for Marriott hotels 23-28 hours a week in front office operations and selling shoes at Nine West 13-17 hours/week M-F. Marriot was a Fri-Sat-Sunday job with Holidays for the additional overtime. After my accident, I lost my job at the shoe store however Marriott loved my positive energy and life force I expelled to guests while they checked in, even when I couldn't see over the front Desk front sitting in a chair from Pain. Although I felt much loved at this hotel, I would soon be discharged from here as well.

October 24th, 1999, after my first attempt to get my GED, the equivalent to a High School Diploma, I failed. I felt horrible with my life. I had no job because of my disability, I quit high school and barely saw my friends, no driver license because they were taking from me by the State of Ohio for safety of other drivers and I was smoking 2-3 packs of cigarettes a day. How was I able to come out of this mess and go from SURVIVING to THRIVING? It certainly wasnt some Miracle pill or Reconstructive Surgery that changed me from the outside to inspire my inside...... It came from within me! How I looked at the physical things around me, how I gave thanks to everything, even a bird dropping its poo poo on my head while trying to sunbathe next to my neighbors pool, or having a check for $3.84 bounce over a pack of cigarettes. What taught me the greatest life comeback in these scenarios.

It was a wet and muggy Wednesday morning in October, the 27th to be exact, when my mom dreaded waking at 745am to take me to get a second opinion from a doctor at the Cleveland Clinic office near my small hometown. She had finished work at 1130pm the previous night to only arrive home around 1215am from the heavy rain that evening. My first appointment was at 830am.

There were actually several appointments scheduled that day however my mom had to be at work by 1pm and wasnt able to take me to all of my appointments. After the first appointment, we decided to skip the potential MRI and take me to grandma’s house.

For the next 9 months, until June, the summer of 2000, I stayed with grandma. It was a much happier place to be. Grandma had 3 fun loving dogs, a pool with a beautiful wooden deck big enough for 5-7 lawn chairs, and my aunt Kathy living within walking distance. Kathy smoked and she was more like a smoking buddy. I was able to make some money mowing yards for the neighbors and helping grandma with the house and her dogs. In June, I got my driver license back and went on a mission to find a job that would give me independence away from everyone! It was the greatest stepping stone into womanhood I could've ever taken.

After attempting to retrieve my job with Marriott and being unsuccessful, an amusement park on the lake outside of cleveland contacted me for a summer job at one of their hotels in the park. Cedar Point is the PRIME ROLLERCOASTER park in the USA. Without hesitation, I took the job and moved 2.5 hours away in a cabin villa with 2 other girls, for the summer.

Cutting to the chase... at the end of the summer, I felt like i was ready to go back to school and try my HSD again. It didnt take long to see that, this wasnt supposed to be the option for me.

August 2000, just days before school was to begin, mom and I, her friend Cheryl and our long time neighbor were shopping for school supplies at our local Staples Store. Cheryl had MS and I took care of her also. Without her with us, my mom would've been in the Emergency room.

As we were walking out of the store, I started to dauntingly walk a different direction than my mom and Cheryl. Completely disconnect from the world, my mom said she continued to yell at me but I didn't listen. Was I not listening or did I not hear her?

In the moment when my mom gently grabbed my right shoulder to bring me toward our truck, I physically attacked her, bruised her face and she fell on the ground. Immediately she got back up and “started calling me names”, Cheryl said. Before we got to the truck, I came out of this brain freeze and began to ask my mom “Oh My God, what happened to you?”

You can imagine my mom’s confusion, frustration and contemplation as to why I seemed to disillusioned to the event. This object in my brain was moving again and this time caused a disconnect that changed my life traumatically, with myself and my mother.

A week before my Mom’s birthday, September 4, school had only jut begun and I was doing good until the long 3 days weekend for Labor Day. Labor day is the 1st Monday in September and my mom’s birthday happened to fall on that day however our doctors office was closed.

The very next day, with a luck of the draw, Dr Angerman, who I saw the previous years, had a slot open at 9am which my mom booked me without question. The findings were what had been daunting me for more than 15 months.

Ganglioglioma is low-grade tumor of mixed cell type. It is a type of brain tumor that contains properties of both glial cells (responsible for providing the structural support of the central nervous system) and neuronal cells (the functioning component of the central nervous system). It is very rare!! Being rare was one thing but with the location being life threatening inoperable, my mom burst into tears with fears of what to do with me.

My Ganglioglioma treatments included: Neurosurgery – to remove as much of the tumor as safely possible; surgery is often limited due to the deep, central placement of these tumors within the brain Chemotherapy – either before surgery to shrink the tumor or to kill cancer cells

Radiation therapy – precisely targeted treatment to control local growth of tumors; not recommended unless the child’s tumor has re-grown due to potential long-term side effects of therapy.

Cleveland Clinic has some of the most highly acclaimed doctors and surgeons in the world. They are one of the best trusted hospital resources for Neurological, Cardiac and Pulmonary operations. With a higher success rate than any other hospital affiliation on the entire planet, Dr Angerman relaxed my mom and assured her that I was in heaven’s hands. On March 12th, 2001, I became a successful survivor of this rare scare of a brain tumor however the end wasn’t close yet.

After 3 days, I was released from Cleveland Clinic Neurosurgery in Cleveland, Ohio, with 100% full confidence by Neurosurgeon Dr. Morris, that I would recover with no problems. March 16th, while at my grandmothers house, I had a stroke. I was paralyzed on the entire left side of my body for 6 weeks until April 29th 2001......

Dr Morris did an amazing job at my surgery and was the first person and step that gave me internal hope that led to my wellness path to what I call HEALTH however, it was the energy practices of Yoga& Pranayama, which no one in my red neck town had ever heard of), Mindfulness, Chiropractic, proper nutrition and guided imagery that allowed me to transform my mind, come back in tune with my body and provide positive feedback that would change my life, inside and out, forever.

It’s now 18.5 years later, Aug 2019, and my passion for helping people, inspiring wellness and Mind Body Medicine to everyone I meet, especially as a career, gains excitement everyday! My true meaning of HEALTH is Holistic Enhancements Aspiring Longevity Tranquility & Happiness. Because true health starts with me, not with money, a beautiful BMW, fancy vacations or diamonds... It starts at the HEART... tap deep within and you will win.... no matter what you are going through!

When we live life in a state of our own positive definition of HEALTH, whatever it may be, we are creating an art that is unique to us and us only, but its from the heart. Learn to BREATHE... and used the same formula components(letters) to BE HEART!

Sorry for any typos...

Namaste, Good Night friends.

#health #wellness #mindbodyconnection #thepowerofhealing #overcomingobstacles #lifechangingmoments #energymedicine #yogainspiration #iloveyoga #breathe #beaninspiration #survivingtothriving #cleveland clinic

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jinniesxlamp · 5 years ago

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Goodbye, Hello - Chapter 6

A/N: Hello, My loves! I know it’s been quite awhile since I’ve updated. Sincere apologies, I started going back to work again and it’s very much time demanding, barely sparing me any free time for myself. 😅 But it’s currently a four-day weekend for me so....multiple chapters coming your way! Enjoy. Comments/reactions are always welcome here.

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

Nothing but the warm weather was comforting at all today. Chairman Byeon sat nonchallantly, patiently finishing with the second letter that was handed to him a few minutes ago. Weeks have gone by since the replacement of Park In Jung and Y/N’s immediate promotion, in that time span, one would think naturally that things would start getting better which, again, was not the case at all. Once through, he sat the letter down on top of the first one on his table, searching for the eyes of the worn-out lady who handed them.

Y/N’s POV

I kept my head down, subtly avoiding eye contact with Chairman Byeon as he received both my letter of resignation from this project and my request for time off to fly to Jeju for Myunghwa’s death anniversary. It was good for a little bit, since he kept himself busy reading, but of course I had to meet his eyes after he finishes.

“Y/N-ssi” he said, innocuously.

“Dae, daepyonim?” I responded, half in a whisper.

Chairman Byeon had always been soft and non-intimidating, even when he’s establishing authority. I could feel his stares studying my tired feautures; the unfamiliar wrinkles that were starting to grow on my forehead, shadow-dim under eyes, bloodshot spider veins from my sclera and the distinct puffiness of my face. All of which he has never seen before. There was nothing but concern on his face.

“Can I ask you something?” He said, with a gentle, pacifying smile which I responded with a nod.

“Do you know why I hired you in this company?”

I was confused. Was this a trick question?

“Because it was a favor you did for Myunghwa.”

That was it, really.

Chairman Byeon and Myunghwa knew each other since they were little.

I was finishing my degree at Seoul University when Myunghwa was diagnosed with cancer, Soojin was only in high school. We were both adopted by Myunghwa who turned out to be the heiress of one of the biggest real estate brokerage firms in South Korea. To put it into imagery, she owned a quarter of the entire Gangnam area. She was never married, never had kids. I was her adopted daughter since the night she had found me. A few months later, she adopted a little girl, Soojin who was the daughter of one of her housemaids who had passed away in a car accident. Since then, Soojin and I had been inseperable, like actual siblings. When Myunghwa passed away, she donated most of her real estate wealth to charity organizations, some to the district of Gangnam and the rest of it which was cash, was left for Soojin and I. Over the years, I had finished my Masters degree and later, Soojin finished university. Timingly, I received a call from Myunghwa’s lawyer who gave me instructions according to the will—I was given a name and a number to call, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Next thing I knew, I was already starting as a rookie producer for one of the biggest companies in the industry along with Soojin who was my secretary.

A look of disappointment glistened in his modest eyes as he brought both of his hands together, trying to catch my eyes again.

“Until the day you will learn to look at yourself as you should, I apologize, but I cannot accept your resignation from this project.”

“D-daepyonim”

“I will wait until the day you will have the answer to my question. For now, you may take the rest of the week off. Send my heartfelt greetings to Myunghwa—

Also, Jeju is a beautiful place for meditation. Allow yourself to relax, Y/N. You have worked so hard.”

Yoongi’s POV

“Na wasseo” I announced, fatigued.

Hannam was usually quiet at this hour, disregarding Taehyung and Jungkook, of course who never fails to wake the entire household with their game antics. But somehow the noise I was hearing wasn’t the usual howls of gamers. Sliding on my house slippers, I curiously made my way towards the livingroom where the voices were.

“Oh hyung! Wasseo!” Waved Namjoon who had brought the late night visitor.

“Annyeonghaseyo” bowed Jackson Wang, who didn’t look too pleased right now. I returned the greeting and left to get a glass of water from the fridge.

“How was the recording with Suran?” Asked Hoseok, grimly staring at his laptop.

“It was a good start. But there’s still a lot to do”

“Oh wasseo” Jin hyung had entered the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for (most likely) beer. He passed both Hoseok and I a can each.

“How was the shoot today?” He asked.

“Good, good. She wasn’t there today” I nodded, leaning on the counter across Hoseok and beside Jin hyung who suddenly swung his arm around my shoulder.

“Min Yoongi—

He said closest to my ear, tapping on my shoulder.

I only asked about your day, not her.”

He had a smug on his face as he lifted his arm and left. I paused, internalizing what he had just said. Hoseok, who seemed to have heard everything had both his eyebrows raised, clearing his throat in amusement which I was too tired to comment on.

“I’m going to bed” again, I announced, passing by Hoseok then passing by the living room, where Jackson was still expressing his frustration.

“Ahh jeongmal! I still can’t believe he ditched me for that woman. I get it, she was in a bad shape, but he could have just dropped her off and came back. We planned this for months already!”

“Ya, do you know what you sound like right now? A jealous girlfriend. That’s what” Namjoon, with arms crossed and head turning from side to side finally decided to tell him off.

“Aniiiiiii, it’s just that, she just happened to be in the same place as we were, she wasn’t even asking for his company. She was someone he knew from work he said. But still! Why would you ditch a friend who you planned a whole night out with for a lonely, drunk woman with long, beautiful, brown hair and milky white skin who was sulking in peace on the bar counter?”

Namjoon’s brow raised, looking questionably at Jackson.

“Ya. So you’re telling me, that if you were in Lee Jooheon’s place, seeing a woman who had the exact description you had just given me....you wouldn’t have ditched him?”

Jackson was dimwitted at Namjoon’s reverse psychologic manipulation.

“Ani—kunde—ah molla!!!”

“Let it go Jackson, you would’ve done the same if you were him”

On the verge of entering my own bedroom, something he had said caught my attention.

“Arasseo, arasseo. I’ll let it go. She didn’t look like she could go home by herself anyway. He had to drive that woman’s silver BMW and left his car at the club.”

02:03 am

Not even the sound of crickets were heard, nothing but the shuffling of my sheets as I shifted to countless positions, trying to get myself to sleep. My eyes found themselves fixed at the ceiling while I thought of all the struggles we had to go through just to get here. Just to live this vivid dream. I remember when I used to wait at the cold bus stop, breathing out air from my empty stomach. And the nights when I would come home drained and tired, only to sleep on a thin mattress which I had to share with another body to keep warm.

Another body.

“Oppa, you eat my share of the food. You have to go to training while I only have to stay home. You need it more than I do”

“Oppa, kwenchana. You sleep on the mattress, your body is too sore from practice. I can sleep on the floor”

“Kwenchana”

I caught myself hearing voices from a long time ago, shaking my head vigorously to wake up from what felt like a dream.

It made me think again. Was it you Jackson was talking about? Yesterday’s events would have stressed you out too much. And I think I may have been unecessarily harsh with my words, only some though. You deserved to hear most of it. I took a deep breath, avoiding any amount of guilt to build inside my head.

It’s okay. Soon enough, we will say goodbye again.

Maybe even in silence.

Jooheon’s POV

How was it even possible for this woman to know her way home, even when being fully intoxicated?

I stared at her, seated on the passenger seat of her own car. Half asleep, half drunk. In the middle of my night out with Jackson, I happened to have found her swaying on the bar counter, taking three more shots from her seventh bottle of Soju. She was alone and it was late. There was no way she could get home safely at this state. I bid goodbye to Jackson, who decided to spend the rest of the night elsewhere. I took her home.

“Y/N, wake up. Let’s get you to your house”

She lived in a semi-luxurious apartment complex. After all, she was earning a pretty decent amout of money.

With her body still swaying and eyes blurry, the passcode she entered for the second time finally went through. We both entered her apartment, she clung onto my shoulder as I positioned her. I asked where her bedroom was, which she lead me to right away. I sat her gently on her bed, making sure she was safe from falling before turning back to leave.

Before I could take another step, I started hearing objects being dropped gently to the ground. Had I known what it was, I wouldn’t have turned.

Everything that covered her, she had stripped off her body. Almost everything, if I hadn’t stopped her.

“What are you doing?” I asked, sternly.

As a thoughtless man, I would have been flattered with the sight right in front of me. But the way her eyes contradicted with her actions and with her words reminded me to think rationally. What exactly was she doing right now?

“Go ahead. This is what you want, isn’t it?”

I didn’t bother to move, continuing to observe her from afar, until she stood up, walking towards me with tired but steady eyes. Placing her arms around my neck in only her lace underwear.

I felt blood rushing towards my upper body, sensing every inch of her skin on mine. Eyes locked with one another, but of course, I was the only one seeing things very clearly.

Yes. To answer her question, yes. This is what a man would want. This is what I want. But if I had asked her the same question, the answer would have been different.

Of course she didn’t want this. But she needed this to heal from whatever was hurting her.

According to her eyes, that is.

I was too lost in my own thoughts that I had not noticed her moving closer to me, pressing her lips on mine. Moving on her own while I fought my every urge to be still. After a while, I gently took her hands off my neck, gaining a dissatisfied look on her face. Brows furrowed in confusion.

“Mwo haneun geoya?” She asked, obviously offended.

I ignored her, taking my coat off, attempting to wrap it around her bare body which she refused, brushing my arm away, causing the box on her table to fall, scattering the contents on the floor.

“Get out” she said. I didn’t obey.

“I said, get out!” She said again, now yelling—tears falling down her face.

Again, I attempted to wrap my coat around her. This time with force. She fought my movements, but I held her onto my chest until she decided to give up, replacing her physical protests with heavy cries of pain.

I waited for her to fall asleep, thinking in between what would have caused this. A little bit past midnight, I decided to leave, seeing her peacefully resting. On my way towards the door, I noticed the scattered pieces of pictures and paper. Not wanting to ruin any of them, I started picking them up, throwing them into the box without a glace. The last piece was laying by her desk chair which I sat down to pick up. I failed to notice one end which was held down by the chair, causing the paper to rip.

“Aish” I cursed to myself, huffing in silence as I tried to take a look, wanting to see if it was completely ripped. It wasn’t my intention to read what was written on it, but somehow my eyes started to scan it on its own.

“I wish that you had taken everything with you when you left. The memories, the feelings, every thought of you. Especially your scent.

Why did it linger so much? It makes it so hard for me to breathe. Everything smells like you. Is it because every unforgettable thing I ever did, and every beautiful place I ever went was with you?

Alcohol, sheets and even the men I slept with. I hallucinate your scent on them. The alcohol makes me forget that you’re gone. The sheets remind me of your warm body, wrapped around mine and the men....It was always so easy to replace them with the thought of you—touching me, making love to me. Though the feeling never felt the same, and though it will never be the same....it will always help me get through the night without missing you too much. I missed you. I miss you. I will continue to miss you, Min Yoongi. Please come back to me.”

Now that I know, I understand.

I spared her one last glance, folding the ripped piece of paper, keeping it somewhere safer than her opened box of agony.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #min yoongi fluff #monsta x #lee jooheon #lee jooheon smut #lee jooheon angst #lee jooheon fluff

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artificialqueens · 3 years ago

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Better Than Revenge, Chapter 3 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Rosé learns Gigi, Symone, and Denali’s revenge origin stories

ao3 link

Woodstock, IL — 2016

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Hannah cooed, batting her lashes and resting her hand on Gigi’s thigh.

“How come? I didn’t come on too strong over text, did I?”

“Really? Tell me more,” Hannah prompted, kissing along her neck and jaw and slowly tugging Gigi’s shirt off in an attempt to coax her to continue.

“So like, what would you want someone to do to you?” she asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

It wasn’t from home, she had two missed calls from her best friend, Crystal, followed by several texts.

Crystal: GIGI STOP Crystal: SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Crystal: She’s broadcasting you on IG live! Crystal: We can see and hear everything…

“This feels very Mean Girls, I love it,” Crystal remarked as they taped page after page of the diary on lockers, walls, anywhere they could.

“Well, plan B was to go the Heathers route, so let’s just hope it works.”

Present Day

“Why don’t you tell her your story next, baby?” Gigi prompted.

Conway, AR — 2014

Symone watched her sister throw her bag over her shoulder and start to sneak out the window. “Look, I ain’t snitching or nothing, but I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You worry too much,” Lala brushed it off. “I’ll be fine, in bed by morning like nothing happened.”

“I don’t either,” Symone admitted quietly, frustrated at her inability to come up with an immediate solution. “But we’re gonna do our best to get you out of this, okay?”

Symone’s brows knitted together, her lips pressed into a fine line. “Don’t you worry baby,” she said after a moment, “they gon’ face consequences one way or another.”

It had taken most of spring break, but Symone finally had all of the pieces for her plan. “Not the most convoluted thing in the world, but it’ll get the job done,” she mused.

Lala looked at her sister, then at her desk and back. “Do I even wanna know where the hell you got coke from?”

“No, you do not.”

Her sister smiled softly and shook her head. “You really ain’t gotta do all that for me, you know?”

“I know,” she hummed, “not gonna stop me, though.”

Present Day

“Wow, that’s both selfless and hardcore,” Rosé remarked with an impressed nod. “Did she ever find out where you got the coke from?”

Symone laughed and shook her head. “Nah, that secret I’m taking to the grave.”

Denali tossed her hair off her shoulder and grinned softly. “Who, me?” she cooed, fluttering her lashes. “Well, it is kind of an interesting story…”

Nicky rolled her eyes and tossed one of the couch pillows at her head. “Stop flirting and get on with it already.”

Fairbanks, AK — 2011

Denali groaned when the sound of loud footsteps racing up the stairs pulled her from her quasi-asleep state, then pulled a pillow over her head when the door swung open.

“Did you eat anything unusual?”

The skater scowled, her jaw clenched. “She’s a dead cunt,” she corrected, then suddenly shot out of bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered as she raced to the bathroom yet again.

“Remember,” she was saying, “if all else fails, we go the Tonya Harding route.”

Kahmora tilted her head as she watched her. “Do you actually think it’ll take her out of the competition?” she asked as her friend put the leaves and gloves into the ziploc bag.

“Otherwise you’d Tonya Harding her?”

When the news broke that Tara had withdrawn from the competition due to ‘unexpected physical problems’, Denali did her best to feign shock and didn’t celebrate until she and Kahmora were alone.

“So, what do you wanna do now?” Kahmora asked.

Denali tilted her head in thought, then smirked. “Let’s go get brownies.”

Present Day

“Personally, I still think you should’ve busted her knees,” Mik mused offhandedly. “Like, I bet you would’ve figured out a way to get away with it, you conniving bitch,” he teased.

Denali shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s not very original and it’d look a lot more suspicious on my end.”

“Yeah, and now Jackie ties you up instead,” Nicky teased, earning an eye roll in response.

#rpdr fanfiction #better than revenge #joley #rosnali #gigi x symone #rosé #denali foxx #gigi goode #symone #lesbian au

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arrow-guy · 7 years ago

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The Lighthouse (1/??)

Summary: The town is sleepy, the people are nice enough, but life gets turned upsidedown when the God of Thunder literally falls out of the sky.

A/N: Alrighty, so this is going to be a several part fic, but I have yet to know how many parts there will be. Regardless, please enjoy!!

Pairing: ThorxReader

Word Count: 2244

Warnings: None

My dad chose to take over this lighthouse for a reason. For the longest time, I couldn’t understand why. Three years since he’s passed, and I finally understand what really sold him on this place.

Leaning on the railing around the top of the lighthouse, I watch the sun rise across the water. My cat, Charles, winds through my legs before jumping up onto the railing and rubbing his cheek against my shoulder. I scratch under his chin as Daisy sidles up and plops down beside me, leaning heavily against my leg. She acts like a puppy, but the graying fur around her muzzle betrays her.

It's always calm like this in the early hours of the morning. When I wake up to turn off the light, I am gifted with the privilege of watching the world wake up. I wasn't really a morning person until I had to take over maintenance from my father.

Charles leans up and bumps his nose against my cheek, pulling my attention away from the sunrise.

“What?”

He meows loudly and butts his head against my shoulder.

“Use your words.” He lets out a long mrow and stomps his little foot against the railing. “Are you hungry?” Daisy barks out her own response before Charles can do anything and her tail wags so hard half her body moves with it.

I laugh and shake my head, turning away from the railing. I open the door into the house and Charles and Daisy immediately rush past me, making a beeline for the stairwell. I follow them down the massive spiral staircase to the base and first floor of the lighthouse that houses the kitchen. Both of my furry friends sit beside their bowls, looking at me expectantly. I raise my eyebrows at them and Daisy just barks, her tail wagging quickly behind her. I smile at the both of them before grabbing the bags of food and scooping a serving into each bowl. While they’re occupied by their food, I scoop up their water dishes and dump the day old water down the sink. For a short time, the only sounds in the kitchen are of Daisy and Charles crunching away on their kibble and me refilling their water. By the time I replace their water dishes, Charles and Daisy are waiting patiently for their drink.

I leave Charles and Daisy on their own and head outside to check on the damage from last night’s storm. We’ve always had harsh storms on a regular basis around here, but last night was particularly crazy. The wind speeds were higher than they’ve been in almost ten years and the thunder and lightning have never been brighter or louder the entire time I’ve lived here.

“(Y/N)!” Sheriff Green calls to me from across the road.

I wave back and quickly cross the street. “Hey, how is everything this morning? Are all of the houses alright?”

He nods. “All the telephone poles and wires are fine. Thankfully no one was hurt either.”

I sigh in relief. “Thank goodness. I was scared we'd have to start a search and rescue. Daisy’s too old to be of much help these days anyway.”

He laughs lightheartedly. “Sure was one helluva storm.” He scratches the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. “Come to think of it, there really shoulda been more damage.”

“Maybe it should have, but it didn’t. Let’s not think about it too much, yeah?” I offer him a smile. “Call it a gift from the gods and hope for the same tonight.”

He shakes his head, a smile replacing his frown. “You’re right. I’m gonna go make my rounds. Call if you need anything, alright?”

“Of course. Tell Hank I said hi!”

He nods once before he climbs into his squad car and drives away. I look up and down the street, only finding evergreen tree debris and a few broken tree branches here and there, but nothing entirely out of the ordinary after a storm of the size we had last night. The sheriff is right, there should be way more damage than there is. The last time something on this scale found us we were clearing streets for almost a week and Ms. Alderson had to have her roof repaired after the wind blew a tree right over and into her house. Maybe we just got lucky? Maybe there really is something or someone looking out for us.

I feel the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up. And I shake my head. It has to be electricity built up in the atmosphere from the storm. Either that or a ghost just passed by with a really big balloon and rubbed it all over me without me noticing.

I laugh quietly at the imagery and shake my head once more before crossing the road again and heading back into the lighthouse.

Charles and Daisy are waiting patiently for me at the door. They look at me expectantly and I snort before moving past them to put the dishes from dinner last night in the dishwasher. Behind me, I can hear Daisy’s nails click along the hardwood floor before she flops down with a soft huff. I look over and Daisy has her head resting on her front paws. Charles is curled up on her back. The two of them have been close since we brought Charles home from the shelter. I think it has something to do with Daisy thinking he’s a very small, gray puppy, but I won’t want to say anything and ruin it for her.

Help him.

I whip around, eyes darting around the room, only to find no one there.

I squint at the empty room before drying off my hands and moving on to cleaning up the living room.

There isn’t much to do. I only have to put the pillows back and vacuum. Both Charles and Daisy steer clear of the living room while the vacuum is going. When I finish I decide to refold the blanket on the back of the couch. At this point Charles runs in and curls up on the recliner, ignoring me as I put the vacuum back in the closet.

When I sit down on the couch, Charles decides that my lap is a better resting place than the recliner and plops down on top of me. I roll my eyes and allow my head to fall against the back of the couch.

That was not a request. Help. Him.

The voice comes again. I jolt upright and feel my stomach lurch.

“What?”

Help him.

“Who?”

Unimportant. Help him.

I scowl at nothing, realizing that I’m probably talking to myself.

“Fine. Where is he?”

The forest.

“The one to the east?”

Yes.

I sigh loudly before hauling myself up off of the couch and yanking the closet door open, grabbing my hoodie and shoving my arms into the sleeves. I layer a thick flannel shirt over top and sling my canvas bag over my shoulder. I stomp into the kitchen and put on the rain boots waiting by the back door. Daisy looks up at me as I’m shoving some breakfast into my bag along with my wallet and phone. She lets out a whine and I look over at her, eyebrows raised.

“What?” She whines again, sitting up and looking at me with interest. “You wanna go on an adventure?”

She stands up and barks twice, her entire body wagging. I shake my head and grab my keys from the hook near the door. As soon as the door is open, Daisy brushes past me and pads over to the truck before turning around to look at me expectantly. I snort in amusement and flip the “Welcome” sign over so that it says “Away" before following after my elderly dog and locking the door.

I open them passenger door for Daisy and close it as soon as she's sat herself on the bench seat. I yank open the driver's door and plop down in my own seat before pulling the door closed. I let my bag fall to the floor of the cab, shove the key into the slot and start the engine.

The full effect of the storm is evident as I drive through town.

Bits of tree branches are strewn everywhere, hanging off of telephone wires and stuck in places that seem impossible. People who are out cleaning up the debris wave to me as I drive through and I wave back before moving on.

It takes maybe fifteen minutes to reach the outskirts of town and I’m finally able to turn off onto the highway. Practically stomping on the gas pedal, I tear down the road, trying to reach my destination as quickly as possible. The voice, however disembodied it may be, sounded worried about whoever it was they’ve sent me to help albeit somewhat demanding and impatient.

I can feel the little hairs stand up all over my body like static electricity the closer I get to the forest.

I park on the side of the road, close to the mouth of the trail. I grab my bag and hop out of the truck before moving around to the other side and opening the door for Daisy. As soon as she jumps down from her seat, I close the door and lock the car.

Standing at the head of the trail I scowl at the path that slowly disappears maybe fifty feet in and wonder why the hell I listened to a disembodied voice. Why I'm out here, looking for a mystery man, instead of helping with cleanup and prep for the next major storm that's bound to hit within the next couple of days.

Because you're curious. The voice says. It almost sounds smug.

“Hey, you don't know me.”

I don't have to. You are a human and, therefore, curious by nature.

“Whatever.” I grumble. “It's not like I haven't been labeled the crazy girl before.”

Daisy let's out a soft noise and heads into the forest on the trail.

“Where do you think you're going without me?” I question. Daisy barks once.

Your companion knows where she is going.

“Yeah, shut up.”

I will, if you'll just get on with your task.

I sigh loudly and follow Daisy down the trail. “I swear, if this guy is some kind of psycho murderer, I will riot.”

The voice is silent, but the further I get down the trail, the stronger the feeling of built up static electricity becomes. At one point, I notice small portions of my hair floating up and away from my head and I have to smooth it back down.

Daisy suddenly stops in the middle of the trail, her tail still, nose in the air. She sniffs around before switching to sniffing at the ground.

“What is it?”

She lifts her head again and sniffs the air once more, barks twice, and then races off into the forest.

Worried, I immediately run after her at full speed, doing my best to keep up with her. She turns off the trail abruptly and I almost crash into a patch of blackberry bushes trying to turn in time to follow her. I quickly right myself and stumble through the underbrush, trying to keep Daisy in sight as we push on towards our goal.

I push aside an evergreen bough and almost trip over Daisy where she’s standing at the edge of a clearing. After a moment of flailing arms in an attempt to keep myself balanced, I take stock of the clearing I’m standing in, only to realize it’s not a clearing, but a massive crater.

I let out a low whistle, slowly scanning the crater. “This is some major New Mexico shit,” There’s something in the middle of the crater, smaller than a deer, larger than a wolf, and entirely unmoving. Daisy whines and paces along the edge of the crater. She stops and looks to me before turning her attention to the unmoving figure in the middle of the crater.

You’ll have to go down there.

“I what,”

He’s down there. You have to help him.

“Oh, well that’s fantastic,” I crouch down and slowly inch my way to the edge of the crater, only to lose my footing and slide halfway down the wall before I manage to grab hold of a stray root and stop my progress. I laugh shakily and pull myself up into a sitting position, scrub a hand over my face, and try to compose myself.

Watch your step.

“Thanks, disembodied voice, you’re a great help.”

Gritting my teeth, I manage to haul myself back up to my feet, and I begin to carefully pick my way down the side of the crater. I lose my footing a few times, sandy soil crumbling underneath my boot, but I don’t fall again. I manage to make it to more even ground without any more slip ups and jog over to the figure in the middle of the crater. They’ve got long golden hair and they’re wearing what could look like jeans and a t-shirt if you squint real hard and close one eye.

“Who the hell is this guy?” I mutter, squatting down and carefully rolling him over. His head rolls to the side and I feel my heart stop. The god of thunder is unconscious in my backyard.

------

Part 2

I know this part was slow, but it should pick up from here! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

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