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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months ago

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Hello! How have you been lately? I hope you sleep well and eat tasty food!

I wanted to participate in your new blog event. I want to see interaction between ~deadbeat dad~ Crowley and our dear uncles, ghosts from Ramshackle dorm. You can decide which topic they will be talking about, I just wanna see ghosts more in twst fandom. They're so rare to see and it upsets me(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू) give more application to our ghosts! 👻👻👻

(I hope I wrote this right how it supposed to be wrote in this event. Sorry for grammar errors)

... I was going to include the Ramshackle Ghosts in the banner, but couldn't find any chibi sprites of them that were high res enough to use. That's it, that's my commentary 🙂

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

Ramshackle was a marked improvement from its sorry state in the autumn. The cobwebs, dust, and mildew had been cleared away, as if done by the hand of a benevolent fairy godmother. Rotting wood had been replaced with fresh panels, and the walls were coated with a glossy new color. The paintings and furniture had either been restored or replaced, antiques polished and set back up on display.

It's almost like Ramshackle before its ruin, Crowley noted, shutting the door behind him.

He strutted a few paces in, his cane clacking sharply against the floorboards. Crowley cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the foyer, then called out. "Ghosts?"

A reply came at once, accompanied by a cool sensation spiderwalking down Crowley's spine. This, he knew, was the telltale sign of a supernatural being's arrival.

Three pale bodies materialized before him. One tall and scrawny, the second small and compact, and the third wide and squat. Each ghost--A, B, and C--wore a top hat and a cloak.

"Mweeheehee... You rang, headmaster?"

"Aaah, there's my lovely Ramshackle trio!!" Crowley cooed, spreading his arms out with a flourish. "Good afternoon! I hope you're doing well."

"As well as we can be in the afterlife," Ghost A cackled.

"We weren't expecting visitors," C remarked.

"What brings ya here?" B floated around Crowley in a circle. "Rare for you to drop on by for a casual visit."

"Ah, that." He thoughtfully stroked at his chin. "Today is Family Day at Night Raven College and--well--I figure that you three upstanding gentlemen count as the guardians of our dear Prefect and Grim-kun. You live under the same roof, share household responsibilities, and have a deep bond. You may not be related by blood, but this arrangement could classify as a 'found family'. That would make you eligible to sit in at parent-teacher conferences."

"Oooh, are we being invited to the event?" Ghost A asked excitedly. "I was popular with the ladies back in my day, but I didn’t have the chance to do something like this. Never did manage settle down..."

"Can we really be where the people are?" B chimed in. "It's been a while since we got to stretch our ectoplasm. When was the last time? Halloween, was it?"

"But all those meetings sound like a bore," complained C. "You sure we can't just scare the daylights out of the parents and siblings instead?"

"There will be NO scaring the daylights out of anyone!" Crowley stopped himself and smoothed down his feathers. "As you can imagine, I'm a very busy man and I haven't got all day! Please make your decisions now."

The Ramshackle Ghosts glanced at one another. Murmurs passed between them.

"Well... They don't have anyone else but us, do they? Because Yuu-kun is from another world and Grimmy doesn't remember where he came from."

"They've always been there for us when we needed them the most. We've had so much fun together too. Keeping us company, playing magift, celebrating Halloween and the winter holidays..."

"It'd be sad if they were the only ones left out of Family Day. No one likes being excluded from the festivities."

Silence. Then mutual understanding lit up their eyes. The answer was staring at them right in the face this entire time.

"We'll do it!!" the ghosts cried in unison.

Crowley's lips curved upward. "A most excellent choice. Yuu-kun and Grim-kun are so very fortunate to have a family as loving as this."

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Dire Crowley #Ramshackle Ghosts #NRC Family Day #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios

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anonymous-dentist · 11 days ago

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Blood Moon

The rain, supposedly, is made of blood near the Vampire Castle.

Honestly? Bullshit, the rain is rain, and the moon is the moon, and Roier is going to die, and it's all normal. The grass is just as green as the grass back home is. The stars are the same; Roier waves goodnight to the same sun he's known his entire life when it sets every night.

It's kiiind of disappointing, t-b-h. Roier wants blood. He's going to the Vampire Castle: he wants blood.

The castle itself isn't that disappointing, at least: its tall black stone towers almost seem to touch the stars, and the roofs are the color of freshly-spilled blood.

It's all red: roofs, trees, gates, windows. The flowers planted along the path leading to the castle's broken bridge are red. The ragged banners hanging from the parapets are red. The dim, dying lanters dangling from the trees' skeletal overhanging branches are red.

Castelo Arabutã: the Vampire Castle.

Roier looks at the bones scattered among the road's ruined pavestones, and he smiles.

And then he looks back at the destroyed bridge in front of him, and his smile falls.

(A small hand tugs on the back of his coat impatiently: "Come on, Apa, you're too slow! I'm bored!")

The sun continues to set, complaining its way behind the horizon even through the growing storm clouds. The rain continues to fall. The wind continues to blow, tossing the tails of Roier's headband about like an impatient child.

There's a single light on in one of the castle's towers. It dances, laughing, and Roier is just a little homesick.

But, he figures, he can't die the way he wants back home.

So: onwards!

The bottomless pit beneath the bridge beckons him.

Roier tightens his backpack's straps and reties his boots. He cracks his neck and adjusts his headband.

He waves one final "Goodnight!" to the sun, and he silently asks it to watch over its mother for him.

And then he cracks his neck, lets out a breath, runs, and jumps.

The castle's front doors are easily the size of three Roiers stacked on top of each other. They're big and red and imposing and Quackity would probably be pissing himself at the sight of the literal actual gruesome murder scenes carved into the wood: there's a decapitation, two separate dudes getting sawed in half via the asscrack, a spike getting shoved up a different dude's ass... all that and more just on the square meter or so directly in front of Roier's face.

The door's knocker is a screaming skull cast in black iron.

Roier's hand only briefly hesitates over the knocker before grabbing it and, well, knocking.

THUNK-THUNK-THUNK

The moon starts to rise, cutting silver through the storm, and Roier, finally, is ready to die.

Every child in the Federation knows about the Vampire King. He was born out of blood in a battle thousands of years ago, back before the Federation was even formed. His name was discarded when his humanity was; he's hardly anything more than a bloodthirsty tyrant these days, plotting to destroy the Federation and restore his fallen kingdom with absolutely no considerations aimed towards the common people outside of what blood types they might have.

Famously, the Vampire King kills anyone who visits his castle: vampire hunters, lost travelers, curious historians. Idiots.

Roier knocks again, knuckles white.

THUNK-THUNK-THUNK

Roier's abuelo was a vampire hunter, now forcefully retired and in prison for treason. Roier's best friend (..."friend") is still a vampire hunter. Roier has gone through the training himself, and his son was supposed to start it in the upcoming fall.

Once upon a time, Roier was supposed to be a hunter. Then he met Jaiden.

Now, he's doing what every Federation citizen knows not to do, and he's knocking on the Vampire King's front door.

Thunder rolls, and Roier drops his hand from the knocker and slips it into his coat pocket. His fingers wrap around a loose coin and start flipping it between themselves idly as he waits.

And, oh, he waits.

Nobody knows what the Vampire King looks like. Paintings back home portray him as some tall skinny old man with cheekbones sharp enough to cut a steak with. Roier's abuelo said that he looks like how a cat would look if it was turned into an ugly man by an evil wizard. Cucurucho never spoke of him, probably because they've always been pissy about their twin brother having a huge embarrassing crush on Roier.

What Roier does know is this: the Vampire King is apparently really bad at answering the door.

(Besides, it doesn't matter what he looks like. All Roier cares about is how sharp his teeth are.)

Lightning.

Roier jumps and swears as it strikes a tree back across the bridge and catches it on fire.

He turns to look at it, eyes widening as the tree's leaves all seem to shake the fire off of themselves like a dog coming in from the rain.

Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck starts to stand on end. His abuelo always told him that he had good instincts, so-

The door opens with a rush of wind and a screamed CREEEAK!! and a cold hand grabs Roier by the back of his coat and then, suddenly, abruptly, suddenly, he's getting dragged inside the castle by a force so strong that it has to be otherworldly.

Roier fights and kicks and reaches out on instinct towards the door even as it shuts, closed by an unseen force.

And then he stops fighting because he remembers, right. He's here for a reason.

He goes limp just in time to be let go and spun around by a hand on either one of his shoulders.

He blinks a few times in surprise as he comes face-to-face with... a guy.

A very pathetic-looking guy.

"Please tell me that you're the babysitter," he begs, a faint accent to his voice that clues him out as distinctly not from the Federation.

His fingers curl into the red fabric of Roier's coat desperately- black painted nails, bitten short.

"Um," says Roier, looking vaguely over the very stressed man's shoulder for the guy supposed to kill him.

The inside of the castle is... nice? Large throne in the middle of the room with a toy bear on the seat. Professionally-done paintings alongside childlike sketches. Crayons and pieces of paper scattered across the floors. A couple of miniature toy cows next to an unpolished, bloody suit of armor.

(His heart clenches, and he fights back tears. It won't do to cry right before dying, that's sad as hell and not how Roier wants to go out!)

There's a faint crash from upstairs and a laugh, and the extremely tired-looking man in front of Roier sighs and hangs his head.

He's... nice? Nice looking. Definitely someone Roier would be more interested in looking at if he wasn't two seconds away from his planned demise: slightly curly hair with a rather charming white streak in it, pierced ears. But then there are the circles under his eyes and the scabs on his lips and-

"I will literally give you a hundred sovereigns if you can get him to go to sleep," the man pleads, looking Roier right in the eyes.

-and the fangs.

Roier is still holding onto his coin, somehow. He squeezes it until the grooves on its sides dig into his palm.

"I don't even care if you're the babysitter," the Vampire King groans, backing off and scrubbing his face with his hands. "I'm just- Richas!"

He snaps his head up and shouts at the ceiling. Roier doesn't know what he's saying, and he definitely doesn't know what the... what the child in the room above them is saying back- are they speaking Purtuguse? Does Roier know Purtuguse?

The Vampire King has a nice side profile. His sleeves are stained brown with long-dried blood, and his vest is stained with blue paint.

Roier wants to cry.

He lets go of the coin and swallows a lump in his throat.

He offers the Vampire King a very charming smile and says, "Lead the way."

(Because he may have come to the castle to die, but he will never subject a child to the sound of someone's last moments.)

The Vampire King looks about ready to cry out of relief as he flips his cape and starts walking towards a side hallway and a red brick staircase leading up, up, and away.

Roier follows. What else can he do?

The Vampire King rambles as they walk, "I don't actually sleep, Pac probably already told you about this, but Richas does, but I don't know how to get a human to sleep anymore, and he won't sleep, and I can't work until he's asleep, and..."

And he keeps talking. He doesn't even seem to realize he's doing it, he's almost delirious in his exhaustion. (Because that's what he has, exhaustion, Roier was a soldier for long enough to know the signs when he sees them.)

Roier tries not to think about the fact that the Vampire King does not, in fact, look like an old man or a cat man or however Cucurucho imagines him. He looks like somebody Roier would have met at Maxo's tavern on a Friday night, or one of the army's reject drafts.

He's short. He's wearing heeled boots, and Roier is still taller than him. Not by much, but! The Vampire King!

The stairwell is long and winding and decorated with dark sigils and painted smiley faces.

The door at the top of the stairwell is bright blue and definitely cleaner than the rest of the castle seems to be. It's... new. Roier thinks. New, and blue.

The Vampire King stops right in front of the door and knocks once, says, "Richas, the babysitter is here."

"Fuck the babysitter!" the child inside shouts.

The Vampire King shoots Roier an apologetic look. His eyes don't look like they're... all there. He's seeing, but he isn't seeing. He's tired, and Roier almost feels bad for him. Almost.

"His other dad always puts him to bed," the Vampire King softly explains. "But Felps is..."

His eyes start to drift, and, for a moment, he actually looks like he's about to cry.

Roier, not willing to watch his future killer have a depressive breakdown, walks right past him and opens the door and walks right into the kid's room with absolutely no thoughts in his head.

He easily dodges a squishy horse toy thrown at his head and leans up against a little wooden desk, hands slipping into his pants' pockets. He looks the kid, stood on top of his bed in a pair of bright yellow pajamas, up and down.

"Hey," Roier says.

He ducks his head to the side to avoid a cow to the head.

The Vampire King slips into the room and closes the door behind him, probably trying to avoid an escape attempt.

The kid points at him accusingly. "You're locking me in here!"

"You need to sleep," the Vampire King sighs. "See? The babysitter agrees."

He nods towards Roier, who just sort of goes along with it, because what else can he do? He doesn't care about anything anymore, what's wrong with going along with the bit?

The kid huffs and flops down so he's sitting criss-cross on his bed. "I don't know him."

"And I don't know you," Roier shrugs. "Doesn't mean I can't get you to go to sleep. I have my ways."

The kid narrows his eyes. "If you touch me, you're dead."

(Gods, he's just like...)

"I don't need to touch you," Roier says. "See, I'm not just a babysitter. I'm also a monster hunter, and I just saw a monster outside."

To the kid's credit, he doesn't super react. But he's also a literal child, and Roier is a literal dad; he knows how to read a kid's face better than he knows how to read a damn book.

Roier pushes off of the table and starts pacing, looking around the room as if looking for a monster.

"It was tall," he continues, voice dropping slightly in volume as he decides to play this shit up, "and its eyes were made of glass. It was looking up at your window and licking its lips because it's the most dangerous monster of all."

He looks around some more before dramatically leaning in and whispering to the kid, "El Mariana."

The child gasps as if he knows what that is.

The Vampire King bites his lip to hold back a smile.

Roier nods, dead serious (pun intended, thanks.) "Mhmm. It's outside waiting to get in and eat you, but! I'm sure you know this, but it can't see you if you can't see it."

The Vampire King adds, "He's right. I saw it, too, that's why I brought him inside. And you know I hate guests."

The kid shuffles slightly towards his pillows and blankets, all piled on top of each other at the end of his bed.

"The best way to trick El Mariana is to close your eyes," Roier explains. "It'll think that you're asleep, and it won't eat you."

The child looks up at the Vampire King. "But it won't get into the castle, right?"

The Vampire King sighs, "I don't know, Richas. Normally, no, but I haven't been able to get Bagi here to fix the wards. Anything can get in."

"I know I'm going to go find someplace to sit down and close my eyes in until morning," Roier says. "I don't wanna get eaten, thanks."

There's an awkward silence as the child looks up at Roier, eyes narrowed in thought.

And then, thankfully, he nods and starts to lay down and adjust his pillows until they're comfy.

"Fine," he grumbles.

He looks up at the Vampire King and adds, "You better get the magic fixed before Pai Felps gets back. He won't taste very good."

The Vampire King nods. "Of course, I'll write to Bagi as soon as the monster is gone."

With one last unhappy grunt, the child closes his eyes, and the room's candles immediately, magically dim.

The Vampire King lets out a relieved breath and slips out the door, leaving it open for Roier to follow.

As they make their ways back down the tower, Roier awkwardly says, "Uh, so..."

The Vampire King nods. "Right, the sovereigns. Give me a..." (He yawns.) "...a minute and I'll get them to you. But you shouldn't leave until the morning, it's a little nasty outside."

On cue, lightning flashes outside so brightly that it turns the vampire's skin translucent.

The Vampire King yawns again, showing off his fangs.

Roier gulps, out of sight behind him.

Who else does he trust to murder him but the most murderous guy on the planet? No one else will get the job done. Everyone else has morals. The Vampire King, famously, does not.

The Vampire King, apparently, is near delirious from exhaustion.

He wont be a good killer now. Roier... should wait until he's more awake. Then, he might even be violent about it.

Casually, Roier shrugs and says, "I dunno, I might stick around for a bit. You need a babysitter, right?"

The Vampire King turns his head to look at him, and Roier just smiles.

Who knows? Maybe he'll get lucky and get slaughtered in his sleep.

(Maybe then he'll get to tuck his own son into bed again...)

#spiderbit #guapoduo #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#tw: suicidal thoughts #it's a bit of a dark fic...#blood moon au

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cleanroo · 8 months ago

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#restoration coatings #roof coatings san jose ca #solar restoration

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4squareroofing · 1 year ago

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Great post about home improvement companies located within the Greater Nashville - Davidson county, TN contractor’s specializing in roof repair, roof replacements in Residential roofing! -

How to choose a good home remodeling company?

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Address-2056 Hickory Brook Dr, Hermitage, TN 37076, United States

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notjustjavierpena · 2 years ago

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Three Times You Didn’t Kiss Joel - And One Time You Did - Part I: Introductions

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Enjoy the beginning of a four-chapter fic, where a cute summer romance starts! This is the same universe as Hurried Morning but before! Chapter two and three are just waiting to be posted.

Summary: Joel helps you restore your grandparents' house over the summer. He has big strong arms.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 no smut but mature thoughts (minors DNI), pining, summer romance, DILF Joel, sexual tension, idiots in love

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47914783/chapters/120803500

Chapter One: Introductions

The house had been empty for a while when you had moved in. The location was good, somewhat quietly charming as the suburbs were, but the house’s neglect called desperately for a loving hand to bring out that charm again, which had been allowed to fade for too long. It wasn’t that the house had been willfully neglected by you, no you had wanted the house for a long time, but the whole scenario of you ending up here had been long and ridiculous: Your older brother had finally, out of the goodness of his heart, offered it to you, but only after a few years of having been in doubt about whether or not to move into it with his family. He had only gotten first say in the fate of the old place, because he was the oldest of the two of you, a thing that he liked to remind you of.

The house was overly suburban, missing only a wisteria bush and a fresh coat of paint, additionally, perhaps, a good amount of effort put into the garden as well. It was going to be a time-consuming summer project, but one that you were excited about because of its potential end result.

The house was all paid off by your grandparents, but after the passing of your grandfather some years ago, your grandmother had felt like the house was too overwhelming to live in all by herself, so she had found some place smaller and left the fight of inheritance to your mother, who had then passed it onto you and your sibling. The fact that you had now won that fight was ironic; you would end up alone in a house that your grandmother found too overwhelming to be alone in.

You step out of your car after parking it in the driveway, walking around its back to open the trunk and start unloading its contents. It is half your latest salary worth of a Home Depot haul.

You head to the garage door, knowing that your grandfather used to have a workbench inside and you need tools to assemble some of the things you have bought, amongst other a stepladder that you hope to build without too much trouble.

Though the lock at the bottom of the garage door is already doing its job of causing trouble, and you curse quietly as you have to put everything onto the ground at your feet to use both hands on it. The lock struggles for a moment but then clicks, and you finally pull up the garage door until you can duck underneath it with ease.

You get a feeling of someone watching you as you drag two buckets of white paint into the garage, following with a new set of brushes and paint rollers.

The feeling grows stronger as you reemerge from the garage and you start to hear muffled voices nearby too, but you ignore it due to how much you have scheduled for today. Additionally, you would admit in all honesty that you would be staring at the single woman neighbor too, if she was struggling with the garage door and making a fool of herself. You push your curiosity away and reach into the car trunk again.

“Hey,” it’s the voice of a teenage girl. You jump and nearly hit your head against the roof of the vehicle, and she chuckles a little in a way to seem cooler than she is, “Oh, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, but you just looked like you needed a little help and I wanted to offer. Well, my dad told me not to.”

“It’s alright, I’m grown. I can handle myself,” you stand up a little straighter to properly look at the teenager, giving her a smile to reassure her that you’re cool too. She’s around fifteen, kindest eyes you’ve ever seen in a girl her age, a mess of curls and her thumbs tucked into the belt loops on her jeans. She looks shy, but something tells you that she isn’t. You realize that you are staring, then hold out a hand and introduce yourself.

“I just moved in, inherited the place from my grandparents,” you add as the teen shakes your hand.

“I’m Sarah, we live just a house away. There,” she points to a nearby home, where a man is standing against one of the posts on the front porch. He has his arms crossed over his chest but you’re too far away to read his expression. Sarah continues, “Oh, right, that’s my dad. Yikes, that stance makes him look like a jerk.”

“Perhaps a little,” you laugh genuinely and Sarah beams at your approval. She raises her arm and waves her father over, who protests against it at first by waving his arms no, but then capitulates and walks over to you.

“Joel Miller,” he states as he approaches, holds out his hand and you repeat your name, trying to grab his hand for a shake, but it ends up the other way around with the size of his palm. Joel’s hands are huge and rough, calloused in a way that makes you guess that he doesn’t sit in an office all day. He has a firm grip, and you catch yourself watching the way that the muscles of his underarm flex when he holds your hand in what feels like an instant.

He doesn’t notice you staring at all, but you wonder if it’s because he is so used to it; Joel Miller is gorgeous, scruffy and sexy in his washed-out jeans and a simple army green t-shirt. You wish that you had worn something other than your dark blue t-shirt with a Batman logo, but a sundress would not have been practical for assembling stepladders and carrying tools.

“We were wonderin’ when we were gonna see someone move in,” he speaks with a Texan accent. It suits him very well, “I’ve wanted to paint the surface several times last summer, would be a shame to have it crack if you had the opportunity to save it.”

“I could use some help, honestly. My grandma moved somewhere smaller because it was too much work to be alone here,” you run a hand over your hair, brushing a strand behind your ear. Sarah looks from you to her father, and then back to you again.

“Maybe that’s our summer vacation!” She exclaims. Joel turns quickly towards her.

“Sarah, honey,” he warns but she just continues without a hint of hesitation, sporting childlike enthusiasm and innocence.

“But you said that we needed something to do together this summer, and we couldn’t afford a trip somewhere,” she reasons excitedly, “This is perfect. Very movie-esque, you know.”

“But it’s not our house,” Joel adds, smiles at you apologetically and makes your pulse spike.

“But she says she needs help,” she doesn’t let it go. It’s sort of sweet, “Come ooon, dad.”

“I do actually need help,” you back her up.

“You don’t have a boyfriend who knows how to swing a paint brush? Or who you’ll hurt by not letting him do the heavy lifting?” Joel asks casually. Sarah scrunches up her nose beside him.

“Nope, no boyfriend with a masculinity complex,” your cheeks blush a little as Joel chuckles, hidden by a smile as you shake your head no. You wish you did have a guy in your life, but right now only so you could see if there’d be any detectable disappointment on Joel’s face when you said yes.

Joel reaches up to scratch his beard. He looks like he is weighing the pros and cons, but a part of him also drags out the anticipation to tease his kid. He smirks, “Fine then, but you better be up early every day for a day’s hard work, Sarah Miller.”

“Oh, he used your whole name. You’re in trouble now,” you point out with a grin. Joel eyes you from beside you.

“Yes! Better than summer camp,” Sarah removes her fingers from the belt loops of her jeans to grab her father’s arm and press her forehead against it, “Thank you.”

“You’ve never been to summer camp,” Joel rolls his eyes but wraps an arm around his daughter.

“I sleep in though, so don’t come knocking at eight in the morning,” you point out.

“Dad sleeps in too, don’t worry,” Sarah keeps going.

“Sarah, what’s wrong with you?” Joel is the one who looks embarrassed now. He pushes her gently away, “Go back home, kid. Let the grown-ups sort out the details. You can call for pizza, yeah?”

“Ugh,” you hear her say to her father but she gives you a sweet smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Sarah,” you reply but she’s already walking away with her back towards you. Joel, on the other hand, doesn’t move from his spot in front of you, suddenly stuffing his hands in his pockets and almost entirely mirroring Sarah’s stance from moments before.

“Tell me what you need help with?” It’s meant more as a question or a suggestion than a command.

“Right,” you wonder how long you have been staring at his mouth. It’s been a while since you’ve been kissed, so you allow yourself the fantasy of Joel Miller being interested in kissing you. His beard tells you that it’s been a day too many since he would normally trim it, and you can almost imagine the feeling of the hairs tickling your chin and jaw as he kisses your mouth and neck—

Stop.

“Well, I have some work to do on the house facade,” you blurt out after the silence has gone on for too long.

“Clearly,” Joel nods in acknowledgement, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his legs a little where he is standing. Like this, he looks like he is a good listener, “I should see if I can find some cheap but good wood protection, looks like it’s going to be more expensive in the long run if it doesn’t get some kind of coat.”

“That’s so nice of you,” you give him a soft smile. It is confirmed then; the man is clearly not the office-type with how he talks about restoring the construction of the house to its peak.

He goes on: “Don’t worry about it, yeah? I’m sure you can pay me with hot dinners for Sarah and I or something. I can do this, the work on the house, but I’m terrible at getting her to eat other things than takeout with my normal schedule.”

Suddenly very open. Interesting.

“I wouldn’t mind that, no. It’s going to be a lot of dinners though. I have a whole lot of ideas,” you reply, still trying to not drop your gaze to his mouth again as he talks, “Garden needs to be weeded out, replanted, lawn mowed— oh, you don’t have a lawnmower, do you?”

“Sure do,” he answers, nodding towards his house, “I can get it. You need help with that now?”

You blame the Texan sun for how breathless you feel as you have time to really look at him. He has his hands on the handle of his old lawnmower, gripping firmly to the point of unintentionally showing off his biceps in the form-fitted shirt that he wears as he pushes the lawnmower around the wild grass.

You are sitting on the back porch, legs crossed with a screwdriver in hand and the instructions to the, by now, stupid stepladder. You’re more creative than practical, and it shows in the way that you tighten one screw but the stepladder still wobbles as you test it out.

Frantically, you go through the instruction manual front to back and then back to front until you accidentally rip the thin paper, but you don’t feel any smarter about what you are doing. You throw the screwdriver onto the wooden boards beneath you, fighting the urge to scrape a bad word into the grayish wood.

You lean back on your arms and close your eyes almost all the way, soothing yourself by taking in the sun and letting yourself look at Joel work without him noticing too much. Your eyes travel down his frame, looking at the jeans that have green patches around the base of the legs before going upwards again. You try to convince yourself that looking at his clothes makes up for how you’re ogling him now.

Subconsciously, you stretch out your legs from underneath you, then cross one leg over the other and lean further back on your elbows instead. Joel’s knuckles are slightly white from gripping the lawnmower and his t-shirt has started to form a patch of sweat at the base of his spine, supposedly caused by sweat dripping from the back of his neck because the hair there is damp. You curl your toes a little, press your thighs together. You want to know how strong those hands are, how they work at his daytime job, which you guess by now has to do with construction work. It feels wrong to think these things, but you allow them as long as they don’t leave your head.

You close your eyes fully then, not needing to feel even more warmth prickle at your skin, radiating from your core instead of being caused by the sun. You lay like this until the lawnmower stops.

“Woah, what happened here?” Joel walks over and looks down at you and then to the crime scene you’ve left open on the back porch flooring. You stare at him with a sheepish expression on your face as he shields the sun from you with his body.

“It didn’t want to do it the way that I wanted,” you simply say.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he jokes and shifts where he stands until the sun hits your eyes again. You grin up at him, holding a hand over your eyes to not be forced to close them and miss how he looks as he smiles back.

“Thanks by the way,” you add a moment later, “I’m honestly happy that I don’t have to do it myself.”

“Yeah, no problem… Look, I’m gonna go back to Sarah, have a shower, then the pizza that’s probably cold by now,” he lingers for a moment before starting to move.

“Sorry about the pizza,” you say and start to get up again, leaving behind the mess of screws, ripped pages and stupid tools.

“All good, I think Sarah will forgive me. She likes you,” he waves back at you as he leaves. You wave after him too, something feeling like it’s about to implode inside of your stomach and you know what it is. It is butterflies. It is the beginning of a crush.

In the morning, you find the stepladder assembled to perfection on your back porch.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #joel miller x you #my writing #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #dilf!joel

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crmccas1 · 5 days ago

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the other side of the Egghog coin

Sonic began stirring as he tried to get off the pavement he had been laying on for… who knows how long. Where was he, right he was on the other side of that rift that the restoration told him about, he pondered for a second if this was related to his recent escapades in the Starlight Isles, but that's not the important part right now, the important part was figuring out where he is.

Sonic looked around his environment, by the cramped streets and the tainted, dark red sky, he was able to deduce pretty quickly that he was in eggman territory. It felt like he was back in Eggmanland, he was way behind enemy lines, the hedgehog heard a patrol coming and went to hide, it was best for him to get out before the egghead knew he was here.

“Although…” the blue blur thought, “putting a few dents into eggy’s budget would make him furious.” The blue blur grinned as he jumped from the hiding spot and boosted through the patrol. He was now running through the streets as he tried to figure out how to get to higher ground, the cramped pathways were suffocating for the hedgehog. The hedgehog got up to the roof and saw how large the city was, the buildings blending into each other, the wailing sirens, and the suffocating atmosphere really set it in how far he was from any kind of home base.

What interested the hedgehog was that the badniks that the doctor had patrolling didn’t seem to mind him and in fact seemed to… avoid him? But he knew he didn’t have time to question that, he had to get out of here. So without a second thought, he started boosting through the rooftops in one direction, Sonic was guessing that he had to hit the city limits eventually it was only a matter of time before he got there, bashing through the bots seemed to keep the hedgehogs spirits up as every mile he ran went past him.

Sonic kept running until something suddenly caught him by surprise, knocking him down to the streets, a few people looked at him in shock before running away, when the blue blur went to look up at his assailant he saw someone who looked like him, but with spiked shoes and a vest similar to that of the doctors. “Well well well…” the hedgehog taunted, “Look at the fool who thought he could get away from Sonic Robotnik by…” the rival hedgehog trailed off when he saw Sonic get up, when the hedgehog realized that the hedgehog in front of him looked like him, his mischievous grin to turn into one of anger as he shouted “BY TRYING TO COPY HIM.” Sonic got shocked by himse- no, Sonic Robotnik charging at him in anger.

“Do you really think you would fool anyone! I wouldn’t be caught dead without my coat!” The Robotnik snarled at him before continuing his onslaught of attacks at the hedgehog he was chasing through the streets. Sonic Robotnik had gotten on a motobug to chase him through the labyrinthine city, while reprimanding his target as a “copycat” and a “pale imitation of the real thing”, sonic looked back on his attacker and spoke “Jeez, I guess doctor egglord left his kid unsupervised someone should tell his kid where poor old daddy went.” He could tell in the glare that his comment really got under the boy's skin as his attacks became more feral and his insults became more angry and less composed.

Things turned for the worse when the hedgehog ended up in a dead end street with a pissed Egghog behind him. “You’re gonna pay for even trying to think you could face me, everybody in this city knows to respect me or they’ll become another stain on my shoes.” When the Egghog lunged at him however, sonic gained a faint red glow as he slid under the robotnik and spun to create a gust of wind, launching him upwards. When the Egghog hit the floor again he looked around to see that the copy of him had vanished. “Damnit, now I’m gonna kill someone” maybe he would start with that fox he had seen with the pink hedgehog, oh what was his name… tiles?

“I gotta get out of this city and find tails, or anyone else.” Sonic had managed to escape the alternate version of him by escaping into the sewers after he performed that stunt with the cyclone kick topside. “These tunnels hopefully lead outside, if I had to deal with any more of this place I feel like I’ll forget that the sky is normally blue.”

Eventually sonic got out of the repeating tunnels that ran below the city and now on the other side of the walls that had been raised around the city limits, as sonic escaped the waste pipe he shook himself off and looked towards the walls that had surrounded him long before. He then started running the blackened landscape around the city until he finally made it to the forest, as sonic got to somewhat familiar ground he slowed down and sat down on a falling tree to reflect on what just happened before suddenly hearing a battle cry and something slamming him into a tree, the hedgehog shook himself and went to look at the aggressor, his eyes widening when he saw the pink hedgehog who was staring him down, looking very similar to the first time he saw her. Out of all the thoughts in his head the only thing he could say was “Amy?”

Not only is this shit long as it is its long as a FIRST CHAPTER, still I hope you all like it

link to chapter two

@themetalvirus

#this is so fucking long #and its not even all my ideas #this is just the setup #help #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #egghogs au #writing

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 8 months ago

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Flower power pall mall

A/N: Benedict’s flower waist coat made me do it… I mean look at it, don’t you just want to poke the embroidery? Set during season 2, episode 3. The Sharmas are visiting the Bridgertons and while everyone is set to win in a family with eight brothers and sisters, (Y/N) and Benedict are especially ruthless. (In my mind, (Y/N) is called Fleur which might give further context for the flower references.)

“Miss Edwina, you must know,” Benedict felt compelled to say with the typical crooked smirk on his lips, “that you should never place your ball anywhere near the one of (Y/N). Eloise is eager to win, but (Y/N) doesn’t even take notice of any one ball that is not her own.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at your brother’s comment. “Oh, please!”

“She’s already managed to make balls disappear on the roof,” Benedict continued, while he was circling you lazily. “And through certain windows.” The way you rolled your eyes at him merely made him pinch your nose.

“Once,” Colin added, “she even cracked mine in half with the force of her mallet.”

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” A slight blush crept over your cheeks as you glared at your two smirking brothers, quite embarrassed by them displaying your ruthless pall mall side in front of the Sharma sisters. To your surprise, they did not seem shocked in the least. Kate even nodded approvingly. “Then I shall manoeuvre your eldest brother’s ball quite close to yours at all times.”

You bit your lip to keep from barking out a laugh at Anthony’s expanse, but he was too busy glaring holes in your guest anyway. Benedict’s grin grew wide enough to reveal his “vampyre teeth” as Hyacinth tended to call them – quite the fitting description in your opinion, but one that had also incited your brother to attack his younger sisters in a fittingly vampiric manner. You had to smile at the memory of Hyacinth’s squeals whenever Benedict managed to blow a raspberry under her chin.

A mallet pushing against your shoulder blade brought you out of balance and made you stumble two steps forward, right into Benedict’s back. Exasperatedly you turned around to see Daphne put on an angelic smile. She merely raised her brows at your burning glare and put her mallet back down by her feet. “Would you make some space for Miss Edwina, sister! She gets to open the game.”

Grumbling, you made two extra big steps away from the field – and from Daphne – and pulled a disobedient strand of brown hair behind your ear. “You’ve definitely gotten meaner ever since you moved out!”

“Well, she no longer gets to tease you as often as we do,” Benedict pointed out, stepping closer to you and looking on as Miss Edwina Sharma got into position, exceedingly supported by Anthony.

“That must be really hard on her!” You said in a mocking tone, grabbing some of your dresses’ fabric to pull it out from underneath your shoes which almost led to you falling over had it not been for your brother’s stabilizing hand.

“I know it would be for me,” Benedict replied earnestly enough to make your lips twitch as you turned your head to look at the younger Sharma sister opening the game. He pulled you back slightly when the noise of mallet on ball rang over the grass and Miss Edwina’s ball got rather close to where you were standing.

“Are you holding her back?” Eloise chuckled, when she saw his hand on your arm. “Too scared she might run straight after the ball?”

With a disbelieving face you look looked up at him. “Are you??”

The laughing sound your brother made almost sounded a little scared. He let go off your arm immediately and raised his hands next to his head to show how innocent his intentions had been. “Of course not, I was trying to pull you out of harm’s way – the one you always somehow end up in! But by all means, get yourself knocked out by a pall mall ball next time!”

Benedict quickly moved away when you had to laugh at his words and tried to reach for him to restore the peace between you two. You chased after him for two steps, before you gave up, simply letting him jump back to Colin’s side, shaking your head at his antics and moving yourself to Eloise’s side.

The game had begun. And what a game it was. Daphne was too good to not earn her the conjoint mocking of you and Eloise, while Anthony was precise and focused as always, making everyone shake their heads at him. Benedict was too busy daydreaming and fooling around to have any real chance at winning, which was never truly his goal anyway. Colin was good enough at the game, but never gloated like Eloise did. You were getting on everyone’s nerves since you continuously held up your thumb for way too long to calculate the forces of the wind. You weren’t sure whether Edwina was having a lot of fun, while Kate seemed to be having the time of her life – especially, when Anthony was failing.

When you had the audacity to stretch out your thumb again the next time it was your turn, Benedict leaned over to blow air on your hand. You sent him an unimpressed look over your shoulder.

“Strong wind today,” he concluded with a shrug, making you extend your arm and push him against the chest.

“Remove yourself!”

Colin let out a surprised laugh. “That’s a bit harsh!”

“Are they always like this?” You heard Kate laugh, when Benedict tried to disturb your sight by holding a strand of your own hair in your face.

Anthony let out a long humming noise of agreement that managed to express not only many years of frustration caused by having you as his siblings, but also the deep affection that went with it. Kate sent him a curious glance.

“Stop it,” you protested and extended your hand to defend yourself, managing to brush a soft spot on Benedict’s stomach. He reacted with a little huff and quickly turned his upper body to the side, raising your attention. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit one of your flowers?”

The many flowers that were embroidered on Benedict’s waist coat had already given enough reason to ridicule him all morning, but they came especially in handy now that he was getting on your nerves. Actually, you thought them to be quite beautiful, but there was no reason to feed your brother’s ego all too much by telling him that. Instead you extended your hand again and aimed for another one of them, hitting your target and poking it with precision. Benedict’s “vampyre grin” expanded on his features as he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ticklish sensation your little attack provoked on his torso.

“(Y/N)!” He giggled, slapping your hand away, but immediately seeing himself forced to bend over again, as your fingers continued to single out every single flower available on his waist coat to subdue him to a continuous attack of pokes all over his middle. It made your heart feel warm inside your chest to hear cheerful cackles pour out of him like leaking water. “Stop it, that tickles!!”

“Aww, does it?” You taunted, fully aware of how ticklish your brother was and not exactly eager to stop your attack on his huge body that shrunk in on itself more and more. Besides, he didn’t seem particularly set on escaping himself; more like he was seconds away from falling over and curling up into a ball on the grass. Benedict was truly just a playful child, no matter his actual age.

Anthony looked on fondly, but cleared his throat meaningfully. “May we get on with the game then, dear sister?”

Your eldest brother’s voice kicked you out of the meditative state Benedict’s giggles had put you in. “Oh, uhm, sure!” You called out, noticing how everyone was looking at you expectantly. Of course, it was your turn and they couldn’t simply continue the game without you having done your shot. Benedict was shaken by a few more giggles after your hand had ceased its attack and slowly unbent himself to stand back up to his full size. To be safe, you took advantage of him still being tickle-wobbly on his knees and pushed him once more to make him stumble a few steps away from you, before you took your mallet into both hands and quickly aimed at your ball.

Kate chuckled good heartedly and called to you. “Make haste, (Y/N)! I think your brother seeks revenge!”

That didn’t exactly help you focus on your shot; and it got worse, when you recognized a very familiar growling noise behind you. A hysterical sound left your lungs, when you dared a quick look over your shoulder and saw Benedict roll up his sleeves and come closer to you again. “That demands satisfaction!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, inching forward ever so slightly to get some distance between you two, without losing the control over your ball.

“Ugh, just hit it, (Y/N)!” Eloise sighed loudly, knowing exactly how this would play out.

But her advice actually made you act. You did as she said, you hit the ball. But in the wrong direction – towards your brother. Anthony and Colin burst out laughing, when Benedict got hit by your shot and took to wailing loudly. His mouth agape, he held his arm where your ball had stricken him and stared at you disbelievingly. “I cannot believe you just hit me!!”

Eloise had to hold on to Daphne’s arm to keep from falling over with laughter and Benedict’s glare in her direction promised certain retribution in the aftermath of this game. But for the time being, his gaze fell back on you. You, who were wise enough to having taken off over the field, before he could realize it.

“Oh ho ho, I see how it is!” Benedict yelled after you, a chuckle colouring his voice. Rubbing his arm, he turned around to the guests as formally as his playful soul allowed. “Excuse me, Myladies, I must quickly go after my sister and … retrieve her.” Anthony and Kate both raised a brow with amused expressions on their faces, as your brother turned around and immediately started chasing after you with a fear inducing sound.

You were already laughing too much to make wise steps on the grass with a dress that was constantly getting between your legs and underneath your shoes. The race that looked more like a stumbling newborn – you – being chased by a feral leopard – Benedict – could only have one possible outcome. The wind blew your hair in your face when you turned around to hold out your mallet and protect yourself against him. You saw Kate grinning at you two, while your siblings were getting on with the game, well acquainted with situations like these, where one brother would chase a sister.

Benedict’s blue eyes were glowing playfully as he extended his own mallet in your direction. “En garde!” Knowing full well that all that mattered was to keep him at a distance, you stumbled further backwards and threw your mallet at him to make him stay where he was. But he merely blocked the projectile with one arm and chuckled darkly at the attempt. “Now what?

You held up your hands and tried to form a normal sentence through your breathless laughter. “Now, let’s just talk about this!” But your brother preferred to snarl and bend over in a predatory way, before he ran right into you with his shoulder knocking against your middle to lift you off the grass. You squealed when you felt your feet leave the ground, your body slung over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you a sneaky little flower,” He chuckled as he turned around himself a few times, making your hands grab for the fabric of his jacket as the world whirled around you. Then he made himself fall on the grass on purpose, dropping you before him and rolling over you. “Let’s see how she likes being tickled!”

You kicked, hit, smacked, pushed and twisted as hard as you could, hysterical laughter taking your breath away, but Benedict managed to jab his fingers into your sides nevertheless. He knew exactly where it tickled the most, having put you in a similar position many times in your life. It was truly not fair, how you were already wheezing with laughter after two seconds. “NO PLEASE NO!”

“I protect you from pall mall ball attacks and this is the thanks I get?” He shouted over your bubbly laughter, smirking down at you, as his hands danced over your sides.

“You’re a – BABY!!” You exclaimed through your helpless laughter and tried to pull his hands away from your sides, which only led to Benedict searching for more ticklish spots on your ribs.

“You really don’t know what’s good for you, do you?” He gasped, quite impressed by your willingness to provoke him even further while he was in the perfect position to make you pay for it. You threw your head back and tried more frantically to push his hands away, when they started crawling over your belly, hitting mean spots that made you shriek with laughter.

“StOOOHP!!”

“Oh no, I don’t think my little flower has already had enough!” He taunted, trying push his head past your flailing arms to make his teeth’s nickname proud yet again. You protected your neck at all costs, but the fingers that wiggled into your weak spots distracted you too much to be successful. The laughter seemed to come straight from your heart when his lips made contact with your neck.

“BEN PLEASE NO!!” You squeaked with mirth, your feet hitting the ground behind your brother. He was ruthless with his raspberries, while your hands were pushing helplessly against his immobile chest. Benedict used that to his full advantage and let his hands wander to poke your sides untethered alongside the ticklish treatment of your neck. You were lost to helpless laughter. Benedict’s head moved up and away from your neck, a smug, tickle-drunk smile on his face. “Do you give up?”

You tried to free your hands from where they were pinned between the two of you, tossing your head from left to right to negate his question, but regretting it immediately when he shrugged good-naturedly and blew another raspberry under your ear. “OKAY!” You squealed. “PLEASE, I GIVE UP, I DOO!!”

You gasped in relief when your brother’s fingers finally slipped away from your sides and his weight shifted off you. Groaning he rolled over on his back and squinted his eyes against the sun to smirk at you wheezing next to him.

“Flowers,” he mused, “they are so delicate and sweet!”

You turned your head to glare at him and proceeded to hit his shoulder with your fist, but you had to laugh nevertheless. “If that were true, you could have never tickled me that hard!”

“Oh,” Benedict scoffed, tilting his head meaningfully, “that wasn’t hard. I was being gentle!” He poked your side again, making you yelp and grab for his wrist. You were about to protest, but then you recalled the times Anthony had tickled Benedict and you had to agree that Benedict had in fact been gentle with you…

Huffing about the two of you, you kept his wrist in your grip and put his hand on your stomach, wrapping both of yours around his. “What would I do without you?” You sighed, inching closer to his side and pulling at his arm to get it to move around you. He chuckled softly and did as you wished, pulling you close to him and keeping you there with his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“You would probably do just fine, (Y/N).”

“Yes,” you replied, before resuming the poking of the embroidered flowers on his waist coat, “but I would miss you terribly!”

Benedict twitched and threw his head back against the ticklish sensations that you were spreading over his middle again, little titters of laughter shaking him as he tried to get a hold of your hand. “No no, I can’t! Truce, truce!!”

Anthony’s voice rang through to you from the other end of the field. “Ben, (Y/N), are you giving up, or what?”

You stilled your hand and found your brother’s gleaming blue eyes.

“Never!!” You exclaimed simultaneously and stumbled to your feet, grabbing your mallets and returning to the others to resume the game. You would show him how delicate a flower you were.

But the way Benedict looked at you with fondness actually made you understand quite clearly: you would always be his little flower.

#bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x (y/n)#bridgerton (y/n)#little sister imagine #your are a bridgerton sister #bridgerton siblings #tickling #bridgerton tickling #ticklish!benedict #ticklish!benedict bridgerton #bridgerton tickle fanfiction #tickle fanfiction #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton

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