#running track maintenance
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Running Track Resurfacing UK: Unveiling the Art of Athletic Excellence
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Running tracks, much like well-tuned instruments, require regular maintenance to produce the sweetest melodies of athletic achievement. In the UK, the art of running track resurfacing is the symphony behind these arenas of excellence. In this article, we'll explore the world of running track resurfacing uk, uncovering the significance, techniques, and the magic these professionals bring to the athletic stage.
The Artistry of Running Track Resurfacing Running track resurfacing in the UK is a craft, with professionals employing various techniques to rejuvenate these tracks:
Surface Removal The first step is like peeling away the old layers of paint from a canvas. Resurfacing experts meticulously remove the worn-out surface, unveiling a fresh canvas for their work.
Base Repairs The base of a running track is its foundation, much like the groundwork for a grand masterpiece. It must be solid and level. Resurfacing professionals meticulously repair and level the base, ensuring it provides a sturdy canvas for athletes.
Resurfacing This phase is akin to an artist applying fresh paint to a canvas. Running track resurfacing experts lay down a new, top-quality surface, finely tuned to offer optimal performance, much like an artist chooses the perfect hues for their creation.
Line Marking The lines on a running track are akin to musical notes on a score. Resurfacing experts meticulously mark these lines, ensuring they adhere to the precise standards required for athletic competition, much like a conductor precisely directs an orchestra.
The Significance of Running Track Resurfacing Why does running track resurfacing matter so much? Let's delve into the reasons:
Safety and Performance A damaged or uneven track is like a road full of potholes. It's a safety hazard and can hinder an athlete's performance. Running track resurfacing ensures that the track is safe and optimally tuned for athletes, much like maintaining a car's safety and performance features.
Longevity Regular maintenance can extend the life of your car, and similarly, running track resurfacing can extend the life of a track. It's an investment in the longevity of these arenas, ensuring that athletes can pursue their dreams for years to come, much like caring for a cherished vintage car.
Visual Appeal A beautifully resurfaced track is like a gallery where every step is a masterpiece. Running track resurfacing adds to the visual appeal of a sports complex, making it an attractive destination for athletes and spectators, much like an art gallery attracts art enthusiasts.
Regulation Compliance Whether it's for school sports or international competitions, running tracks must meet specific standards. Running track resurfacing ensures that the track is in compliance, just as referees ensure that a game adheres to the rules, ensuring a fair and competitive environment.
In Conclusion Running track resurfacing in the UK is the silent guardian of athletic excellence. These professionals ensure that these tracks are safe, offer top-tier performance, and maintain their visual appeal. From removing the old surface to meticulously marking the lines, each step is a work of art, ensuring athletes have a perfect stage for their performances.
The next time you step onto a freshly resurfaced running track in the UK, take a moment to appreciate the smooth surface, the crisp lines, and the safety it provides. It's the magic of running track resurfacing, silently contributing to athletic excellence and ensuring that athletes can chase their dreams with confidence.
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agalychnisspranneusroseus · 1 month ago
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Someone should make an analysis of Amphibia's geography for fanfic writing purposes and by someone I mean Oh god please let there be something out there so I won't be tempted to procastinate on studying for my finals working on a detailed world map for a fantasy Disney show about talking frogs and polyamorous lesbian divorce when the writers themselves probably didn't think much about it beyond what would be funny in each individual episode
#so there's a train running through frog valley right?? but there are only like 5 settlements in frog valley#those being wartwood bog bottom lily paddington swamp shiro and the southern toad tower#but we never see any train stations going through neither wartwood nor toad tower#which means the train must connect at least two of the other settlements. why would wartwood be excluded? is the railroad still#under construction? why create such a huge piece of infraestructure for such a scarcely populated region connecting only three towns?#because we know for a fact that train doesn't connect frog valley to Newtopia or the rest of the continent#otherwise Anne and the Plantars would have traveled via train which would have been safer and faster#plus if the only way in and out of the valley is inhabilitated during several months a year it would explain the absence of said connection#since it would be really hard to maintain#maybe there ARE other ways out of frog valley but that road would mean going AROUND the mountains? rather than through them?#which could be more dangerous AND take longer than waiting for the ice to melt away in the most commonly used passage#the train could take advantage of that by going through those other passes#but it wouldn't explain why Anne had to wait for like 3 months to leave#the only explanation I can come up with is that the railroad system is incomplete#either because it's still under construction or because important parts of it have fallen out of use due to lack of maintenance#resulting in short and tiny tracks you can't take to go fucking anywhere#you know. like in my country!#my posts#amphibia
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cass-cc · 2 months ago
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In less than three years I'm gonna be as old as my mom was when she got breast cancer. That's crazy. I'd say that's a good enough excuse for top surgery as any
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bookofbonnie · 11 days ago
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NEIGHBOURS - VI ARCANE.
Characters: Vi x Reader.
Summary: AU. You've just moved into a new apartment complex and meet your new next door neighbour for the first time.
Word Count: 1.3k+
A/N: This started off as something else, veered completely off-track from what it was intended to be and then somehow ended up at this. Just a bit of fun.
PART TWO
The first time you meet Vi is on the second day of your moving into your new apartment. 
She can hear your voice through the shared wall of your neighbouring apartments.
You’re on the phone with who Vi can only assume is the maintenance man of the complex- Marty. 
Something about a broken (?)door and from the frustrated sound of your voice, it wasn’t going to be fixed anytime soon. 
So, Vi decides she’ll kill two birds with one stone- introduce herself (your neighbours after all, you’d be seeing and hearing a lot of each other from now on) and offer you a helping hand.
So, with bandaged hands, she pushes herself off of her couch, grabs her tools and her fist is soon rapping on your front-door. 
It takes a second but the wooden barrier is wrenched open, frustration from your earlier phone call evidently still pumping through your veins if the display of force was of any indication. 
Your hair is dishevelled, strands falling out of your pony-tail and pulled in different directions from the constant run of your fingers.
You’re in an over-sized Dragon Ball Z t-shirt that falls to just above your knees. 
Knees which are covered by what also appears to be too-big, striped, pyjama pants that are also quite clearly too long; material pooling around your feet.
Cute, Vi thinks. 
“Hi?” you greet confused and unsure of what to make of the muscular, pink-haired, heavily tattooed woman standing at your front door with a toolbox in one hand, drill in the other and, a sheepish grin on her lips.
She’s attractive. 
Objectively speaking. 
“Hi,” Vi returns the greeting and introduces herself. 
“I’m Vi, I just live next door-” she waves the hand with the drill to her left, pointing to the apartment at the end of the hallway. “And I just- the walls are thin and I overheard you on the phone with who I’m assuming was Marty?” 
You nod your head slowly in confirmation. 
“Yeah, well he’s usually pretty useless around any sort of holiday so, if there’s anything that you need fixing I’m happy to help,” Vi finishes, pressing the trigger of the drill twice in quick succession and it makes two quick mechanical whirring sounds. 
You peer warily at Vi then stick your head out your front door, peering down the hallway and then back at Vi.
You hadn’t actually met or even seen any of your neighbours since moving in the day before so, you couldn’t be certain if she was telling the truth about being your neighbour- 
“Do you really live next door or are you just trying to rob me through means of being kind and then when I’m not looking you hit me over the head with that-” you nod toward the heavy looking drill in her hand. “-and fleece my apartment of all my belongings?” 
Vi’s eyes widen with your every word. 
“Because if you are, I have no valuables. Half my shit still needs to be assembled or unboxed and the other half of my shit - the valuable shit - hasn’t arrived yet so, maybe wait a week and then you can come back and rob me.”
There’s an awkward pause as Vi stares at you in bewilderment, her mouth opening then abruptly closing; unsure of what to say.
“That’s…” Vi starts with a half-laugh followed by a low whistle as she places the toolbox on the floor, down by her feet. “That’s a very hyperactive imagination you got there but, no, I really do live next door.”
Shoving a hand into her pocket, you take a cautious step back at the sudden movement. 
Vi notices and proceeds to pull her hand back out, slowly- a set of three keys and a fob attached to a keychain in hand.
She holds them out to you and there on the keychain, dangles a tag ‘803’.
You have an identical one that says ‘802’. 
You make an ‘O’ with your mouth- feeling incredibly silly because it appeared she was in fact your neighbour, after all.
What a fantastic first impression.
You blame your lack of composure on a lack of sleep and the fact that everything that could go wrong so far- had. 
Turns out moving into a new apartment only days before Christmas was a really bad idea. 
Clearing your throat, you straighten your back, trying to gather what was left of your dignity off of the floor while simultaneously trying not to think about what a complete and utter fool you had just made of yourself in front of your new next door neighbour. 
“It’s the lock on my bathroom door. It keeps getting stuck and now, I’ve been on both ends of getting locked outside of the bathroom and now, this morning, locked inside.”
Vi makes a knowing face- she had the exact same problem when she first moved into her own apartment two years back and she tells you so. 
“So I can definitely fix it for you,” she reassures with a kind smile before nodding behind you. “I can also help assemble the flat packs for you as well if you’re not in a rush to go anywhere.”
Your eyebrows furrow, only just realising your door was wide open and apartment very much on display for all to see the mess that was half unpacked boxes, flat packs and miscellaneous items behind you.
You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes flickering between the inside of your apartment and Vi.
You could use the help and she looked like someone who knew her way around these things without having to open the instruction manuals every few seconds like you did.
You could use the help but, you had no way of paying her back for it if she did-
“I appreciate the offer but, that would be asking for too much and I- I can’t pay you.” 
Vi laughs. 
“I wouldn’t have offered to help if I wanted to be paid. We’re neighbours now-” she shrugs with an easy grin. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine. I’m sure you’ll find some other way to return the favour one day.” 
And that’s how the two of you end up spending the remainder of the afternoon, well into the evening-
Vi fixing the lock of your bathroom door and then assembling your furniture while you unpacked what boxes you had with you and arranged your new home.
Vi pulls laugh after laugh out of you with her corny dad jokes; a hidden but triumphant smile on her face with each one that you giggle at until you tell her to stop-
“My cheeks hurt from laughing,” you say, hand massaging at the bottom half of your face and Vi wonders what corner of the city you’d been hiding in this whole time. 
You have a Zaunite accent so how on earth had she only just met you?
The flow of conversation between the two of you is effortless and unending as you learn bits and pieces about one another and, silence only comes with a grumble of your tummy. 
While you muck about in the phonebook, looking for the number of a nearby restaurant to order takeaway from, Vi steals glances at you from her position on the floor - where she’s been sliding the same two shelves into your newly assembled buffet for the last five minutes.
She subtly tries to memorise you while you press a finger into the page, quietly repeating the number under your breath as you punch it into your phone- oblivious to her gaze. 
Looking up from the phonebook with your phone pressed to your ear (Vi quickly averts her eyes) a small smile perches on your lips at the look of concentration on Vi’s face - furrowed eyebrows, tongue slightly poking out of the corner of her mouth - as she finishes up the shelves of the buffet. 
The line rings and rings on the other end and you repeat your order over and over in your head.
Not for concern of forgetting what to say but to distract yourself from thinking about how wildly attractive, Vi-
Your new,
Muscular,
Pink-haired,
Heavily tattooed neighbour is.
Subjective.
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
© bookofbonnie 2025. All rights reserved.
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hannieehaee · 9 months ago
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svt s/o who's feminism but mature, who knows her worth who sexy. like she wears pretty sexy nightgowns, gets her nails done, is just so maturely hot. thankkkk youuuu <3
them having a femenine s/o
content: feminine reader, mentions of reader having long hair (long enough to braid or put up), established relationship implied, a lil bit suggestive (?), etc.
wc: 943
a/n: in my mind they are all unconditionally obsessed with their s/o tbh and u can see that rlly well in what i wrotehdjosoos
masterlist
seungcheol -
he always says he wants to be seen as a strong and dependable man, so i think he'd love your feminine disposition (have u seen him with jeonghan ..) he would love paying for your self-care days and would have standing appointments for you to get your nails, lashes and hair done every month (already paid for in advance obviously!!) he'd adooore any time you wore a cute lil sundress for him and would insist on buying you cute lil dresses and accessories so you could show them off to him.
jeonghan -
he has experience with maintenance of long, luscious hair, so he'd always be braiding your hair an drying it for you. gives me the vibe that he would find a feminine s/o adorable. would adore the cute lil charms you put on your nails, letting you do his own nails should you ever ask. he'd join you in your self care days where you did a bunch of facials and take long scented baths. he's a lil feminine himself so you guys would fit perfectly together.
joshua -
he seems very put together himself so i think he'd really feed off of the way you'd routinely get your nails and lashes done, how you'd do your skin care in an almost holistic way. he would love getting to pick your nails and getting you cute lil night gowns to wear. he'd integrate into your beauty routine very well.
jun -
he'd lose track of time just staring at you with stars in his eyes. wouldnt even realize how often he'd just. stare. but he couldnt help it, okay? he'd just find you so amazing and sexy and confident and the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. he'd happily pay for your nails and carry the pretty new bag he'd just gotten for you last week if it meant he could admire you from afar whenever he wanted.
soonyoung -
just constantly dumbfounded by the absolute deity he believed you to be. you were just so confident and sexy and put together and those dresses you wore made your legs look so good that he just- but that's besides the point! soonie would be nothing short of obsessed with you, always in awe of your new set of nails or the pretty new lipstick adorning your lips. super attentive to all the efforts you put in your appearance.
wonwoo -
he'd be so bf carrying your bag and complimenting the cute charms on your nails. would constantly look at you with love and wonder in his eyes any time you modeled your new outfits for him. would humor you any time you asked him if you could paint his nails to match yours. would run his hands over your body any time you wore those soft nightgowns of yours.
jihoon -
he'd be so easily flustered by just how pretty and sexy he found you. you were just the embodiment of feminine and put together. would admire every detail about you, from your nails to your hair to your perfume. he'd be a little intimidated by you, knowing that one look and he'd be on his knees for you. in short, he'd be obsessed with you in every way imaginable.
seokmin -
lol constantly swooning over you and any and every one of your feminine habits. would be fascinated by your nails and the way you always managed to have them done. would love how you always had cute lil outfits ready for every occasion. he'd just be eternally fascinated by every detail about your appearance and how meticulously you had yourself put together.
mingyu -
certified bf who's obsessed with paying for you to get yourself done all over. monthly nail set? he's paying. lashes touch up? his wallet is yours. new wardrobe? his black card will take care of it! he'd feel a brand new sense of satisfaction seeing you all dolled up every day knowing he could provide for you and simultaneously have such a pretty s/o always so well-put together.
minghao -
he'd feel a little cocky at knowing that he was dating the literal embodiment of sexiness and confidence. you two would make such a perfect match bc of how well established your individual styles were, making minghao get a sense of pride at having such an enviable partner. he'd love your feminine aura and would feed off of it.
seungkwan -
he's always tagging along with you when you got a mani or a pedi, joining in to get his treatments done too. would word-vomit compliments at you any time he saw you, always telling you how pretty you looked with your new dress or how cute you did your hair that morning. bf but also a bestie to do all these cute lil feminine things with.
vernon -
i dont think he particularly cares if his partner is feminine or not, but he'd enjoy when you'd ask for opinions on what nails to get next or whether you should do a mud mask or a peel-off mask that day. would absolutely join you when you did self-care days and do masks with you. he'd also like how soft you always felt after those aforementioned self-care days.
chan -
he's so boyfriend coded to me, i think he'd swoon over every little feminine detail about you. would notice your new nails every time you did them. would compliment you even when all you did was get a small trim. would get you flowers that matched your nails at the moment. he'd also have a thing for seeing you in those pretty lacy nightgowns. they felt so soft under his touch when he held you at night.
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angelicgirlmj · 5 months ago
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an angels guide: before your first day back to school ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
hi angels! so for many of us it’s approaching back to school season. for lots of people this can be a bit of an anxiety inducing time, whether you are starting a new school year or kind of education there is alot to plan and prepare and get ready for - it can feel extremely overwhelming! here is my guide for having an organised and effective first day back at school to get you on track and motivated! enjoy and as always feel free to comment your own tips or advice.
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the week before ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
check through stationary and buy anything you need, check subject lists to see what is recommended as well. buy cute stationary in your favourite colours to motivate you!
sort through books, folders etc and organise notes, any loose pieces of paper and any important documents.
assign a folder to each subject, or if already have a folder check through and make sure it is organised and neat.
clear school emails etc, check through and organise into sections and respond to any. check for any information from your school regarding the upcoming year.
finish off any summer work and make sure it is all complete and ready to be handed in on the deadlines provided. check for any extra work if you have spare time, such as a book or article to read.
read up on the new syllabus/lesson plan for your subjects. familiarise yourself with how it looks, any new terms and any possible problem areas.
fix your sleep schedule! start going to bed earlier and waking up at the time you need to be up for school just to make it less of a shock to your system.
check your bag will fit everything and that any additionals such as a water bottle or lunch box are in good condition and to your tastes.
work on your morning/evening routines, plan when you will be doing work and make necessary changes.
figure out your fitness goals and routines - are they realistic for a full time student? time management is key.
if using apps such as notion, ensure it is set up for the new school year and neatly organised.
plan outfits, check through clothes in case in need of new underwear etc or wardrobe staples.
research healthy and nutritious lunch ideas (may make a post on this later!!), buy ingredients if needed.
do any ‘high maintenance’ things, get your nails done, lashes, eyebrows etc.
pack an emergency bag (pads/tampons, spare underwear, cash etc).
check any hygiene products and buy new ones/replace old ones if run out or in need of more!
do more self care, do a hair or face mask, do your own nails, watch your favourite films, have some you time before school starts again.
make a back to school playlist.
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the night before ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
eat a healthy dinner.
do face mask (use one you have tried before in case a new one causes a bad reaction).
oil hair + hair mask.
dry brush before shower.
wash out oil + masks, shampoo twice.
apply conditioner and leave in.
exfoliate and clean body with soap before shaving.
wash out conditioner and apply bath gel.
finish shower, hair routine (mine is in-depth i have curly hair!), apply body oils.
blowdry, diffuse or air dry hair depending on type.
apply body lotion and perfume.
make tea and drink while doing some journaling (what is my plan for tomorrow, what do i want to achieve etc)
pack bag and organise clothes.
clean teeth, floss and mouthwash.
do gua sha routine and ice face.
do pm skincare routine.
do nail care routine and out hair up for bed.
watch comfort show or read comfort book.
set alarm.
have an early night!
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the day of ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
wake up nice and early.
do some yoga/stretching.
tidy room.
eat a healthy breakfast.
pack or plan lunch.
fill up water bottle.
check bag is fully packed.
check school timetable, make note of rooms etc.
have a quick shower if time (shave, body gel etc).
clean teeth and do am skincare.
get dressed.
journal and plan day.
put on back to school playlist!
head to school.
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thank you for reading angels! hope this was so helpful and have a wonderful back to school season. all my love, m.
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megankoumori · 2 years ago
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In defense of a "Wicked Stepmother":
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Sarah's Stepmother in "Labyrinth", named Irene in tie-in media, only gets about a minute of screen time before Sarah rushes off to her room in a soaked snit. Fanfic writers usually turn her into an evil bitch and even the manga sequel, "Return to Labyrinth", has her cold and abusive to Toby, her biological child. But here's the thing...
I think Sarah's mother gets a bum rap.
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Dressing nicely for an evening out and having mild conflict with a teenager does not a Lady Tremaine make. And as someone who actually lived with a narcissistic, manipulative, emotionally abusive stepfather, I can tell you that Irene doesn't even come close to wicked step parent territory.
Backstory first. It's never spoken of in the film, but clues in Sarah's room tell us that her real mother is a stage actress who abandoned her and her father for another actor. Sarah idolizes her mother and tries to emulate her with play acting. Sarah's father met and married Irene sometime after Linda ran off, and Sarah, who thinks her mom walks on water, resents the hell out of Irene for taking her place. A place that Linda abandoned for another man.
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She couldn't help it. He looked like David Bowie.
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Let's look at her first alledged transgression. She won't let Merlin into the house. Instead she orders him into the garage. Heartless, we assume because we all love dogs and only the most soulless of monsters don't. But slow down. She didn't leave him out in the rain. She put him in the garage. Furthermore, Merlin is an Old English Sheepdog. Is he a nice dog? Sure, but he's also a breed that's notorious for being high maintenance and hard to keep clean and right now he's soaking wet and filthy. Irene isn't being cruel, she's trying to keep him from ruining the carpet.
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So now Sarah and Irene are in the house about to have their confrontation. "Sarah, you're an hour late..."
Sarah lost track of time. Sarah is the one who screwed up. Irene has every right to be frustrated. For all we know, she and Robert were supposed to see a movie or meet someone and Sarah's tardiness wrecks their plans. Note, please, that while she is frustrated, she's not even yelling. My mom would have screamed bloody murder and then held it over my head for weeks.
"Your father and I go out very rarely..."
"You go out every single weekend!"
There is no way to confirm who is right on this. I will say Sarah is the one prone to hysterics and exaggeration, so it's not looking good for her.
"And I ask you to babysit only if it won't interfere with your plans."
I ask. Irene asks. She doesn't demand, and she doesn't expect Sarah to give up her previous plans.
"Well how would you know what my plans are? You don't even ask me anymore!"
Sarah, you were LARPing in a park by yourself. Furthermore, with the storm you would have gone home anyway.
"Well I assume you would tell me if you had a date. I'd like it if you had a date. You should have dates at your age."
Irene doesn't want Sarah to be a Cinderella stuck at home every night. She wants her to go out and have a social life. This is literally the opposite of the bedtime story Sarah tells Toby later.
Also, "I'd assume you tell me..." Irene might not be wording it in the best way here, but she wants Sarah to communicate with her. She wants them to have a relationship.
Then Robert enters the scene. "Sarah, you're home. We were worried about you."
WE were worried. As in both he and Irene. You think that's the reason she was waiting on the porch? Because their sixteen year old daughter is an hour past when she said she'd be home and now it's raining and getting dark?
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It's not like she'd ever talk to a stranger.
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Sarah runs up the stairs in a snit, not even acknowledging her father and leaving Irene dismayed. "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say." Her voice isn't angry, it's hurt. She's making an effort to reach Sarah, but nothings working. She can't break through the tantrums and the anger and the hero worship of Linda.
Sarah is a fantasy junkie. It's all over her room. Her books are all fairy tales. Her dog and her teddy bear are named after figures from Arthurian legend. But she's wrapped herself in a different kind of fantasy, a toxic one. One where Irene, well meaning and kind, is one of the evil stepmothers from her fairytale books, while Linda is good and virtuous like one of the dead moms at the beginning. Except Linda isn't dead. She's shtupping a costar.
Part of Sarah's coming of age and maturity is rejecting Jareth, the stand in for her mother's lover and therefore finally rejecting following her mother's selfish path. We see her finally let go of Linda by putting her picture and clippings in the drawer. Hopefully, the next morning, after she picks the confetti out of her hair, she'll finally be able to start over with Irene.
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misctf · 5 months ago
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Hunting for City Boys
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“Ah reckon they went this way!”
Scott could hear the heavy footsteps and thick southern drawl of his pursuers. His back was pressed against a tree and he did his best to control his breathing. How the fuck did it get this out of hand? It started with the damn car. Of all the places for their car to break down, it had to be in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere. No internet signal, no GPS, nothing. Prior to leaving, Scott asked Will to make sure the car was ready to go. And Will reassured him that his father’s fancy BMW was more than ready to handle the drive across the state. Of course, Will insisted they take a shortcut to make better time.  And for what? To get to the cabin before the rest of their frat bros? In hindsight, it wasn’t worth it.
“Oh, Ah see ’im! There he is!”
Scott felt his heart sink. Did they really see him? No... not him. Will. Scott heard Will cry out in pain, followed by a thud.
“Nice shot, Clay. Y’all wanna keep lookin’ fer the other fella?”
“Ah reckon we ought to git this one back to the house. The other fella won’t git too far.” Clay said, “Besides, we don’t want ’im wakin’ up before we get home.”
Scott could hear the engines of their four-wheelers rev up. And soon enough, they peeled away through the thick forest and back to wherever they came from. When Scott peered around the tree, he realized he was alone.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Scott cursed, “This can’t be happening.”
He checked his phone again. No signal. He ran a hand through his matted light brown hair. The chase had left him worse for wear. His jeans were torn from running through the forest, while dirt and small cuts covered his hands. Even his white sweater was stained with mud. He quickly removed it, revealing a tight-fitting t-shirt that hugged his lean body nicely. He sighed. It would only be a matter of time before they started searching for him again. Those two fuckers. They came out of nowhere, driving on their stupid four wheeler. At first, Scott thought they were going to help them. It would’ve been clear to anyone that the two privileged, preppy frat guys had no idea what they were doing with the car. And despite Will being a straight As engineering major, his knowledge on car maintenance was lacking. As was Scott’s. Wasn’t like they ever really needed to learn anyway. But it was too late to worry about that now. Scott needed to figure how to get out of this mess.
“If they have a house,” Scott thought, “They might have a phone, or a car, or some way to get out of here.” He took a deep breath. He could follow the tracks of the four-wheeler back. But what happened if he got there and there were more of them? He sighed. He’d take the risk.
_______
Scott wasn’t sure how long he walked until he arrived at his destination. He spent some time hiding behind trees and bushes as his pursuers resumed their search for him. But somehow, he made it to the house undetected. Unlike the mansion his family occupied, this house (if Scott could even call it that) wasn’t much to look at. The home sits on a gravel path that winds through overgrown weeds and brambles, leading to a weathered structure that looks like it's been standing for decades. Its wooden siding is chipped and peeling, with patches of faded paint barely clinging to the surface. Scattered furniture and empty beer bottles littered the overgrown grass of the front yard.
“In and out. Find Will, find a phone, and bounce.” Scott whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. To the best of his knowledge, those fuckers were still patrolling the forest.
With a rush of adrenaline, Scott stealthily approached the front door. When he got inside, he gagged. The living room is a cluttered space with a mix of mismatched, well-worn furniture. An old plaid sofa, sagging in the middle, sits opposite a heavy wooden coffee table covered in a layer of grime and strewn with empty beer cans and fast-food wrappers. The walls are adorned with faded hunting trophies and old, family photos, framed in crooked, mismatched frames. A faint, smoky odor permeates the air, hinting at years of cigarettes smoked indoors, mingling with the pervasive smell of old wood and dust.
“Fucking pig sty.” Scott mumbled, maneuvering through the old home, “Come on, there has to be a phone or something.” But his search wasn’t all too successful, “Y’all can’t be serious, what kinda folks don’t got a phone?” Scott froze at the sound of the drawl leaving his lips “What the fuck?” He whispered, his voice returning to normal, “Shit, I’m losing it. Focus Scott.”
But there was no phone. Or car keys. Or even a radio. He took a deep breath, gagging more as the stale air filled his lungs.
“Alright, so I ain’t gonna be able to reach nobody. But where on Earth is Will?” This time, Scott barely registered the southern drawl that infected his words. Instead, he found himself focused on the basement stairwell. He gulped, “Maybe Will’s down there.” He whispered.
Scott started down the stairs. The smell that permeated his nose was more intense than the one upstairs. It caused the young man’s eyes to water and he felt like he needed to turn around to get fresh air. But Scott knew he needed to be quick. Find Will, get out of there. Head back the way they came until the got cell service. But his train of thought was shattered when he made it to the bottom of the stairwell.
“Will?” Scott asked, gazing at the figure restrained to the chair, “Oh god, Will?”
“Scott, that you?” The man said in a thick country accent, “Scott, come on now, you really gotta help me out here. Please, I’m beggin’ ya!”  
The man in the chair had very few similarities to Will. Or at least to the Will that Scott knew. Where Will’s toned abdominals once were, a small beer belly was jutting out. His stubble had darkened, while his dark locks had been shaved away and covered with a ball cap. His body hair was more obvious now, leaving him lightly dusted from head to toe.
“Will, good Lord, what in the world did they do to ya?” Scott’s mind raced when he realized he was once again speaking in a southern accent, “I cain't, for the life of me, stop talkin' like this! What in tarnation’s goin' on?” Scott’s hand shot to cover his mouth, but when he made contact with his newly grown stubble, he jumped.
“It’s happenin’ to you too, ain’t it? I reckon it is.” Will mused, “It’s the smell, I tell ya. Gets in your head and messes with ya a bit.”
Scott’s eyes widened in terror. And for the first time, he started to really understand his situation. As he looked down at his own body, he could see his stomach starting to push out into a small gut. Simultaneously, small hairs started to poke out from under his collar.
“No, that just ain’t possible.” Scott whispered in disbelief, “Will, we gotta get outta here, and right quick.” He ran over to his friend and began undoing the binds around his hands. All the while, Scott tried to ignore the itchiness of his new beard.
“I tried to put up a fight too, Scott. I reckon I did. But after spendin’ some time down here, I just went on and accepted it.” Will continued. Scott watched as his friend’s eyes dulled, “Ain’t no need for fancy degrees or gettin’ all dressed up. Just a good ol' nice, simple life."
“Will, listen here, you need to focus now.” Scott said, undoing the final bind, “There’s gotta be a way to fix this.” But Will shook his head and without a second thought, tackled Scott to the ground. Scott looked up at his friend in terror, trying to wriggle out from beneath his firm grasp, “Will! Lemme go, gosh darnit!”
“Well what do we have here?” Scott’s heart sank as he heard the voice of their pursuers flood the room, “Billy! What’re you doin’ strattlin’... Scott?” Clay shook his head, “Naw Scott ain’t a good name for a good ol’ southern boy, ain’t it?” He grinned, “We’ll think of somethin’ but go on now and finish the job, Billy!”
Scott’s eyes widened in terror as Billy nodded. And before Scott could stop it, he found his face in Billy’s rank armpit. The bush of moist pit hair tickled Scott’s nose, and the intensity of Billy’s country B.O. filled his nostrils. He wanted to yell out and beg them to stop, but when he opened his mouth, he only breathed in more of Billy’s stench. For poor Scott, it soon became unbearable. And as the laughter of his captors filled the air, Scott’s world went black.
_________
“We ain’t got all day, Billy!” Scott shouted from the driver’s side, “Git in the darn truck already.”
“Aww Cletus, I’m sure sorry. I went back for the gin.” Billy said, jumping into the passenger seat, “We got a long ride ahead of us.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Scott- now Cletus groaned, “Just don’t be tellin’ me about no new shortcuts. I ain’t too keen on goin’ through anything like this again.” He looked over at Billy, who was chugging the bottle of gin. He sighed, “I can’t stay mad at you though.” Sure, his upper class life was gone. And he could barely string together an intelligent sentence. His vocabulary was oversimplified and any education past the eighth grade was absent from his mind. Certainly, folks from his prior social circles wouldn’t tolerate his cigarette smoking, beer chugging, and crude jokes. Cletus sighed. His life as Scott was over, “Well, Billy, you ready?” His hand slowly wrapped around Billy’s cock and he gave it a few tugs. Billy moaned and bucked his hips, only for Cletus to stop, “I knew that’d get your attention. Besides, you got plenty more of that comin’, y’know. Especially if we go along with what Clay’s sayin’.”
Billy nodded, lifting his arm and taking a deep whiff, “Y’all think they’ll recognize us?” Cletus shook his head. There was no way their former frat bros would recognize them.
“Soon enough, they won’t even recognize their ownselves.” Cletus replied, taking a whiff of his own pits, “Now c’mon. We got a long drive ahead of us.”
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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year ago
Text
Danny is Cass's brother
So! Back when David Cain was making his "Perfect Weapon", he came across a complication.
Lady Shiva, the woman who was set to give him his Weapon, was pregnant with Twins.
He decided that the Spare was useless to him, and that he needed to devote all his time to the Weapon. He was about to give it up, or maybe just dispose of it, when he decided that it was fine to keep it. A Spare is still a Spare after all, if the Weapon ever failed or died, he could start from scratch.
So, Danny was raised for the first 8 years of his life as a Spare Weapon. He didn't get the same rigorous training that Cass did, as she was the main focus, but he was still trained in the basics. Even a Spare Weapon need maintenance after all.
Then, when he was 8, Cass broke into his Cell Room and ran from the Base with him. She knew that once she escaped, Danny would be the next one to suffer, so she took him as well.
Unfortunately, they got seperated somewhere in Illinois when they got caught by some of David's mercenaries.
Cass kept going, running all across the country before ending up in Gotham at 15 (1 year earlier than normal). There, she got adopted by Bruce Wayne and became the Vigilante, Orphan. She never stopped looking for her brother, but at the very least she knew that he must have escaped David Cain's men. They were focused specifically on her after all.
Cass had enlisted the help of her new Family to search for him. DNA tracking, Facial Recognition, even asking some of their Underworld Contacts for information.
Unfortunately, they had no leads. Until one day when one of their Facial Recognition Programs finally picks up on a Match.
The face of a Small Time Hero in Illinois.
...
When Danny and Cass got seperated, he ended up in Amity Park. After a few days of Wandering, he was found by Jazz, who then took him to her Parents and convinced them to Adopt him.
When Danny is 14, he is in a Lab Accident that turns him into a Halfa. Using his New Powers and Old Training, Danny manages to keep his new Family and Home safe from the Ghosts coming through the Fentons Portal. He becomes a Hero basically, even though he doesn't really want to attention.
He thanks the Ancients when he finds out about the Media Blackout Amity is Under. He guesses it's not great, but at least he is safe for now.
He continues like this until one day when he is 16, and there is a knock on the Door.
He opens it, and stands shocked when he sees his Sister. Not Jazz, the wonderful woman who took him in and taught him how to speak all those years ago. The one who has acted as his Older Sister for the past 5 years.
His Sister. His Twin. Cass.
After a moment of Shock, they simultaneously go in for a Hug and start to cry a little.
After a few minutes of calming down, Danny introduces his Sister to his bewildered Family. Cass likewise introduces her Adoptive Brother, Dick, who came along to make sure she was safe on the trip.
While Dick and the Fentons get acquainted, Danny takes Cass up to his room to talk.
She explains what happened after they got seperated, what she is doing there, and how she found him.
She tells him that she had originally come to Amity to bring him to her new Family, but she could see the love he held for the Fentons. Also the town needed its Hero.
Danny is shocked that she even found him through the Media Blackout, but not so much at the fact that she nailed his secret identity on sight. She was always observant after all.
After that, Cass and Dick stay in Amity for a few weeks so Danny and Cass can catch up. He introduces her to his friends, shows her around his parents Lab, and even let's her meet some of his kore friendly Rogues.
They are just having a great time.
...
Back in Gotham, Batman just got a very frantic call from Barry.
"Bruce, I just came back from the future!" Shouted Barry through the Comms.
"Explain." Demanded Batman. Barry knew better than to Time Travel without just cause. If he was forced to time travel, it was serious.
"A Villain shows up, an Apocalyptic Level Villain." Barry explains, "He destroys Everything. And I mean Everything. None of us can stop him, he has too many powers to combat. Flight, Invisibility, Intangiblity, Energy Beams, Energy Constructs, Ice Manipulation, Weather Manipulation, Electrokinesis, the list goes on."
"How do we stop him?" Asked Batman. This was dangerous, a Villain with even half of those powers was deadly already.
"It's complicated, but I think he followed me and another Hero back in Time. I think it may be a Closed Time Loop. He is the catalyst for his own creation."
"Is there any way to break the Loop? What is the main driving force to his Creation?" Asks Batman.
"Well, I know his name at least. He goes by Phantom, but his real name is Danny Fenton." Barry explains.
Bruce feels his heart grow cold. He knows both of those names.
Phantom, aka Danny Fenton, aka Daniel Cain.
Cassandra's Brother.
Barry seems to hesitate, before continuing, "...and as far as I know, the catalyst for his creation is the death of Orphan in Amity Park."
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sunderingstars · 8 months ago
Note
don't be a coward, roll the dice 🎲
✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ DICE ROLL #43 — A BLOODY KISS ⌝
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based on this post!
word count: 1.4k
what the stars reveal: boothill x reader, gn!reader, boothill calls reader "darlin'," slight mentions of blood, i'm allergic to not putting a Narrative™ in everything i write
— thank you for the excuse to write angst cheerisse >:3
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Three days. That’s how long it had been since Boothill told you he’d return. Three long, grueling, torturous days. You thought you’d be used to it by now — the stretches of time he went radio silent for one reason or another, flickering out of your life like a candle. Yet, it was impossible to truly release.
Despite occupying such an important role in his life, a partner in all its meanings, it was so easy for him to dissipate, to leave wisps of smoke behind as his flame dwindled. It was the fleeting nature of a Galaxy Ranger, you knew, but you couldn’t understand. What was the point of making you worry? What was the point of those sleepless nights? 
On day one you had forced yourself to be patient. Quiet. You molded yourself to the chair at your workstation and sat, eyes roaming over the bits of machinery and time-worn tools scattered about. Once in a while, you’d even let yourself tinker with a piece or two, just to make sure everything was ready for his arrival. You had an important job after all; not just the maintenance of his body, but of his soul and mind. Nothing was quite as sweet as the moments your eyes met while tuning him.
But the second day began to gnaw at you. Twist, in your stomach, like snakes. Their sour venom began to leak into your mind, swirl your worries in a cocktail of potential tragedies, and you contemplated sending him a message. Just one. Enough to ease your mind, to let him know a small blip of you was waiting for him back home. After a few hours of pacing back and forth in your shared kitchen, you worked up the determination to do it.
… No response. Not at dinnertime, not in the evening, and certainly not in the early hours of the morning — most of which you lay painfully awake during. Only the cruel static of a blank screen remained, blinking once, twice, as it tried and failed to reach him among a sea of stars.
The third day was the worst. Everything seemed to compound, balloon out in your mind to the point it began to seep into other parts of your being. You bounced your leg, bit your fingernails, peeled at your lip without even registering it. Eventually, you made your way to the storage closet for some whiskey, if not to take the edge off then to at least give your mouth a diversion.
You had just popped open a bottle when you heard a clank. Immediately, you stilled. Listened again. The bottle, prone, hung in your grip.
Clank. 
It was outside, not in.
You were out the door faster than you could blink, legs weaving around rocks and brush as you trampled anything too small to get caught on. The sun was beginning to set, casting the arid landscape in darkening hues of pink and gold, but you knew this place like the back of your hand; the lengthening shadows did nothing to stop your pursuit. Under normal circumstances, you’d be more concerned about threats — wild animals, loose tools, even the stray IPC guard who managed to track down your location, but you didn’t care about any of that now. Not when Boothill was on the line. 
So you persisted. Drew closer to the noise as much as you could, eventually picking up an increase in frequency and the soft humming of a tired engine. You squinted. Then, you almost collapsed in relief; trundling down the paved dirt road was a motorbike. Boothill’s motorbike. It was a ghost of its former self, laden with loose parts and constant stuttering and a headlight practically severed from the rest, but it was his. 
Not wanting to waste any more time, you picked up your pace with a clear destination in mind. It’s not like he could properly run you over anyways. You were surprised the thing was even moving. 
“Boothill?” you called into the dusk. Out-of-breath and ragged, your mind began to filter through your fears, fearing silence, fearing stillness.
However, as the silhouette slowly resolved into familiarity, so too came a voice that pricked tears at your eyes.
“Yes, darlin’?”
Whatever sharp spark of anger coasted through your chest at the causal response fizzled into nothing once you laid eyes on his face. That signature smile, those red-tinted eyes, all backlit against the rays of a dying sun. Healthy. Whole. Alive. Once again, you felt as though your legs might give out. 
You made it just far enough to lean against the shuddering fuel tank before using the last of your willpower to vault yourself towards the open embrace of Boothill’s chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. A hearty laugh sounded against you.
“Missed me that much, huh?”
You mumbled an unintelligible response. The loud hum of the bike became an irrelevant backdrop to the soft hum of metal and leather, the feeling of machinery quietly whirring against the skin of your cheek. No stutters, no pauses. Unlike the dying corpse below, Boothill was running smoothly. You breathed a sigh of relief.
“Why…?”
You didn’t have to finish your sentence before a sigh crested against the crown of your head. A hand, firm and comforting, came to rest on the back of your neck. “’M sorry, darlin’. Damn phone got busted. I knew you’d worry, but tryin’ to make a call in IPC territory was too risky.”
“It’s okay,” you mumbled, breath hitching in a vain attempt to keep tears from falling. “I’m just happy you’re— you’re safe.”
In your arms, the leather of his jacket shifted. A warm weight pressed to the small of your back.
“Aw,” he cooed, breath fanning across your cheek as he shifted you into a more comfortable position, “it’s alright. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Something about the combination of his words and actions, the familiar smell of gunsmoke and malt clinging to him like home, made it all bubble over. Before you knew it, you were tilting out and up, cupping your hands against Boothill’s cheeks, bringing him home. In the last painted rays of the sun, your lips met in a stroke of vibrant color.
It felt like everything you had wanted over the past half-week — brightness, relief, the surety of something alive and warm against you. An immeasurable weight left with the tear-tracks down your face, each fear dissipating with a new round of wetness. His lips slotted against yours with the ease of practice. Drifted with purpose to wash away your worry. By the time you tasted tang, you thought it must have been you. It wasn’t uncommon for a part of your lips or tongue to get caught in Boothill’s sharp canines, rupturing the skin ever so slightly to form a pinprick of blood. However, it became clear this wasn’t the case when you surfaced for air. 
As your eyes adjusted to the growing darkness, you began to make out faint, dark splatters against your partner’s face.
Fear returned to you in a rush. You hadn’t even checked for flesh injuries when you first saw him, too caught up in the relief of seeing him again. 
“Boothill—” you said, fingers tracking carefully along the edge of his mouth where you could see a blossom of dark blood emerging, “—Boothill!”
The man in question hummed in confusion. Slightly frantically, you traced the pads of your fingers along the edges of the splatter. It was fresh. Oh, Aeons, it was fresh, and you hadn’t even thought—
“Woah, hey.” The low timbre of Boothill’s voice brought you out of your spiral. The hands on your back rubbed soothing circles, the kind he used when trying to calm a horse. “It’s nothin’, darlin’.”
“‘Nothing?’” you asked incredulously.
“It’s not mine, if that’s what you’re askin’.” He shot you an infuriating smile. “A few folks from the corporation got on my nerves, that’s all.” Then, when your skepticism remained: “Promise.”
You bit your lip, trying to tamp down the fluttering revival of fear in your chest. You couldn’t deny it, though — even in the night, the drying splatters clearly arced in a passing motion rather than a bleeding one. For what felt like forever, you focused your eyes on the spot near his mouth, burning it into your mind until it dispelled any doubt. 
Eventually, you slumped, more out of fatigue than anything else. “Okay.”
“Alright?”
“Okay,” you repeated, “but we’re going inside first. And I’m still checking you over.”
Boothill chuckled. “‘Course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then, he smiled, and you found yourself silently glad for the darkness, for the ability to see the radiance of the man before you in place of a sun. 
It was beautiful.
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© written by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.
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badabidiboo · 1 month ago
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see you again ꩜.ᐟ
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pairing: guitarist winter x reader
wc: 3.4k
a/n: wrote most of this like 2 months ago and absolutely did not read over what i wrote so if anything’s incoherent i apologize 😞
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the day of the concert
the concert in itself wasn’t very important for you, so you decided to wear quite a simple outfit which consisted of a short sage green summer dress paired with your favorite doc martens, along with a black leather jacket.
you decided to let your hair down and didn’t bother with a complicated hairstyle, choosing to simply use your hairdryer and style it into a blowout.
you hurriedly finished doing your makeup for the night and ran out the door, realizing you were running late as the venue doors were supposed to be opened in only 10 minutes, and you lived 20 minutes away from it…
after having to run down the stairs because of the elevator coincidentially being on maintenance, almost tripping multiple times,
you reached the parking lot of your apartment where your friends were waiting in their car.
‘’where were you for god’s sake?’’ areum yelled from the driver seat of her car. you ran to the backseat and got inside, areum backing out of her parking spot almost instantly. ‘’sorry i lost track of time’’ you spoke apologetically as you knew how important this concert was for your friends, even if it wasn’t for you.
‘’if we end up being late and can’t get in i swear i will end you y/n’’ harin spoke, sitting next to you on the backseat. ‘’don’t worry girls, i’m sure we’ll be there on time’’ juwon spoke cheerily from the passenger seat, only because of how proud she felt that she had managed to convince you to come to the concert with them.
indeed, you refused to go to this concert with your friends juwon, areum, and harin. you were usually always up for hangouts, but the band that the girls were going to see at that concert was one you knew nothing about.
the girls begged you for two weeks straight until juwon convinced you (bribed you) to come to the concert in exchange for the camera that you had dreamt of owning for the past three years.
so here you were, on your way to the concert venue. ‘’what was that band’s name again?’’ you asked as harin rolled her eyes in annoyance, she had told you so many things about the band, yet you seemed to be so uninterested that you were unable to remember any of it. ‘’it’s aespa, how come you can’t ever keep it in mind?’’
‘’well why take me to this concert if i don’t even know the band’s name?’’
‘’i’ll play some of their songs so you can get to know them before the concert then!’’ juwon declared as if she was on cloud nine.
as areum drove as fast as she could, you listened to a few of aespa’s songs, and you couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed some of them.
you finally got to the venue and saw a long line forming in front of the doors which were meant to open any second now. the girls ran to avoid being any further in line than they already were about to be, dragging you with them in the process.
after endless pushing and pulling, you eventually entered the venue and managed to find the spot you had bought tickets for. you looked up at the stage and realized you had actually gotten pretty good spots with an open view on the stage.
the venue filled up and the band members’ arrival was announced. the crowd was wild, jumping cheering loudly as the four members stepped on the stage.
after a few words, the concert started with the first song that the band played, which was called ‘’drama’’. you found yourself bobbing your head to the song from time to time as you recalled listening to it in the car on the way to the venue.
the band’s songs were mostly in the rock category, sometimes switching for an indie or even an rnb sound.
you gazed at each member, admiring their talent for singing, but also for playing instruments. you managed to identify each member, giselle being the drumist, karina at the bass, ningning as the vocalist, and finally winter at the electric guitar.
none of the members particularly caught your attention, until you started to catch one of them consistently staring at you each time you stared at her, it was winter.
why does she keep looking at me? you wondered silently. no, i’m probably mistaken, you convinced yourself, only to find her staring at you once again the next second.
you opted to do the best thing you could ever do, which was to pretend like you hadn’t noticed anything. you absent-mindedly bobbed your head and vibed to some of the songs you seemed to like, mainly to not seem like you were forced to come here (even if it was the case).
after a few moments of interacting with the fans, the band members bid their goodbyes to the audience and left the stage. however, you caught winter in your peripheral view turning her head to glance at you one last time before she disappeared backstage.
the concert eventually ended as the venue quickly emptied. you followed you friends to the exit and found your way to the huge lobby where drinks, food, and even merch were being sold.
the line to the merch stand seemed to be never-ending when you joined, since the girls viewed it as a living necessity to buy the goodies and the pieces of clothing that were sold.
‘’hey i’ll go to the bathroom real quick’’ you told the girls to which they nodded understandingly, since the line was still long ahead of you, and you weren’t gonna buy any merch anyway.
the bathroom was thankfully empty as everybody’s priority was to obviously buy merch at the stands. you left within a few minutes after washing your hands and fixing your hair and makeup in front of the large mirror on the wall.
as you walked out, you accidentally bumped against a girl, knocking your shoulder against hers. ‘’oh i’m so sorry i didn’t see you there!’’ you quickly apologized to the girl who seemed to be slightly older than you. ‘’it’s all good, don’t worry’’ she smiled brightly before walking past you to leave.
you were about to walk down the wide hallway to join your friends in the lobby, until you heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.
‘’what do you think you’re doing?’’ the person interrogated with a husky voice.
you turned around and saw the girl you had bumped into just a second ago looking up with eyes full of fear. you looked at the person who had just spoken and realized it was the girl who couldn’t stop staring at you during the concert. wait, what was her name again? you suddenly couldn’t remember.
you watched as she held the shorter girl by the arm, her grasp preventing her from walking away. she looked down at her with piercing eyes as she waited for the girl’s response, who started speaking with a wobbly voice ‘’i-i… what do you mean?’’ she smiled guiltily.
‘’then what did you just take from her? i’m pretty sure i saw you… stealing something’’ my eyes widened as i patted myself down and realized something was missing in my pocket, it was my wallet.
‘’hand it over, or i’ll have you banned from ever attenting any of our shows’’ the taller girl spoke with an ice cold voice, her eyes reciprocating that same feeling.
out of fear, the girl you had initially thought seemed sweet reached into her jacket’s pocket and took out your wallet which she had stolen by purposefully bumping into you.
she handed it to me as i took it and instantly checked that everything i had was still in it. after being sure that nothing was taken, i looked up and saw the girl briskly walking away in embarrassment.
‘’nothing’s missing right?’’ the girl asked with her usual low voice. ‘’n-no, everything’s still in here’’ you spoke with an unexpectedly quiet, almost brittle voice.
you didn’t know how to act since you knew she was a member of the band, but somehow couldn’t remember her name. ‘’i saw you in the crowd, you didn’t really seem to enjoy the show’’ she stated as she leaned against the wall.
you felt slightly guilty as you answered ‘’o-oh no i was, sorry if it didn’t look that way’’ you quickly apologized, debating within yourself whether you should tell her the truth or not.
‘’it’s just… i’m not really a fan of your band. my friends really wanted to bring me here so i ended up saying yes but-‘’ ‘’but you don’t actually know us, am i right?’’ she spoke almost teasingly with a smirk. you felt blood rush to your cheeks after she guessed what you were about to say, as you could only hope she wouldn’t see it. ‘’yes… but i do know some of your songs! rock isn’t quite… my cup of tea, but i do like a few songs my friends introduced me to!’’ i smiled, trying to save myself from the slightly awkward situation.
you realized you still couldn’t remember her name, and decided it would be best to just ask instead of humiliating yourself later on. ‘’i’m so sorry this is gonna sound so stupid but i forgot your name. i had everyone memorized but somehow i can’t remember yours anymore’’ i admitted all in one breath, hoping she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.
to my surprise, her smirk widened as she snickered ‘’don’t worry, my name’s winter’’ she answered to which my eyes slightly widened as it finally hit me, and i clearly remembered the moment where harin was teaching me the band members’ names.
‘’that’s right i remember now!’’ i exclaimed, not noticing how winter looked me up and down. i looked up and saw her tongue slightly sticking out from the side of her mouth, until she realized i could see it and quickly fixed her face expression.
‘’what’s yours?’’ she asked while crossing her arms. ‘’oh, my name’s y/n’’ i smiled warmly ‘’that’s a cute name, suits you’’ she smirked once more.
did she ever not smirk? you started to notice how frequently she smirked even during the concert, even while she stared at you every so often!
winter seemed to be deep in thought for a few seconds until she reached into her pocket and handed me something which looked like a card.
‘’what’s this?’’ i asked in confusion as i slowly took the item in my hands. ‘’it’s a pass for everytime we have a concert, they’ll let you in if you show them this’’ she explained as she stuffed her hands into her pockets.
‘’oh t-thank you’’ i smiled. i didn’t quite understand why she had given me it, as i wasn’t even a fan. ‘’s-sorry why did you give me this? i mean i couldn’t even remember what your name was’’.
she smirked again, pushing herself off the wall as she stepped closer to me, making me look up to her as she was taller. ‘’i’d like to see you again, princess’’ she winked before turning around and disappearing behind a corner.
i stood there as if i was frozen in place, looking at the direction in which she left before i lowered my gaze to the card she had given me.
after joining my friends, we bought some food and drinks before we left the building.
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a few days later
you had gone back to your daily routine, leaving your apartment early every morning to go to college where you had lectures everyday.
after hours of taking notes and focusing on the lectures, you exited the campus and decided to walk to your favorite cafe.
as you entered the nicely decorated cafe, giving it a cozy vibe, you sat down at the very back and took out your laptop to work on an essay you had to hand in soon.
you typed quickly on the keyboard while sipping on your coffee every now and then, the caffeine helping you stay energized and focused.
after a few hours, you finally finished your essay and decided to go home since it was getting dark.
while walking on the sidewalk, you were scrolling through your phone and came across a post about aespa, which showed the days and schedules when they would hold events such as fan meetings and concerts.
you noticed that the next concert was in just a few days, and that it was in a venue about 10 minutes away from where you lived.
thinking back on how winter had spoken to you and given you that card, you contemplated whether to go or not. after all, she did tell you she would want to see you again, didn’t she?
you took out the pass you had safely kept inside your bag and read the writings on it. just like winter had told you, the card had a qr code on it, probably to be scanned in order to prove its authenticity.
you reached the front of your apartment and entered as you kept wondering whether you should go to the concert or not. on the one hand, you felt like you also wanted to see winter again, but on the other hand what would you even do there? you barely knew any of their songs after all.
‘’i should probably not go, the girls would probably feel sad that i got to go without them, especially since i don’t even like the band as much as they do…’’ i thought to myself as i locked the door to my apartment behind me.
yes, this is the right decision to make, you convinced yourself.
the next day was a pretty calm one as you didn’t have any lectures, choosing to enjoy it with your friends. areum, harin, and juwon came to hangout at your place.
you had decided to order takeout and eat together while watching a movie we had all been wanting to watch, yet couldn’t seem to find an opportunity to do so together.
after the movie ended, aespa was brought up again, as it was the girls’ favorite topic. you didn’t know whether you should tell them what had happened with winter or not, until areum noticed how quiet you were.
‘’hey y/n, are you alright?’’ she asked as she searched for your eyes until you met her gaze.
‘’huh? oh yeah, why?’’ you tried to lie, but the three girls knew you all too well and instantly realized something had indeed happened.
after desperately trying to change the topic or even lie that nothing had happened, you ended up telling them the truth about you running into winter, and her giving you the pass. you even went into detail about the princess nickname she had used on you (frankly, it had you blushing a little and fighting the few butterflies that you had felt in your stomach).
the girls were shocked and even hurt that you had waited so long to tell them about all that had happened while you were away.
‘’and you didn’t tell us earlier because?’’ asked juwon with clear hurt on her face as she crossed her arms.
you didn’t really know how to answer, and finally decided to tell the truth.
‘’well… i thought you guys would be mad or jealous that i got to go to their other concerts on my own. especially since you guys are the actual fans-‘’ i got cut off by harin.
‘’what do you mean be mad or jealous? do you seriously think we would react like that?’’ she asked with furrowed eyebrows.
areum agreed with a quick nod ‘’yeah! look, if you wanna go it’s up to you, we wouldn’t feel hurt by it or anything’’ she reassured.
juwon finally spoke ‘’well actually only under one condition’’ she said as she got the three of us staring at her in puzzlement. ‘’only if you promise to get us their autographs’’ she stated with crossed arms.
the two other realized juwon was right and nodded, showing that they sided with her. i smiled at them and nodded ‘’okay then, i’ll make sure to get those autographs for you’’ i said which caused them to cheer happily as they jumped around in joy.
two days later, on the day of the concert, you started getting ready, somehow feeling like you had to look nicer than you did the previous time.
you chose to wear a black wrap skirt with a black halter top along with your favorite black kitten heels. you picked out the pieces of jewellery that fit the outfit best, and finished the look by curling your hair before styling it into a half up half down.
after doing your makeup with care, you left you apartment and this time, managed to take the elevator as it was no longer on maintenance.
areum, who was the designated driver, had insisted on taking you as she reassured it didn’t bother her. she left after dropping you off and promised to come pick you up again after the show, which had started to make you nervous as you couldn’t help but imagine winter’s reaction to seeing you again.
as you entered the venue, you looked for a good spot and ended up pretty close to the stage, only a couple of rows in front of you. slowly, the venue filled up with people, the room which was once quiet, was now loud with the excited chatters of the fans.
the lights slowly turned off as the crowd started to cheer. you looked up at the stage and saw the members appear on the stage one by one from being the curtain.
you looked closely and recognized winter, who seemed to be scanning the crowd, looking for something. she couldn’t possibly be looking for you, right?
after a short introduction, the music started playing, and the concert finally started. you noticed winter’s searching eyes constantly darting around the room, while trying to be discreet about it. everytime she lowered her eyes back onto her guitar, you could notice the disappointment on her face.
then, while she was looking at the crowd once again, her eyes met yours, a sudden sparkle making its appearance into her once dull eyes. she smirked, showing that she had noticed (and remembered) you.
you noticed her demeanor change right after you made eye contact with her, as she hyped up the crowd, which started cheering even louder.
the concert lasted for another hour until it was finally over. you were tired, yet you somehow didn’t feel like going home, not after having such a small interaction with winter, who was your initial reason for even deciding to go to the concert in the first place.
you walked down the hallway after waiting for a few minutes until the crowd left, and sighed, resigning to the fact that it was likely that you wouldn’t see winter, at least not tonight- until you heard a familiar voice echo behind you.
‘’hi again pretty girl’’ you turned on your heels and was met with the girl you were hoping to see, winter.
she was wearing her usual smirk on her face, along with a different outfit than what she had on during the concert. the comfier looking attire made her seem even hotter, you thought, the baggy hoodie and sweatpants giving to the interaction a lot more intimacy, almost letting you think she felt comfortable enough to let you see her with a disheveled appearance rather than the put together look she has in public.
‘’i guess you really came, huh?’’ she spoke lowly, stepping closer towards you until she was towering over you, looking down into your eyes.
realizing it had been a few seconds and i had still not said a word, only standing there in awe, i spoke up, failing miserably at acting nonchalant.
‘’uh y-yeah, i did’’ i mentally slapped myself at my stuttering and the palpable fluster in my voice. as if that was not enough, i started feeling hot in the face, and could only pray that it didn’t show on the outside.
winter stayed silent and seemed to observe me for a few seconds before she leaned in even closer, smirking wider than before.
‘’you’re blushing, it’s cute’’
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should i continue writing this?? 😭
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deepspacenova · 2 months ago
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LESS THAN ENEMIES
1100 words || mild hurt/comfort. injured sylus. pre-relationship. minor blood.
Note: trying out something new and joining a fandom instead of obsessing in silence for once. Please accept some Sylus whump as my humblest offering xx
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Sylus’ favorite thing is to watch her on the battlefield.
It started with Mephisto, of course. The mechanical corvid kept tabs on so many of Sylus’ subjects of interest that he’d thought nothing of programming the so-called “special” new Hunter’s likeness into its tracking rounds.
When he saw her evol, he became determined to take her. When he saw her bound in front of him, no recognition in her eyes, he became intrigued. But when she put a bullet through his chest point blank, no hesitation, he became captivated. Enraptured. Obsessed.
After the auction — and when Mephisto’s wing maintenance went from biweekly to twice a week — Sylus decided to spare himself the trouble and started going himself.
He doesn’t get too close, can’t get too close, but he’ll never get enough of her ferocity, her determination, her grace when he watches her fight for her people. For her cause.
Even if it’s in direct opposition to his plans.
Actually, his men could stand to learn a thing or two from her. In wit, in strategy, in combat.
The thought almost manages to pull a smile from him.
As much enjoyment as he takes in seeing her dominate the battlefield, to hear her calling out orders to other Hunters, to witness the shimmering waves of that damn evol, he can’t ignore the tension he feels when he does. The apprehension.
The worry.
Picturing her beautiful body cut down, wounded, bleeding… it isn’t something he likes to think about.
And that’s why Sylus watches the battlefield.
It’s a chaotic dance of guns and swords. Her Hunters and the rogue faction that ceded from Onychinus months ago clashing on the blood-stained streets.
The rest of the neighborhood is dark but calm, filled with the high pitched buzz of the street lamps on the periphery of N109. If he wasn’t scrutinizing her with such focus, it would’ve felt like he was heading out to join her for one of their midnight meetings.
She’s close to the building that’s casting Sylus into the shadows, her singular focus centered on the four men surrounding her. No other Hunters are nearby.
Sylus watches her weave a wave of power around two, freezing them in place, swords locked into a swinging motion. At the same time she turns around and traps a third, his arms get more frantic the higher she raises her gun before he drops like a stone to the ground.
She’ll will win this one, he muses, as the men he’d so generously chosen to oust from the organization rather than kill dwindle in numbers. Most of them are being tracked down by other Hunters, those that remain look like they might flee in a desperate attempt at self-preservation like the roaches they are.
Who knew the Hunter’s Association would become his pest control.
Sylus heightens the rush of power in his veins as one of the men takes advantage of her divided focus, shakes himself free of her power’s hold, and stumbles backwards, running toward Stylus’ alleyway in hopes of escape.
She lets him go without a care — of course she does — letting him get as far as the curbside. He gasps when he spots Sylus, taking an instinctive shot with what looks like a pilfered hunter’s gun just as Sylus unleashes his evol, let’s it hum through his veins to his temples as he snuffs the breath out of the man in front of him and the two next to her.
The bodies topple onto the dirty asphalt in perfect harmony, joining the other vermin she’d taken care of.
An outraged gaze whips toward Sylus. She’d known he was there.
Before he can wonder at what he’d done to give himself away she’s already marching toward him. Too irritated to make sure other Hunters aren’t following — they aren’t, Sylus has made sure — when she steps in front of him. That magnificent power isn’t quite contained yet, casting a glow around her that makes him want to reach out and…
He crosses his arms in case they make any movements he doesn’t approve of.
“They had information I needed, you overbearing—”
He narrows his eyes, ignoring a twinge in his bicep as he leans it against the building. “They’re your enemies, sweetie. Do you think they would’ve had the same mercy with you?”
“They might’ve,” she bites out. “Now, thanks to you, we’ll never know.”
He hardens his jaw. Her naiveté would get her hurt one day. “Trust me, they weren’t about to help you, they wanted to hurt you. To cut all your little Hunters down and take you with them.” Tendrils of his power wrap around her waist like a vine, yanking her toward him on a gasped breath, branding his chest with her palms.
“And, kitten?” She bites her lip, looking past his shoulder to ignore him, taking the comfort of that gaze from him. Growling low in his throat, he tilts her chin back up, tracing his thumb over the silky edge of her jaw. “I won’t let anyone do that.”
The frosty glare in her eyes melts, taking the last of her anger with it.
“I won’t either,” she murmurs. Stepping back, she takes her face from his grasp. “Alright, let’s get out of here. I don’t need any of the other Hunters catching you.”
Sylus sighs, turning his back to the bodies when lightning pierces through his arm, causing him to cover it up with an annoyed hiss.
“Sylus? Sylus. What’s going on? What’s happened?”
Trying to calm the frantic words that match her frantic hands, he grits out, “I’m fine. Must’ve happened right before I took care of those last three. It’s nothing.”
She’s grasping at his fingers to peel them away, revealing a decently sized chunk of flesh removed from his bleeding bicep.
It’s not the most severe wound he’s ever sustained, by far. Still, he’s mildly impressed that a Hunter’s bullet could pack such a punch. He’ll need to look into those.
“It’s not nothing, there’s no way that’s going to heal on its own. You need… stitches or something. I’m taking you to the base.” Wrapping one palm around his arm and the other around his wrist, she steers him by the arm in the opposite direction of Linkon. “And before you say anything, every Hunter goes through field medic training.”
It’s the same tone she uses with other Hunters, the sound of determination coated in the steel of care and concern.. and it’s for him.
She’s treating him like he’s… hers.
He ignores the sudden balloon expanding in his chest at the thought. “You know you never need an excuse to put your hands on me, kitten,” he drawls with a smirk, deciding to give himself into it, into her.
And despite the most serious injury he’s had in a while tearing into the space between his missing skin and her palm, all he can feel is a fluttering, healing warmth when her cheeks flush and her pace quickens.
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fallout-fallen-knight · 3 months ago
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Fallout New Vegas!Baldur's Gate 3 AU:
Astarion: mutant cannibal who subsists on human blood. Has found like-minded individuals at the Ultra-Luxe on the Strip, and now works recruiting young men who no one will miss for "dinner".
Gale: a researcher who ghoulified himself during a failed experiment on human evolution, who now requires mass infusions of rads to keep his condition stable and avoid nuclear meltdown. Shunned by polite society and white-tower academia, he now travels with the Followers of the Apocalypse. Does not do well in the desert.
Karlach: former super-mutant from the Master's army, on the run to atone for her sins. One of the modifications the Master made was a fusion core engine that became damaged in the destruction of the Cathedral, requiring consistent preventative maintenance if she wants to keep it from spewing rads. Currently hiding out in Jacobstown from Wyll and the NCR.
Lae'zel: Brotherhood knight who got separated from the rest of her chapter at Helios One. Unable to find where her chapter is holed up, she dedicates herself to tracking down powerful technology and destroying it.
Shadowheart: from a vault originally designed to activate latent psyker abilities that eventually spiraled into full-blown cult. Chosen to track down and recover a powerful artifact of Ug-Qualtoth that the leader of her cult desires. Doesn’t remember most of her past due to selective mind wiping.
Wyll: son of an NCR senator who enlisted with the Rangers when he came of age, and was then recruited by a woman only known as "Ms. Ora" to a special ops unit. Ms. Ora augmented his body with cybernetics and FEV, changing him into a hunting machine. He now spends his time hunting down remnants of the Master's army.
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leah-lover · 10 months ago
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Closed for maintenance . Leah Williamson × reader
Reader embarks on a new journey with a new club. Part 1.
My day started out like any other in the past 4 weeks. The beeping sound of my alarm wakes me up, I dread the thought of getting up even though I still do, I get my shit together, I leave for training, come back a few hours later and go to bed early.
My days have been blending in ever since that heart shattering break up. However, today had a little twist to it. As I was leaving the gym to go to the physioroom I got called into the Manager's office. Upon getting in, the coach said “hey, so I called you here to let you know that we are going to transfer you. You have been an absolute killer for our team. You will always have a place between us. The thing is your dynamic with the team has been off which has been causing some tension. And the best thing I thought to do was to transfer you this January.” Shock couldn't describe the state I was in. Running on autopilot, I got out of the coach's office, got my things and departed home without talking to anybody, which has been my pattern this past month.
My head was in the clouds for the entire drive, and when I got home I threw myself on the coach and started sobbing. About 20 minutes later I called my best friend the only person I trusted more than anything.
“Hey are you okay? The girls are worried about you, tell me what is going on please”said kristie with a worried tone
“Well tell Sam and the team not to worry anymore. Emma has decided to ruin my life and get rid of me. I won't be at Chelsea anymore. I am basically fired.” I replied, now more angry than sad.
“What the hell are you talking about? Are you transferred where? when? How ? Are you okay? Did you tell her?.” She asked.
“I think it will be announced tomorrow at the meeting. I don't know anything kristie Chelsea is home. Niamh is home. I can't live without them.” I replied, memories of Niamh and I fludding my brain.
“Sure you will. I love you bubs no matter where you go.” She said, “Me too buddy, me too.” I added, sadness creeping into my heart again.
—-------—---—------------------------------------
It has been an eventful week. It was announced that I would leave Chelsea for Arsenal. The topic has been the talk of the town. From newspapers, Instagram pages, fans on Twitter, Arsenal fans were excited to have me. However, Chelsea fans were bitter I was let go. Most of the mean comments were directed at Emma and Chelsea which I thought was fair. I was the leading goal scorer in the WSL and we were on a great track record to win the league again.
I got a new apartment, and a new car. I tried to begin again. A clear slate and a focus on winning with my new team, the gunners.
Today was the first day of practice. The girls are really nice. This team, this family, seem really gelled together and they seem to start getting me out of my dark hole.
“Hello you.” Said Beth, “I hope you are well and I well we want to let you know you are very welcome and we hope you have a great time with us here.” she added. “Me too “ I responded.
__________________________________
It has been over 2 months since that last interaction with Beth, who I can call my best friend now. Her, Steph ,Katie and I have been inseparable. Arsenal have been on a winning streak since I got here. I seem to enjoy the way they play and interact with each other.
The player I enjoy hanging out with the most is my second Captain, which I can never fully admit.
Leah has been fun, heart warming, safe and a friend and a good one. I can't let whatever is happening affect my career again. I dated a teammate before it ruined my career, or so I thought.
“Ladies, how are we feeling about a party? We won again thanks to wonderful strickers. Let's have a party, we deserve it.” Said Katie on the bus. Shortly after a plan was made.
We went to a bar, we drank, sang, danced, and it was that time of the night where I got hungry for warmth. Human connection however unmeaningful. So I kissed the first girl I fancied.
That's when I felt a hand separate me from the girl and drag me outside.
“You are drunk, let's go home before you do anything you will regret.” Said Leah with an angry tone. “ Let go of me, I am lonely. I need this, please let go.” I pleaded with the alcohol affecting my judgment.
“ You are a fool if you think I would let you put yourself in danger. You are important to me, you should know that. Now let's go.” She ordered.
“ I am not going anywhere with you, you are not my girlfriend.” I protested.
That's when she pulled me in for a small kiss. That felt reassuring but not abusive of my drunk state.
“ You are not kissing anyone or going anywhere tonight. Home it is. Now stop complaining and get in please.” She said with a pour on her face. I did as she said, my mind still on the feeling of her lips.
This is going to be a lot to unpack in the morning.
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ramblesbiab · 4 months ago
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Hope the CaitVi sex starts with anger and a loud track behind it, two jaded women so far from who they used to be and fed up with the world. It could be cut with clips of fights, of sweaty gun maintenance and wailing on punching bags as hands dive and grip and beg, as spit flies from mouths. But as it goes, they start to focus on each other again, Caitlyn grabs Vi’s face and whispers so quietly we don’t hear it. They hear it, though. The cuts slow down, the music starts to mellow. You better believe that Vi starts crying as she finishes. She forgot how contact like this felt. Careful, gentle moves, Caitlyn’s eyes reassuring her. They lie together quietly as Vi’s makeup runs.
Caitlyn pulls the butch to her chest, holding her as the camera moves up, as we leave them in their quiet moment. They deserve that much.
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greenglowsgold · 2 years ago
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The List.
Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.
The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.
@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend
                              -----
                              Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.
No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.
The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…
He’s going to die tonight.
It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.
Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.
There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.
He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.
His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.
Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).
Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.
He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.
He looks down, finds Mikey.
There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.
Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.
Up a bit. To the left. Leo.
The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.
The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.
The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.
The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.
Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.
Is it enough?
His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.
What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.
Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.
The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.
Is it enough? For them to be okay?
He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.
Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.
Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.
Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.
Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.
Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.
Raph.
Mikey.
Leo.
                                                            April.
                                                                                                                        Casey.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Home.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Light.
                                                                                                                         There’s light.
                                                            It hurts.
                                                            He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.
Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.
He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.
It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.
His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.
Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.
Casey calls his name once more and starts running.
Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.
His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.
Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…
He’s…
Casey, he’s…
Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.
Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.
                                                                                                                         Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.
Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.
First thing’s first: he needs a body.
It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?
In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.
In no time at all, he’s gasping.
It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.
Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.
The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.
We lost, Casey says.
They’re dead, Casey says.
It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.
All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.
Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.
(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)
It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.
Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.
He pulls up a list.
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