#so i answered those instead. next time will try to include a little blurb to make sure we're all on the same page though

[milkweedman]

wetblocking means getting it wet and letting it dry. you’ll see the term used all over fiber arts (usually just ‘blocking’, but its almost always wet blocking unless otherwise specified); for knitting or crochet there’s often an element of pinning it to blocking boards to achieve specific shapes, sizes, etc. when you get fabric wet, whatever shape it dries in is its new ‘default’ state to which it will return until the next time it gets wet.

for blocking yarn specifically, there’s no blocking boards or pins--all you need is your skein and some water. get the skein wet. let the skein dry (i like to drape it over a clotheslines to straighten it a little and give air flow). you’re done !

however, everyone does it slightly differently and has their own preferences.

some people prefer to use warm or hot water (especially if your skein is a little gross or a little greasy, washing it in hot, mildly soapy water can remove the dirt and grease), some people prefer to soak their skeins rather than wash them (put them in a dedicated wool-washing tub, bowl, pot, etc, with hot water and maybe either soap or hair conditioner to soften it and let it sit. nobody can agree upon how long exactly it should sit for--i maintain that anything past an hour is pointless except to let conditioner sit, some people will do it for a whole day or longer).

an optional step is thwacking, snapping, etc. once your wool is wet and you’re about to dry it, you can take it outside (or behind the shower curtain--this will get your immediate surroundings and yourself somewhat wet), and try any of the following:

--Snapping: snap the skein like a whip, moving your grip along the skein as you go. this helps it dry a lot faster and evens out the twist. i’ve also noticed it leads to less crimpy skeins, but i haven’t really tested it.

--Thwacking: hit the skein against something (something it wont catch on that won’t damage the yarn. a smooth fence or  the side of a very simple chair), aiming to strike near the tip of the yarn. move your grip as you go. this encourages your yarn to bloom (grow in diameter) and strengthen, which is helpful if you plan to use the yarn for warps or something hardwearing (socks, bags, etc)

--Snapping: the last way i usually come across is also called snapping, but instead place your hands inside the skein, move them away to draw it taut, and quickly bounce them further outward, making it more taut. this is more gentle than the other form of snapping, but does the same thing. ideal for smaller spaces or more delicate yarns.

this article goes into the second two in more detail, and shows a way to dry it if you want to do that before snapping/thwacking (i can’t say i’ve ever bothered, but it’s probably nicer in the winter)

Hi! I’m a new spinner. What do you think about wet finishing yarn? Like after you spin it you just get it all wet and you can thwack it. Like I think I saw you say you spun some yarn and knitted socks without getting it wet and then you just blocked the socks? What did you think about that? My plan is to make a blanket of small swatches so I think I wanna crochet each one without wet finishing first and just block the swatch….

hi ! that's a great question.

REASONS WE BLOCK YARN:

1) it sets the twist. in my sock yarn there was VERY little twist to set, so i didn't bother. in high twist or balanced yarns you'll find the yarn kinking up before it's been blocked or at least rested, which can be frustrating to knit or crochet with. also, because unblocked yarn is still actively twisting one way, your finished object will bias, meaning that a crochet square might look more like a rhombus. this can be fixed when you're blocking it, but it can also make it more difficult to gauge when the square is the right size.

2) it can change the texture, weight, drape, and yardage. a skein of cormo that i spun shrunk about 10 inches (from a two yard hank) after i blocked it. if i made something with the yarn before blocking, that item would also shrink a LOT. the cormo also puffed up a ton, so that skein went from being worsted weight to somewhere between aran and bulky. most yarns don't change quite so dramatically, but pretty much all of them do change in some way. if you crochet a square with unblocked worsted weight yarn and your yarn puffs up once blocked, your square is going to be way more dense than you thought it would be, and might even end up losing most of its drape and being kind of stiff instead. so you'll have a much easier time guessing how your finished squares will turn out if you're working with yarn that's already been blocked.

WHEN YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH NOT BLOCKING YOUR YARN

1) when you're going to be spinning a big batch of the same yarn and then doing the same thing with it. so, if you bought 2 pounds of merino roving and you plan on spinning it all on drop spindles with medium twist as a worsted weight 3 ply and then turning all of it into crochet squares.... you probably don't need to block your yarn more than once. I would still recommend blocking a little bit of it and crocheting a square with that just to see what you'll be getting, and then you can pretty much just work your unblocked yarn the exact same way and you should get the same result once blocked (but it would be prudent block a square immediately afterward just to make sure, as opposed to crocheting 100 squares before blocking any of them and finding they don't match up with your blocked original).

2) when you don't really care how the finished object will turn out. i'm actually also make a handspun blanket right now, and i know for a fact that a few of the scraps in my bucket were never blocked. at the end of the day, though, it's a scrap blanket. it's not going to look pretty and the squares are already lots of different sizes, so if one square ends up really weird i can either remake it, try and fix it, or just go with it anyway. i don't really mind ! if you feel similarly about your crafting and don't mind an imperfect finished object, then blocking may not achieve anything you care about.

OTHER OPTIONS TO WET BLOCKING

1) resting. just skein up your yarn and let it sit for a while. lots of people swear by resting their yarn instead of blocking it. the twist settles down after a week or so and kinking usually is less of an issue from there on.

pros: totally hands off

cons: takes a lot longer and doesn't necessarily allow the skein to shrink or puff up or anything like that, so you may still be taken off guard when you block your square.

2) steam blocking. hold a skein of yarn over a pot of boiling water (using tongs, and rotating the skein every 20 seconds or so to make sure you get all of it). then once the steam has gotten to all of it, let it dry like normal.

pros: dries in about 1/10 of the time of wet blocked yarn.

cons: if you drop it in the water, you will probably not have yarn anymore. it also doesn't allow for the twist to evenly distribute itself before it sets the way that wet blocking does, so if your twist is inconsistent you will notice it in the finished yarn. also, it sucks to do in the summer.

-----

as for my own personal thoughts on it...... on the one hand, i'm of the opinion that wet blocking yarn is integral to being able to work with it correctly. on the other hand, i'm a very lackadaisical crafter who usually just does whatever the hell i feel like, and so even knowing that skipping what i consider to be an important step will probably mess up my finished project a little, i still sometimes don't bother doing it ! that's what happened with the aforementioned socks, and it didn't hugely affect the finished objects because it was so low twist and they were supposed to quick and ugly. but i know that most other crafters don't necessarily approach crafting the same way, so if you want things to be perfect, then you need to prepare your materials correctly. i would say that since you are a beginner, it's very much worth learning how to do it right before anything else, but in the end it's entirely up to you !

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 2

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The aircraft door opened and you stepped out gratefully onto the air jetty. You weren’t scared of flying, you just didn’t like being cooped up in a flying tube for several hours on end. Up an escalator and along a short corridor and then you were able to see outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky was beginning to shade into the colours it would take on for dusk. It looked like it had been a nice day and you hoped the good weather would continue for your stay.

Karen had texted you while you were sitting on the plane at JFK, waiting for it to push back. Frank had told her that Micro had tracked your phone to the airport so boy, were you glad you’d turned off your old phone and switched to the new one when you did. She’d also told you that Billy had asked him to find out where you were headed, and your heart sank. You knew it wouldn’t take long for Micro’s vast and nerdy computer skills to find you but then again, London was a huge city and they’d have no idea whereabouts in it you’d gone to ground, thanks to your new ‘burner phone’.

You were feeling super-excited. This was beginning to feel like an action movie, with you on the run from the bad guys.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“London??!!” Billy shouted, making Frank quickly move his phone away from his ear on the other end. “Yeah, London,” he replied.

Billy was back at his usual post by the window. “I mean... obviously I knew she was gonna fly somewhere but I thought it would the West coast, Miami, Seattle, Alaska... somewhere like that. But to go to a whole other continent....!!!!” Frank sighed, “Yeah, Bill, sounds like she’s really not keen to bump into you anytime soon.” “Yeah, thanks for remindin’ me.” “Bill, you brought this on yourself, buddy.” “I know!” yelled Billy, “An’ all I wanna do is get her back and make it up to her for the rest of my life, and all I know is she’s in London! Do you know how big that place is?” “Yeah, I do. And t’be honest... I dunno how you’re gonna even try to find her over there.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. “I mean...” Frank continued, “I’m guessin’ you are gonna go over there and try to find her, Bill?”

Billy’s shoulder twitched upwards briefly, and he stared intently out the window at the New York skyline.

“Yeah, Frankie... yeah, I damn well am.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d left two of your big suitcases and the backpacks in a luggage storage facility at JFK, travelling with just the one suitcase and a large shoulder bag. You took the overground Heathrow Express to Paddington before negotiating a change onto the Tube to reach Tower Hill DLR station, boarding one of the driverless trains out to Canary Wharf. Settling back into your seat, feeling pretty proud of yourself for managing not to get hopelessly lost.

Your AirBnB apartment was in a part of the city called Docklands, beside the Thames on the Isle of Dogs. It was an area of shiny skyscraper offices and fancy apartment blocks built round the old docks, and your accommodation for the next two weeks was in one of those. You were suitably impressed when you got inside it... open plan, all trendy furniture and gleaming fittings. Big, big windows with views of the river and the tall buildings.

Your phone chimed and you saw a text from Karen on your notifications. Taking your suitcase and bag into the bedroom, you went back out to the main area and sat on the sofa to read it. Oh. Billy now knew you were in London, and had apparently booked a flight over - he’d be arriving tomorrow. Your heart rate sped up; Billy was a sniper, used to finding, stalking, watching his prey. But, you told yourself, he had no idea whereabouts in the city you were and no way of finding you.

Relax.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy stepped off the Heathrow Express, looking around for signs indicating where the taxi rank was. He’d been looking at the Tube map during the train journey. Nah, fuck that.

He was too wired to even think about getting to London Bridge on the Underground, or ‘Tube’ as he found out Londoners called it. His brain had been working overtime trying to figure out how the hell he was going to find her in a city the size of London. She’d stay central, surely - she wouldn’t head to the suburbs, he felt confident of that.

Getting into the first taxi in the queue, he drawled out, “The Shard, please.” The taxi driver nodded and pulled away from the station without saying anything. Thank fuck, thought Billy, I can’t be dealing with a talker right now. But just as the thought had left his head, the driver’s London accent said, “First time in London, guv?” Billy sighed, “No. No, it isn’t.” In fact it was, but he wasn’t about to tell the driver that. He’d only end up getting taken on the ‘scenic route’, double the time, double the price.

The driver grunted and turned up the radio... really annoying music could now be heard but Billy would take that over inane small talk any day. He looked out of the windows at the city streets and his mind went back to his mission. Mission impossible. Finally he saw the river and the taxi crossed a wide bridge before pulling up outside the lofty skyscraper that was The Shard. According to the blurb he’d read on some travel website it was the tallest in Western Europe, and while there were taller buildings in New York, the shape of this one made it look quite dramatic.

He paid and got out of the taxi with his expensive wheeled duffel bag, heading to the Shangri La entrance of The Shard and going inside. (It’s one of the priciest hotels in London - of course). Checked in at reception on the 35th floor, he was then whisked up to his room on the 52nd by another express lift. The windows were huge and the views spectacular.

Once again, he was gazing out of a window at a cityscape.

Where is she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your first full day, you occupied yourself with getting to know the surrounding area, doing some grocery shopping and sitting on your large balcony, enjoying the view and relaxing with a glass of wine.

Every time a plane went overhead you wondered if Billy was on it - he was due here today. You shook yourself a little, you’d just have to stop thinking about it. He wouldn’t find you.

Your mind wandered unbidden to his recent behaviour. Knowing Billy was a player from day one, you’d still got involved with him. More fool you. Another old cliché.... you thought you’d be the one to change him. And you thought you had. You’d dated him for a few months, he seemed to have ditched his old hound-dog ways and when he’d asked you to move in with him, you’d agreed without thinking it over too deeply.

Now, looking back, it seems like you’d made a big mistake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro had spent quite some time constructing a query table that he could run against accommodation reservations in London for her arrival day. She had no reason to book under another name and he’d just have to run with that assumption.

When Billy had come directly to him instead of going via Frank to ask that he try and track down her reservation, Micro had been too scared to refuse. Billy still really unsettled him - he always reminded him of a circling predator.

This query would take a while to run. He hit the go button and wandered off to work on another project while it tunnelled its way through layer upon layer of data.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was pacing his swanky hotel room like a caged panther. He’d given up on the idea of roaming the streets of London trying to spot his target, that was just one dumbass idea. He’d never find her that way, much better to just wait on that geeky twat to come up with the answer with his internet wizardry.

He’d spoken to Frank earlier, who had nothing new to report. Billy wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty at cutting him out of the loop on his recent ask to Micro. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Frank wouldn’t mention it to Karen. Much as he loved him like a brother, Frank was a big sap when it came to Karen and he knew he’d give in and tell her, probably sooner rather than later.

However Frank had told him that Madani had called earlier that day, wanting to know where Billy was and why she couldn’t get in touch with him. Billy had figured out that his girl had got herself a new phone, and he’d followed suit. Which is why Dinah hadn’t been able to reach him. “Whaddya tell her?”he’d asked. “That you were on an overseas operation and were incommunicado.” “Good,” nodded Billy, “....that takes care of that little problem for a while at least,” feeling a sense of relief.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frank cut the call, a grim smile on his face. He hadn’t been completely straight with Billy, but it was for his own good. What he’d told Madani, however, had been the unadulterated gospel truth.

He’d said to her that Billy had hared off to Europe in pursuit of his live-in girlfriend, who’d suspected him of cheating on her and left him. He was absolutely determined to get her back.

He’d taken great satisfaction in the dead silence on the other end of the line, eventually punctuated by an angry snort and the call being abruptly ended.

That ‘little problem’ was hopefully taken care of for good.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro looked at his phone as it beeped at him, the notification saying that his query was complete. That had taken much longer than he thought it would. Now he could only hope it hadn’t returned too many matches as he’d thought it prudent to run it on surname only.

He pulled up the results table and was pleased to see that there were only a thousand or so, he’d feared there would be many more. He scrolled through the list and quickly pinpointed the one he’d been looking for.

With a deep sigh he picked up his phone, typed “Wood Wharf, Water St, London E14”, a building and apartment number into a new message, then hit send. It would be the early hours of the following morning in London, so he very much doubted that Billy would leap out of bed and head right over there.

He finished eating his supper, drank a beer and settled down to watch TV when his conscience started bothering him. Should he? He shivered when he thought about what Russo might do to him if he found out.

Popping another bottle of beer open, he sat and contemplated what he should do for quite a while. He suddenly picked up his phone, sending a quick text to Frank telling him about the whole situation and including the fact that Russo now had her London address.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

While you were lounging on your balcony, sipping your wine and watching the world go by, it suddenly occurred to you that this would be a great base to work out of for a while. You messaged the estate agent and extended your stay to one month, with an option to extend if required.

Then, on a whim, you booked a flight to Barcelona early the next morning from City Airport - it was really close to your apartment even if the flights were a bit more expensive. You’d been doing a little research into other destinations to explore, and having a base in London to travel to and from made you feel much more comfortable. The W Barcelona had caught your eye while you’d been browsing for accommodation and as you were only going for a few nights, you’d booked in there.

Feeling extremely pleased with yourself, you got up and went into your bedroom, looking for a folded-up smaller travel bag you knew you’d packed in your luggage. Finding it, you began to choose some outfits for your short trip, thinking what a joy it was that you could now leave your large suitcase here.

But damn, you were going to have to be up early tomorrow. Best to get an early night, you thought, immediately yawning.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy shot up in bed as his phone chimed with Micro’s text. When he read the information in the text, contrary to Micro’s belief he did leap out of bed and started pulling on his clothes (Micro had forgotten that this was an ex-Marine he was dealing with here).

He sat back down on the bed and googled the location. Oh okay, East London.... Docklands. Too far to walk and he didn’t think the Tube ran at this hour. Then he pulled up the Uber app and booked an immediate pick-up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Walking into the terminal building at City Airport, you were in the middle of a total yawning fit when a text came in. It was from Karen and you stopped, putting down your bag so you could read it.

Karen: Sorry to tell you this hon, but Billy went direct to Micro 🙄 and intimidated him into finding your London accom. Frank’s told him not to do that again no matter how much he’s shitting himself! Please take care of yourself 💋

You: Bastard 👿 thanks for the heads-up, I will do 😘

Picking your bags up again, you hurried over to one of the automated check-in machines to get your luggage tag.

Whoever had said ‘timing is everything’ had definitely got that right.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Oi!!!” yelled an irate male voice. Billy turned his head to see a groggy-looking tousle-haired guy, obviously just having been woken up. “Keep the noise down!”

Billy said nothing, just gave the guy his death stare. His head quickly disappeared back inside his apartment.

After pressing the buttons of a few apartment numbers at the main entrance, someone had buzzed him in and he’d been pounding on her apartment door for the last five minutes. But there was no response, and he knew she wasn’t that heavy a sleeper.

He slid tiredly down onto the floor outside her door. Had she somehow known he was on his way over here? No.... how would she know that?

His head dropped down in momentary defeat and he ran his fingers through his hair, groaning.

She hadn’t moved on already, had she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The plane lifted off the tarmac, and immediately you felt a huge sense of relief. You just weren’t ready to see Billy right now - you’d probably kill him if you did, ex-Marine or not.

Now you were off on your next adventure.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

London

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[imagine-loki]

What About Trust, Chapter 1

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal.  RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: Fluff ahoy in this fic! Lots of fluff.

Cleo was just strolling along the streets in the Northern Quarter of Manchester. It was her favourite place to be and since she had a day off, she was going to make the most of it.

As she worked in an independent record shop on Oxford street, she knew the importance of supporting small local businesses instead of the larger ones. And there was plenty of quirky shops in the area, including other record shops.

But suddenly the heavens decided to open and started dumping a load of rain on top of her.

‘Shit, shit, shit!’ She had forgotten to take an umbrella. And her jacket wasn’t exactly waterproof either.

She pulled her jacket up over her head in an attempt to try and at least keep her hair from getting utterly soaked and she sprinted along the street. Then she ducked into a small doorway that had a small overhang, enough to save her from the sudden downpour anyway.

Sighing, she looked round to see what she was outside of. Her eyebrows shot upwards when she saw it was a bookshop. It didn’t look very brightly lit inside, but there was a very small sign that said open.

Unable to resist looking around a bookshop, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. There was a small bell above the door that announced her arrival. But the shop was empty, aside from books.

‘Oh wow.’ She gasped as she looked around, it was quite a small place but the owner had managed to stack hundreds and hundreds of books in, with really tall shelves on every wall and a few aisles on front of her.

There was a beautiful wooden spiral staircase just off the centre of the shop, leading to an upper floor that came out halfway, where she saw even more books.

A lit fireplace was to the left of her, in a space amongst the book shelves. It kept the place cosy and was one of the few light sources in the shop. As well as a large lamp to her right.

Cleo breathed in deeply, revelling in the book smell that surrounded her.

How she had never noticed this place before was beyond her. Considering she frequented the area all the time, pretty much every week. But she decided she was certainly going to make up for lost time now.

‘Hello?’ She called out, wondering if there was even anyone here manning the place.

There was no response. But she didn’t notice the green eyes watching her from the back corner, hidden in the shadows.

Not caring much, she started to the right and looked at some of the book titles. She felt giddy when she realised this was no normal bookshop, these were rare books. Some were foreign, a language she didn’t even recognise. But some of the books were decorated in beautiful and intricate patterns, capturing her attention.

She pulled a few books out from the shelves and went to the fireplace, where it was warmest. There was a lone green arm chair on front of it, she took a seat with the books on her lap and she started looking through the first one.

It was a William Shakespeare play that was said to have been lost many years ago, she couldn’t actually believe it was in her hands as she carefully turned the pages.

‘What are you doing?’ Came a rather cold voice from beside her.

She jumped, having not heard anyone approach. When she looked round, her eyes widened when she saw a really tall man… A really tall and rather handsome man, at that. With long black hair, nice cheekbones. He was wearing a dark green shirt and leather trousers with boots. He didn’t look like an ordinary book shop owner, but who was she to judge?

He had his arms folded across his chest and didn’t look overly pleased at her presence.

‘Oh, sorry. I did shout when I came in but no one answered… I’m reading, that’s not illegal, is it?’ She smirked up at him.

‘No, it is not.’ He drawled. ‘But this is not a library.’

‘I can see that. It’s way better than a library.’

Loki had no idea why this mortal was in his shop, reading a book and sitting on his chair. Sure, it was a book shop, but barely anyone ever came in. Never mind stayed for this long.

‘Are you going to buy that book or just put your grubby hands all over it?’ He grumbled.

Cleo narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You’re not very friendly for a shop owner. No, I am not going to be buying it, I suspect this would be well out of my price range. Do you not like to share with a fellow book lover? I was going to leave some money on my way out, I know it can be difficult for small businesses to keep afloat.’

Loki was a little surprised at her answer. And the fact she was still there, sitting on his chair. Normally when a mortal came in and stayed to look through his books, they soon scarpered when he made his presence known. Either because they recognised him, or were just put off by his coldness towards them.

‘Fine. Whatever. Just… don’t rip any of my books.’ He huffed and walked away again, leaving her to it.

Cleo was rather confused at what the hell had just happened.

‘Wait.’ She carefully placed the books down on the small coffee table on front of her and rushed after him to the back of the shop. ‘What’s your name? I’m guessing you are the owner?’

Loki rolled his eyes before turning around to face her. ‘I am… My name is Luke.’

‘Nice to meet you, Luke. I’m Cleo.’ She put her hand out towards him. He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, then shook her hand when he decided she didn’t seem much of a threat.

‘I’ve never seen your shop before, it’s quite hidden. But it’s incredible. I can actually see why you wouldn’t want it to get too busy, it would ruin the atmosphere. But it’s quite the wee gem.’ She said as she looked around, still taking it all in.

‘Thank you… You’re not from here, are you?’ He quirked an eyebrow up.

‘Nope. I’m from Inverness, but I’ve lived here for the past eight months. Much more exciting than back home.’ She smiled.

Loki nodded once. ‘Well, I shall leave you to your reading… If there areany books you’re interested in buying, let me know.’

Cleo’s face brightened. ‘I will, thanks.’

She watched as Loki disappeared through a door at the very back of the shop, it said staff only on it. She shrugged the encounter off and went back to the few books she had taken out to look at. After flicking through them, she carefully placed them back in their place and went upstairs to look some more.

As she carefully pulled a book out from its shelf, she nearly jumped out of her skin when Loki suddenly spoke next to her.

‘Are you still here?’

She held the book she had in her hands close to her chest in fright, her heart was racing but soon calmed down when she realised it was just the owner.

‘Jesus Christ. Do you always sneak up on your customers?’

‘Are you always so jumpy?’ Loki countered, raising an eyebrow. A ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Cleo rolled her eyes and looked down at the book in her hands. ‘How did you even get hold of most these? They’re so rare and expensive.’

‘You could say I’ve travelled a lot.’ Loki said as he started walking down the aisle, she followed him, curious.

‘Really? That’s cool. I’ve never been out of the UK before. But I would love to visit some countries like Iceland, Finland and Norway, for the culture and history. Those places fascinate me.’ Cleo rambled a bit.

Loki suddenly turned on his heels, going back right past her. Cleo was a little stunned but turned and followed him again.

‘How long have you had the shop?’ She asked as Loki stopped and started skimming through the shelves, looking for something.

‘A year.’ He said simply as his long fingers tapped gently along the spines of the books on the upper shelf.

‘I can’t believe I’ve only just found it. I’ve been living in the city for the last eight months, I’m around this area every week.’ She said as Loki plucked a book out, he briefly turned his back to her so she didn’t see the slight shimmer of green that surrounded the book before he quickly turned around to face her, holding the book out towards her.

‘What’s this?’ She asked, tucking the other book under her arm.

‘Nordic tales. Since you seem interested in the Nordic countries, perhaps you might find that of interest.’ Loki hummed.

Cleo’s eyes widened as she looked at the book. She looked up at Loki in disbelief. ‘I’ve been looking for an English edition of this for… years! I didn’t think one existed. I thought I was going to have to give in and google translate every single word.’

Loki scoffed. ‘Google translate is not reliable at all, believe me.’ He turned on his heels again and started heading back towards the stairs.

Cleo was too busy looking at the blurb of the book, by the time she looked up Loki was back downstairs. She hurried after him, putting the other book back in its rightful place first.

As she was rushing down the stairs, she held the Nordic Tales book out. ‘How much is this? Please, God. Let it be within my budget!’ She said as she rushed over to him by the fireplace.

Loki folded his arms over his chest and sighed, narrowing his eyes at her for a moment. Then he smiled, just a little bit. ‘Call it a gift, for a fellow book lover.’

Cleo’s mouth opened wide in shock. ‘What? Seriously? But the originals are like at least fifty quid anyway. This English version must be worth a shit load more than’  

���Do you want the book or not?’ Loki interrupted.

She nodded sheepishly. ‘I do…’

‘Well then, like I said. Consider it a gift. Before I change my mind and decide to charge you triple what it’s actually worth.’

Cleo grinned and slipped the book safely into her handbag. ‘Maybe I did get you wrong, you’re an alright shop owner.’

Loki chuckled. ‘What is it they say? Don’t judge a book by its cover.’

‘Never a truer word spoken.’ Cleo agreed. ‘Well, it was really nice meeting you. Thank you so much for the book, I really appreciate it. I’ll be back before you know it, I want to read that Shakespeare play through properly.’ She said as she started to head towards the door.

‘I look forward to your return.’ Loki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Cleo turned back to face him and grinned widely. ‘Ohh, I bet you do.’ She laughed.

As Cleo left the shop, Loki shook his head. But he smiled.

‘What a curious mortal.’

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Middle of the Trees

You can’t sleep. Calum learns about a secret talent. 

Reader Insert. No specific race or gender. 

This is was SUPPOSED to be a quick 500 word blurbs. She’s 2.4k words but we already knew I’m captain of long windedness. Please enjoy the pre-game to tomorrow’s festivies. (It’s not related at all. Just cranking out some last minute drafts before my final 5sos fic goes up.)

Enjoy my masterlist.

Support me on ko-fi

No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translations. All rights reserved. Copyright © be-ready-when-i-say-go, 2020. 

________________________________

You shouldn’t have been awake. Not this late at night. You hadn’t meant to be awake at this hour, if you’re honest. It was probably the nap from earlier, when you were out with Calum, bathing in the warm sun. Being out in the sun created a fatigue that truly was unmatched. So after your return in doors and showering, you settled onto the couch. Sleep found you without a fight. Now, now, you are paying the price it seems.

The house is settling into the quiet of the night. Duke is curled up on your side of the bed. Calum half covered by the sheets and bathed in the faintest light from the moon seeping in through the blinds. It isn’t a lot of light. Though, it helps that even in the dark you can make out the outline of Calum’s figure in the bed. There are two options, after staring at the TV in the living room, proved no use for your much too alert mind: you can curl up next to Calum and hope that the warmth of his body is enough to trick your brain or you could mess about with something in the house until the buzzing of your brained quieted. 

On a plus, Calum slept like the dead, so even if you made a little bit of noise with your choice of activity, it probably wouldn’t wake him. Padding into his office/music room, you find the keyboard he set up in the corner. Most of the room is lined with plaques and various guitars: bass, electric, acoustic. Plopping yourself into the computer chair at his desk, you roll it over to the keyboard. It turns on, the small red light letting you know so. You readjust the settings, after playing just a quick note and horns screech out at you. 

“Didn’t know that was up his sleeve,” you tease, clicking it over to the piano setting. When you play the note again, it sounds like twinkling stars and you just sit for a moment. The window’s to your left, the shades are drawn but not shut fully. Almost as if Calum had closed them part way through the day, at some point because it was too much light. 

From here, your view is mostly backyard and privacy shrubbery but you can imagine that on just the other side is the road. And who knows if cars are passing by at this time of night, but they could be. And inside those cars are kids laughing as they are taken back from some party.  Or maybe it’s just someone trying to clear their head. The weight of everything has finally pushed their spine too far and if they don’t do something, don’t do anything, they’re sure to snap. 

Maybe cars are just out because folks are heading home from the late shift, heading out to the late shift and all around are just folks living lives. And you are here. Sitting at a keyboard, hoping that your fingers find something to say. But that is a life living too, you suppose. You are a life living too. By the time you turn your attention back to the keys, your fingers are moving and the haunting sounds swell for a moment, trail off and up near the higher end, you pick it back up. 

There’s nothing wrong with where you are, of course. It’s comfortable. It’s familiar and it’s not that you’re bored with Calum, or the relationship. But part of you wants to hear cars going by. You want to be in those cars, sometimes. You don’t think your youth was snatched from you but you do think that maybe you had always been a little too cautious, had always played things a little too safe. 

There’s life happening in this house, you remind yourself, fingers running down the scale. It gets like this sometimes. Having you remind yourself that there’s nothing wrong with the way you’ve played your cards. They’ve worked out for you. And it’s only at night, when you’re alone with your thoughts that you start to second guess everything. You always joke that it’s a talent that takes years to perfect to overthink like you do.  Really it’s not so bad, it’s not. 

The keys sing out for a moment longer, waiting for more of your fingers to work magic over them. But all you can do is just sit and stare and imagine the neon lights bathing a street in their glow and how heels are clicking against asphalt and how someone’s bent over their plate of greasy food. Or maybe someone’s leaning into a wall, in a too brightly lit dinner, praying for the sun to finally lift the curtain of darkness. 

“You never said you could play piano?” It’s Calum’s scratchy and hoarse voice from behind you. 

You shrug before spinning around in the chair. “I only play by ear mostly. Not trained to play it really.”

He shuffles, scratching at his scalp for a second before that hand stretches out. “Well, you sound lovely. Bed?”

“Can’t sleep,” you answer, trailing your fingers over his skin. It sends a shiver down his spine at how cold your fingers are and how soft the touch is; he’ll never get used to it. It’s been a year as if and it always catches him off guard. 

His fingers wrap over yours and tugs to bring you to your feet. “Teach me.” It’s a soft command and in the darkness as your eyes have adjusted you can see and hear how sleep is still holding onto him. He probably woke up to go to the bathroom or maybe the piano playing woke him. 

“Did I wake you?”

Calum doesn’t answer. Instead he settles into the chair and pats his lap. “Teach me.”

You shrug. “I don’t--I don’t even remember what I played. It just,” you gesture for a moment, like vomit coming out of your mouth. 

He shrugs. “Play me something else then.” The command comes with another pat to his thighs. 

You don’t raise anymore arguments and settle into him. Calum turns the hair with his feet, arms wrapping around your waist. His breath tickles your back. Your fingers settle curled and ready for your thoughts to carry them. But for a moment in time, all you focus on is the way Calum’s breathing causes his chest to just brush up against your back. You let yourself breathe in time with him for a moment. 

The first note hits the air and it lingers, nearly fading out before the next one accompanies it. It’s a dance, you see now. Two people who have fallen in sync with each other. The tempo you’ve created makes you think of a waltz, dazzling lights and the clinking of tea cups against their porcelain saucers. You think about when you were a kid and thought about how magical a moment it is to find the one, to lock eyes across the room with the person that will get to see your soul, naked and truly you. 

Somewhere in the years that childlike wonder when it comes to love tarnished.  Maybe it’s all the hearts that weren’t gentle with yours and maybe it’s all the hearts you weren’t gentle with. Maybe it’s the beds you almost got into. Maybe it’s the friends that you lost contact with just because that’s the way the world spins. People come in for a season and you want them to stay for harvest. How fucked up is it, to have a heart that yearns to be loved and to give love, but manages to get attached to the wrong people, to know that even things with pure intents can be mistakes.

Calum squeezes your waist. The particular harsh throaty croaks catch his ears and he’s not sure where this is going, what’s happening but he wants you to know that he’s here. He won’t let you fall. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing and leaving behind in their wake a trail of tingles. 

“Do you remember your dreams?” you asks, finally bringing your gaze back to the keys in front of you and not the beige wall. 

“I don’t think I dream much anymore. Not any ones that are interesting really.”

“We all dream. You just don’t remember them that’s all.”

Calum chuckles, leaning a bit to the side to see your face. “There’s one dream. That keeps coming back.”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember your dreams?”

“I asked you first.”

With a kiss to your back, he exhales deeply. “I’m in some sort of field. Tall grass. Some flowers. But there’s this dirt path in front of me. It splits into two and one’s into some deep forest. The other seems to go on for miles with more field, most flat land. Can’t see the end for either one of them. And I’m just, like, standing there. Really. That’s it. Just standing.”

“Never pick a path?” you ask letting the run play once, then twice, then a third time in half speed. 

“Well, if I pick the forest. I meet an angel halfway through. Can’t really make out any details. Just a general human like figure in bright light. I try to talk to them. But they’re silent, singing up into the skies for what seems like forever. I can stand there as long as I want and they never drop the note.” As the sentence leaves his mouth, he notices that you replay the same note once, twice, a third time and even a fourth. 

“What’s in the forest?”

“Besides some trees and the angel?” You nod. Another exhale from him tickles your skin. “Not much. Not much animal life. No wind. Just us two. I can walk down some more. It’s more trees that outline the path and a river. Sometimes I skip the angel and just go straight to staring up through the clear water of this river, up to the bright sun and I just float. Let the current take me. I can float right pass my mum. She never hears me under the water. My dad’s a little further down. He doesn’t hear me. Mali’s there too. The guys. Friends from back in Australia. None of them can hear me and then that angel comes back, like right at the end after everyone else has seemingly just let me go by. They’re right there. I almost don’t even try with them, you know. Just figure that if the end has to take me it will. But they see me. They’re watching and it’s like finally my arms can break through the surface of the water. And they just latch on.”

“Do you think you needed to be saved? Or just wanted it? Like do you know that there’s danger on the other side?”

Calum hadn’t thought about that. By the time he’s free from the water he’s awake, or his alarm is going off. “I don’t know if there’s danger.”

“What’s down the other path?” Your fingers are still carrying over the keys, you’re thinking that flat plains need half notes. What’s the worst that could happen? You know you won’t be staying there long, not if there’s more to Calum’s dream. 

“I’ve never gone down that path. I’ve wondered about it. But any time that dream happens I always choose the forest.”

“Is there anything you want to be down there? Do you wish it a path to something?”

“I wouldn’t even begin to have an idea.”  

That’s content if you’ve ever heard it. If you ever had to play a song for it too. “I think you want to be saved. You don’t need it. Just want to know that people are there for you.”

“Maybe,” he hums in agreement. The music hasn’t stopped but it has slowed. The notes have more space, the sit longer, ring longer in his ears. “Do you remember your dreams?”

“Nah, I think they hate me.”

“They don’t hate you. You’re, like, the least hateable person in the world.”

You scoff, gaze falling back outside the window. Maybe all the cars have parked now. Maybe the kids finally got home. That late shift ended for that one person and just started for the other. There are no more heels to click. No more fries to scarf down. No more grease to pop at the skin. 

“Anxious again?” The question is soft. You almost don’t hear it from Calum’s lip, but you do feel it as he speaks. 

“Little bit, I guess.”

“Wanna go for a ride tomorrow?Maybe pack up and just see what’s out there for a day?”

“We can, yeah. Maybe it’ll help.” Maybe it’ll make you feel human again, connected to the masses but still living your own life. You play it out, thinking of what an angel means and what it must feel like to finally break through that water. How relief must flood his body and his veins. 

Release. To let go. Release. What a relief. And soon the keys have no more life in them, no more croaking or groaning or taps from your fingers and you just let things sink, fall how they must out and maybe it’s okay to let go. 

“Yeah we can go for a ride,” you say. Only to be meet by silence. Calum’s breath is deep. You can feel it in your back. His hold around you has slackened just a little and you know he’s falling, giving into sleep--if not already there. 

You turn off the keyboard and tap his forearm. It wakes him. “Sleepy?” he asks. You’re sure his eyes are closed. 

Sleep hasn’t gripped you yet. But you and Calum should probably get back to bed, especially him. “On it’s way,” you return, knowing sleep will find you, just not as immediately as it found Calum. 

He hums, pushing back and after you stand, he shuffles back to the bedroom. The sheets smell like him and a little bit like Duke, but they’re a packaged deal. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. You lay on your back, fingers trailing over the skin of Calum’s forearm slung over your stomach. 

“I do remember my dreams,” you whisper. Calum hums, fingers flexes a bit and squish the flesh of you side. He doesn’t say anything though. So you continue on. “I’m standing in a field. Tall grass, some flowers. There’s a dirt road. It diverges and I don’t head further down into the fields. I go up into the trees. And I bathe myself in sunlight as a traveller comes by. They never seem lost. They just continue straight on, past me, down to the river. Sometimes I find them floating around. Sometimes I save them. But every time, we meet, in the middle of the trees.”

[freddiesaysalright]

My Man - Bonus Blurb

Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Tag List:  @bohemian-war, @kittygirlno, @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess, @rockyroadthepastryarchy, @goodoldfashionedloverboyy, @jennyggggrrr, @discodeacygotmorerhythm, @x1975sos, @slytherinxval, @cyndagoaway, @doingalrightt, @lovvliies, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @capsparrowtara, @they-call-me-peaches, @hyosong, @riddikuluslypotter, @orchideax, @shishterfackisback Sorry if you miss it, so many people have new URLs lol 

A/N: I’ve had this idea kicking around for a while, so while requests are closed, I wanted to go ahead and write it. I hope y’all enjoy!

With a quiet click of the lighter, Roger lit his cigarette. The girls were inside and occupied, and you had Daniel with you to do your shopping. This meant Roger had one blissful moment to enjoy a cigarette on the back porch. He’d taken one drag when he heard the back door open. He almost groaned but he heard  a little sniffle. He whipped around expecting to see blood or some other carnage, but Darcy stood in the doorway, just holding a picture frame.

“Daddy?” she questioned. “Who is this?”

Roger set his cigarette in the ashtray and beckoned his daughter over to him.

“First things first, where’s Ophelia?” he asked.

“Still napping,” she answered.

“Alright,” he said. “C’mere, lovie. Who are you asking about?”

She walked out to him and held out the frame. It was George’s military portrait. His eyes went wide and he wondered how she found it. You kept it in the bottom drawer of your nightstand. Roger knew that one day your children would have questions when they would inevitably come across photos of your previous marriage. He just never expected it to be so soon. And he certainly didn’t expect to be alone.

“Do you know him?” Darcy pressed as she crawled into his lap.

“Somewhat,” he replied. “I never met him. He actually knew your mother.”

“How?”

“He was married to her.”

She shot him a horrified look. He almost laughed, but held back. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he said. “Your mother and I are married now.”

“What happened to him?” she wondered. “Why aren’t they married anymore?”

“Well, he died,” he told her. “You see the uniform he’s got on? That means he was a soldier.”

“He died?!” she cried. “Is Mum okay? Doesn’t she miss him terribly?”

Roger chuckled. “Yes, Mum’s okay. And she does miss him. In fact, when I met her, she still missed him so much, she was sad about him all the time. She carried around a smaller version of this very photo in her pocket.”

“So she loved him?”

“Very much.”

“As much as she loves you?”

He paused. It was such a complex thing to explain to a child and he wasn’t sure if he could make her understand.

“I think so,” he said. “She loves me differently because I’m a different man. But she married me and had kids with me, so I hope it’s at least as much.”

“They never had kids?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. They didn’t have much time. After they married, he joined the Army and he was away a lot.”

“That’s sort of like you,” she said.

Roger swallowed the sting of that. “It’s different with me. I’m not in much danger where I go. He put his life on the line to help other people.”

“And that’s why he died?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“So which of you is Mum’s true love?” she asked. 

He sighed and inwardly cursed Disney for perpetuating the idea of a single “true love.” 

“We both are,” he said. “They loved each other when they needed each other. I love her now. Just because you lose someone, doesn’t mean you can’t fall in love - true love - again.”

“Oh…” she trailed off. “Mummy is very lucky, isn’t she?”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he said.

“You are?”

“I am. You see, your mum didn’t have to let me love her. She didn’t have to let herself love me. She made a choice. She liked me, but she chose to let go of her grief and take a chance with me. It worked out for both of us, I think.”

She sat on this a moment, her little face scrunching with thought.

“I can’t picture Mummy with anyone else,” she said. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to,” he returned. “Because now it’s gonna be me and her forever.”

“One more thing,” she said.

“What is it?”

“What was his name?”

“George,” he told her. “His name was George.”

She handed him the frame and he set it on the table.

“What were you doing looking through the nightstand, lovie?” he wondered.

“I was looking for glue,” she said.

“Glue? What for?”

“My school project,” she explained. “Making a family tree.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “Just to be sure, you didn’t look in my nightstand, did you?”

“No,” she said, furrowing her brow.

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. “Don’t. There’s - uh - no glue in there. Try the kitchen first.”

“Okay,” she chirped.

A beat passed.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yes, love?”

“Does Mum still speak to George’s mum and dad? Like she talks to Nan?”

“No,” he said. “George’s mum and dad passed away shortly after he married your mum.”

Her mouth fell open. “Whaaat? So - Mum’s the only one around to remember him?”

“She’s the only one,” he told her.

“That’s no good,” she said. “Can I add him to the family tree? He’s Mum’s family.”

Roger’s eyes welled up at the sentiment. Just when he didn’t think he could love his little girl any more, she said something like that. How he fathered a child with such a pure heart, he would never understand.

“Of course, lovie,” he said. “Your mum would love it if you did.”

“And Uncle Jack too?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What about Uncle Fred, Uncle Bri, and Uncle John?”

“No, no, they’re ridiculous, you don’t need them on there,” he said with a laugh.

“But I love them!” she insisted.

“But you haven’t got room for their partners and children,” he reminded her. 

“With enough paper and glue, I have,” she retorted.

“Alright then, Darcy, you do what you want,” he complied. 

“Besides, Uncle Fred and Uncle Jim don’t have children.”

“Now, they will be very cross with you if you leave out the cats.”

They went back and forth another moment and brainstormed, but ultimately decided it would be too much to have the band on her family tree. Roger assured her she could include them somehow in her next project about family. Once she was satisfied, she scrambled off his lap and disappeared inside to work on the project. Roger looked at the now burned up cigarette. He glanced at George’s photo.

“That one’s yours, mate,” he said.

He lit up another and took a long drag. Then the door opened again. He turned to see you standing there with your sleeping son in your arms.

“Hello, love,” he greeted warmly as you walked out to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey,” you returned.

You wiped away the lipstick that had transferred onto his skin with your thumb. 

“Rog.”

“Yeah?”

“Why is George’s photo out here?”

He chuckled and explained what happened. He told you what Darcy asked and exactly how he answered her. You looked thoughtfully at him.

“Was I wrong?” he asked.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”

“She handled it well,” he assured you.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help,” you said.

“No worries, darling,” he replied. “I think it’s not nearly as big of a deal as we thought it would be.”

You smiled and hummed. With another swift peck to his cheek, you got up and went inside to start dinner.

After your meal with your family, Darcy insisted on showing off the family tree she had made. Roger waited to see your face. He left out the bit about her including George, and he was eager to see your reaction.

You read over the names, beginning with Roger’s mother and father. She included Roger’s stepfather as well. A nervous twinge went through you, since you’d never told your kids about your parents. She had left that area blank, but out beside your spot there were three lines. One for Jack, one for Roger (beneath which were the children), and then one for George. Your heart constricted at the sight.

“Oh, Darcy,” you choked out. “You are the sweetest girl.”

“I thought...y’know, we could be his family,” she said. “Because his parents are gone. But he should be remembered, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” you told her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome?” she returned, a little confused.

She ran off to put it beside her school things so she wouldn’t forget it in the morning. You turned watery eyes on Roger.

“How did we get her?” you whined. “How did we get to lucky? Is she even ours?”

He laughed. “I thought the same thing.”

You took his hand and brought him out of his chair to embrace you. You held him close, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.

“You’ve given me everything,” you breathed. “A home, love, three beautiful children. Roger, you’re the greatest man. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Darling,” he said. “You’ve given me those things as well. We did them together.”

You pulled away and he wiped your cheeks. 

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to put them to bed.”

“You want to tuck them in while I start on the dishes?” you offered.

He shook his head. “No, love. Together.”

Hand in hand, you went upstairs to kiss your children goodnight. 

The next morning, you came downstairs to see Roger and Darcy placing George’s photo on the mantle. You smiled. What a gift it was to have your first family be a part of your second.

[bohemian-napsodyy]

OK, how about a blurb for introducing Ahk to modern culture and technology and his reactions!

OH MY GOSH THIS IS SO PRECIOUS I LOVE IT 😭❤️thank you for the idea!!!

Ahk would kind of be familiar with some modern technology

mostly from the display screens and computers and phones throughout  the museum

not gonna lie though, he did initially think those were some sort of weird artifacts from another ancient culture

it was a museum after all, and everything else were either exhibits or artifacts?? right???

you just kind of assumed that Ahk knew about modern technology thanks to Larry, so when you brought your laptop with you one evening hoping the two of you could make fun of watch The Mummy, Ahk sees it and he just GASPS

and his eyes get really big

and he just… cant stop staring at this thing???

“Your gods must be extremely powerful, Y/N.”

You’re so confused, where did all this talk come from??

“…My people could not even contact Isis with this much success. This is truly a magic tablet.”

and then you just bust a gut laughing

“Oh, no Ahk, it’s not- I mean- it’s just a-”

you’re seriously trying so hard to stop laughing but Ahk’s expression of wonder that still hadn’t gone away was just too adorable and priceless

“Wait, has Larry shown you what an iPhone is yet?”

the blank look on Ahk’s face tells you everything

which gives you the greatest idea

“Go grab a change of clothes from the break room, Ahk. We’ve got a change of plans tonight.”

Instead of watching The Mummy with him at the museum, you bring him back to your apartment with the intention of catching him up on all the technology and culture he’s missed over the (hundreds of) years

his favourite inventions include your KitchenAid (which he keeps turning on and off, amazed by the fact that this thing can stir things completely by itself), your phone (”you mean you can speak to someone across the ocean through this!?”), and YOUR RECORD PLAYER

that boy loves music

before you can explain what it is and how it works, Ahk cuts you off by holding up his hand

“Y/N, may I attempt to explain how this works?”

you giggle, and let him go ahead

after what seems like 10 minutes of intense scrutinizing and hmmmms and little concentration frowns, Ahk finally has an answer

“There’s little shabti figures inside the box playing instruments, isn’t there?”

you lose it, and are almost doubled over from laughing

you don’t even know what shabti figures are, but Ahk just seemed sO SURE OF HIMSELF

you put on The Beatles for him to listen to

“These guys were like… revolutionary in the music industry.”

*cue another awed gasp from Ahk* “Does that mean tHEY’RE GODS??”

he doesn’t really understand memes (or Vines for that matter), but he laughs at them really only because you do

your laugh is just so contagious

and Ahk will laugh along with you even though he doesn’t understand like any of the references 

I cannot stress the next point enough:

SLOW DANCING TO SAM COOKE 

and Ahk initially not knowing all that much about how to slow dance because they didn’t really…. dance slow in his time

but you show him where to place his hands and you lightly kiss his nose

“just follow me Ahk, it’s not that hard”

is it possible for humans to do the heart eyes emoji??? because Ahk definitely did that

especially when you went to spin him around and he got confused and he kinda crashed into you, full of giggles and all

once you brought him back to the museum, just as he’s getting back into his sarcophagus you hear him call out your name

“yeah, Ahk?”

“Thank you. I had plenty of fun tonight.”

you’re beaming so much you feel as though your smile might fall right off your face

“Can we dance at your home again tomorrow?”

you can’t help but run over and give Ahk one last Snug Hug

“Of course Ahk. We can dance together every night.”

WOW THIS WAS NOT A LITTLE BLURB THIS WAS A BIG BLOORB™ I’M SORRY

(also not that anyone cares but shabti figures [mentioned above] were these tiny little clay dolls that Egyptians put in their tombs so that they could follow the dead and be their servants in the afterlife :)

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves [drabble]

A/N: I’m tired, ya’ll, and two Excedrin’s later, this damn migraine will NOT go away! :( All prompts will be finished tomorrow morning/afternoon! Promise! 

In the meantime, here’s this random ass blurb I wrote like two days ago that was inspired by the included pic. :/

TAGS: @honeyybey @purple-apricots @90sinspiredgirl @mbaku-babygirl @killuzumakii

"I just took a DNA test, turns out I'm 100% that bitch."

"Summer."

She smiled, looking over at him to see that he was giving her the "be quiet" look.

Instead of obeying, she straightened up and lifted her elbows off the counter. Using the view of herself provided via her propped up phone, she folded over the band of her shorts and tugged on her bra strap.

"You coulda had a bad bitch, non-committal. Help you with your career just a little,” she continued to sing along, turning sideways as she playfully twerked. "You're 'posed to hold me down, but you're holding me back. And that's the sound of me not calling you back."

"Summer!"

She laughed, covering her face while she grabbed her phone. Summer sauntered over to the other side of the kitchen and placed her phone against one of the kitchen aids.

She bent over to make sure it wasn’t going to fall while taking a few minutes to read the comments from the people who were watching the Live.

Summer rolled her eyes and withheld her smirk as he moved behind her, taking an unnecessary amount of time to reach for the mixer while pressing his crotch into her backside.

"Moveeeee," she stressed the ‘e,’ wiggling to push him off. Before he finally moved, he slapped her ass. "Annoying." Chris chuckled as she rolled her eyes and continued to read. "Hurry up. I’m hungry."

"Why don’t you tell them why you have me up here at 3am, baking you a cake," he grunted, going back to fix his wife’s late night craving.

"Because you looovvveeee me," Summer spoke in a sweet voice. "Right, baby?"

"Fuck off."

She gasped, turning to look at him. "Baby." Nothing. "Christopher." She fake pouted. "He’s so mean to me."

Is he really making you a cake in the middle of the night? 😩 I hate this bitch.

I love how he’s complaining yet still doing it 😂😂😂

Girl, you got that boy so whipped. TEACH US YOUR WAYS, AUNTIE SUMMER 😣

If I asked my man to bake me a cake, he’d break up with me. I need me a Chris 😭😭😭

Tell him you get your cake, he gets his. 👀👀👀

Summer snorted at the last comment. "Girl, why you think I’m trying to get him to hurry up?" She stuck out her tongue and twirled her hips. "I missed my man."

"Show me."

"Feed me."

"I tried. You said you needed a break."

Her eyes widened. "Christopher!"

"Is it a lie?"

"No, but that doesn’t mean you have to broadcast our sex life to all of Instagram."

He rolled his eyes. "I don’t think it’s a secret that we have sex, Heat Index. We have children."

"Those are your kids," Summer quickly interjected, tapping her purple nails against the custom granite. "Badasses."

"She’s upset they like me better."

"Lies," she hummed. "They just can’t get over on me like they do you." Reading the comments, she saw that people were asking what happened. "Ya’ll, he came back home today, right? Tell me why those little traitors barely said five words to me since." Summer feigned annoyance. "Papa comes home, and they forget all about mama."

"They could never forget you, sweetheart. They just ignore you."

She stood up, staring at him with a dropped jaw. "What? It’s true."

As the next song came on, she flipped him off while turning her body away to playfully dance.

"I’m not a teacher, babe, but I can teach you something."

I love how she’s not afraid to show off her stretch marks and tummy.

"Y’all know I’m 100% for keeping it real," Summer spoke, lifting up her shirt to show the stretch marks on her stomach and side. She then turned to the side and tugged on her shorts to show the ones on her hips as well as leaning over to share the ones on her chest. "I have a lot of them now that I think about it," she laughed and shrugged. "I always have, actually. But I could care less because I love em, my husband love em, and that’s really all that matters."

She continued to dance and hum along, watching Chris pour the batter in the bundt pan.

Y’all remember the time Summer was on Live and said she’s not that good at twerking, and Chris said she could come practice on his dick? Well, that ass is MOVING 👀👀👀

Summer busted out laughing. "I actually forgot all about that. But I mean...." She winked and looked over to see Chris setting the timer. "Yay! It’s in the oven, ya’ll!"

"Shut up."

"Thank you, baby," she grinned, jumping on his back and kissing the side of his neck. "Te amo."

Chris pretended to bite her hand while walking over so that they were in view of the camera.

"What are they saying?" She asked as he placed her on the counter and leaned over to read the comments.

CHRIS 😍😍😍

A WHOLE snack 👅👅👅👅

I’ve never been so jealous of a celeb 😭 Chris really just out here existing with his sexy ass

Did she even help him? 😂😂

"No," he answered. "She never helps me, but that’s fine. I’d rather her not burn down the house-"

"Babe!"

"Thermometer, the people of Instagram know that you cannot cook."

"He’s so mean to me!" Summer complained, reaching over to grab and lick the spatula.

"She’s always waking me up," he replied to another comment. "It’s either because she wants me to fix her something to eat, she needs me to kill a bug, or she wants to have sex. Not that I’m complaining about the last one."

"Christopher, stop exposing me!" Summer hit him on his arm. "And these are not just regular bugs. Australia has these mutant ass bugs. I almost died the first time I saw a spider. I’m terrified of insects, and he knows this."

Summer ain’t slick. We don’t care about those bugs, sis. Let’s talk about that S-E-X.

I’m honestly not paying attention to a damn thing that’s being said because these two are literally fucking stunning.

Break up with your wife cause I’m bored 👀👀👀

The real question is how often does he actually get up and cook for her though 😐😐😐

"Every time. Why would I not?" Chris seemed genuinely confused by the insinuation that he’d just ignore his wife’s wishes. "She wants or needs something from me, she has it. No questions asked."

"Can you make me another cake for tomorrow?"

"Fuck off, Celsius."

Her jaw dropped as she kicked him in his ass while he laughed. "Don’t let him deceive you. He’s actually an asshole."

"Lies."

"No, but really, guys. Christopher does all of the cooking. I do breakfast, but lunch and dinner are all him." She supplied. "And when he’s gone, I have a private chef come to make everything because the kids literally hate when I try to cook. They only eat Papa’s food."

Chris grimaced. "You really tried to make them eat your cooking? I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to use cruel and unusual-" he was cut off by her jumping off the counter and hitting him in his stomach. "Assault!"

"Shut up. I am so sick of you." She pretended to be upset as he easily grabbed her by her waist and lifted her up. "He’s the real bully." She squealed as he squeezed her sides, specifically where she was most ticklish. "Put me do-Christopher!" Summer both gasped and laughed as he pushed on her back, forcing her to bend over as he thrust into her from behind.

WE FINALLY GETTING THE SEX TAPE, YALL!

GOD IS REAL! 😱

Drop the clothes. I’m trying to see something.

In the kitchen though? Y’all nasty nasty huh 👀

"Guys," she kept laughing as Chris refused to loosen his grip on her hips. "I have to go take care of my husband-"

"Or let your husband take care of you." He mumbled, giving her ass a squeeze before moving out the view of the camera.

Summer’s eyes widened slightly as she caught his drift before she abruptly ended the Live.

“Bye.”

[outerspaceisbetterthannothing]

hmmm, alpha cal is my weakness, like, it’s A Problem. what about him figuring out you’re pregnant cause you smell different? he can smell your normal scent, but there’s something else mixed in, & he doesn’t realize it at first. but then it hits him. & maybe you aren’t really Ready (like, you weren’t trying but you also weren’t not trying) to be pregnant & you freak out a little & you’re worried about not being a good mom and he uses his alpha voice and tells you you’ll be such a good parent 🥺

Okay, hi hey hello, welcome to the weak alpha!cal hoes club! hope you’ll like it here, lmao! also, thank you for that blurb! it’s so soft and so in character with what i’ve written for alpha!cal before, might use it in my future writing for that concept. Also i legit teared up while writing it, so i really hope you’ll like it 😅

It’s been several months since your human wedding and more than a year since you got your mating mark from Cal. You’ve stopped your birth control some time ago. He didn’t ask you to, you just knew he didn’t like it. You weren’t sure you both were really ready for the family, but Calum dreamed about being a father, so you just did it. Even though you weren’t safe at all (and lbr, more than just passionate in the bedroom, or in any other room of your house for that matter) you somehow were absolutely sure you won’t get pregnant. After all, it was your body and it wouldn’t do it to you before you’re ready. Little did you know your body was also Cal’s body.

So when Calum came home the other day, tired and grumpy, and scrunched his face like he smelled something he didn’t like, you didn’t pay much attention to it. He refused to eat and headed straight to the bedroom, where crashed on the bed not even changing.

“What’s that smell?” he asked, as you entered the bedroom.

“What smell?” you tried to sniff, scrunching your nose in a cute way, making Calum smile at how adorable you were.

He shrugged, “It’s just, I smell you, but also something else, something unknown,” he tried to explain.

“I’ve used new recipe when cooking meat today, it’s probably just spices on my hands,” you suggested, sitting on the floor next to his side of the bed and stroking his hair softly.

“I’m sorry, baby, wanted to try, just not hungry at all,” hu muttered, closing his eyes and drowning in the feeling of your tender fingers in his hair.

“That’s okay, i’ll cook it again,” you promised. “Let’s just put you out of these clothes and into a shower,” you said, tugging on his jacket.

“Won’t you love me clothed and dirty?” he asked.

You laughed. “I will. But it will be you grumbling in the middle of the night because you fell asleep in your shoes. And then you’ll wake me up with the noise of water.”

“Have I ever told you, you’ve got too much sass for a little omega?” he quirked an eyebrow, sitting up on a bed and turning to you.

“Once or twice,” you admitted, helping him with his jacket and leaving feather-like kisses on his cheek.

The next time happened couple days after that. You two were lounging on the sofa, you had no idea what was on TV, not interested in anything besides your alpha’s heartbeat you were listening to. Calum was slowly stroking your back, when his hand stopped on your waist and you felt a slight shift in his mood.

“You’ve changed your perfume?” he asked, confusion in his voice.

“No,” you answered, just as puzzled as he was. More importantly, you didn’t use any perfume after you took shower earlier, being aware Calum loved no scent more than your natural one.

“I can smell that other scent again,” he said, you raised your head at him. “It’s like i smell you, but there’s something else, like an undertone or something.”

You frowned. “Cal, i have no idea what you’re talking about, i don’t smell anything,” you confessed.

He just hummed and dropped the topic, kissing your forehead and switching back to the film.

You knew he was thinking about something he didn’t want to tell you. But you also knew there was no point in asking.

You’ve got all the answers you needed the very next day though, when Calum came home with a back from the nearest pharmacy. He said he bought it for you and watched you intently while you were opening the bag.

You knew he caught in everything. The way your lower lip twitched and how your hands started to shake and how your eyes were full of fear, when you finally found your courage to look at him.

“You don’t think it’s that, do you?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said softly, pushing you towards your bedroom. “I’ll wait in the room, while you’re in the bathroom, yeah?”

You gave in, thinking it was the easier way to escape his presence just for a moment, being separated by the door. You did waste some more minutes just looking in the mirror and trying to stop your hands from shaking. He didn’t ask how you were doing or try to hurry you, his wolf hearing letting him know everything happening in the bathroom. You knew he felt your fear through your mating mark and were forever grateful he gave you these several minutes alone.

You thought you were scared before, but the panic raising inside at the sight of a positive test was something else. You half fell on the tile floor of your spacious bathroom and curled, clasping on your legs and hiding your face in your knees.

He felt something was wrong with you. He knocked and asked if he could enter, ever though the door wasn’t locked. When you didn’t answer, he entered and sat down on the floor next to you. He must have seen several more positive tests on the counter and didn’t need to ask you about the result. Instead he rubbed your arms and softly asked, “Look at me, bub.”

You didn’t, too caught up in the sheer horror of the situation. He sighed and repeated in the low alpha voice, more of a wild roar, thn a human phrase, “Look at me!”

You couldn’t resist a direct order. You lifted your head and met his dark brown eyes, lightening up with every second, till they became almost golden with brown specks in them.

“Now, breathe,” he said. Not an order this time, but you obeyed.

“What are you so afraid of?” he asked, when you calmed down enough to at least hear him. “We’re gonna be parents, my love. We made a little pup and soon he, or she, will come to this world and make us even happier. And they will have your beautiful eyes and be the most precious little pup in the world. You should be happy. Why are you so afraid?”

You just shook your head and closed your eyes, tears suddenly streaming down your face. The picture Calum painted for you was so precious, yet so scary.

“Talk to me, my love, what is it you’re so afraid of?” he asked, his voice soft and broken. “You don’t… you don’t want this baby?”

You opened your eyes, scared more than ever. “Of course i want this baby, Cal!” you hurried to reassure him. “I married your damn alpha ass twice! I want all of your babies.”

“Then what is it?” he asked again, deciding to miss the remark of his stupid alpha ass. For now.

“What if i won’t be a good mother?” you said it out loud and tears started again, as you formed your fear into words.

“Of course you’ll be a good mother! Why on earth would you think differently?”

“I don’t remember my mom,” you shook your head again, looking away from him. “And you know my father wouldn’t win the dad of the year award for sure. I know nothing about parenting, got only bad examples in my life,” you sniffed. “How can you be so sure i won’t be a terrible mom for your child?”

He caressed your cheek carefully and turned your face to him. “Because i know you,” he simply stated. “You’re the smartest, bravest and kindest woman I know. You’ll always there for those you love and you’ll do anything to protect your family. You’re also the most stubborn omega i’ve ever met and a total pain in my ass most of the time, but it’s just for the best, i think,” he added, making you laugh through your tears. “This kid is happy to have a mom who takes no shit from anyone, including their dad. But what is more, I know you’ll love our kid just as much as you love me. And that would be enough to become the best mom.”

You wanted to say something. To tell him how much you loved his damn alpha ass and how much you wanted to have this baby with him. But all you could do was just crying your heart out into his chest while he was holding you close, whispering all the best things and kissing every part of you he had access to. You wanted at least say to him these were finally happy tears, but you kept silent. You were sure he knew. You were sure he felt.

Come talk to me about alpha!Cal or anything in the world really!

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Rise and Falls [3] PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/OC REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: Ida O’Donnell, no more than a petty thief, realizes that her life really comes in a series of firsts, and some unfortunate seconds and thirds. WARNINGS: None. NOTE: Here’s the third part of this! ALSO: since this is a series, I do have it posted on A03 for people who want to read the next chapters I post or missed a couple, feel free to ask for the link!

Molly O’shea was a woman that Ida really wasn’t sure how to approach.

She had seen her around camp, mostly lingering almost outside it. Ida could understand, considering she found herself (trying to) do the same at points, but her need came from uncertainty on if she was staying. Considering Molly’s relationship with Dutch, she had assumed she had found a place with them. Plus, Ida had been giving her a wide berth, nothing from her own making but rather that she reminded her of someone she would rather forget. Though, Karen’s bitter comments and Tilly and Mary-Beth’s somewhat distant regards to her, Ida had started to get the idea that Molly might be on her own not by her own choosing.

Or perhaps she was. It was hard to piece together, considering she couldn’t bring herself to ask and battled with herself over why she needed to know these things if she hadn’t any real plans on staying.

Did she?  

It was a question that lingered in the back of her mind and liked to push itself forward when she would find herself regarding the people and camp around herself. Admittedly, she was getting a little paranoid, too. She didn’t doubt that the camp was safe, what with the armed guards that she often saw being shifted out every night and the type of people who inhabited it. However, they were still fairly close to town. It wasn’t close enough to cause concern, and she doubted Dutch would have been so happy to include her if it was too close. Still, it always left Ida with the question of ‘what next?’ and she really didn’t have much of an answer.

Moving with them kept her somewhat safe and offered at least some friendly faces, something she hadn’t had in a long while, but that meant joining and she wasn’t sure what that would bring about. Still, if she stayed behind when they moved, she could just be an easy target for the local law to pick up. Put her right back where she started.

It was something she would need to have an answer for as the days dragged on, and it lead her trying to take on the Molly situation herself after all.

A couple days had passed since Karen had mentioned it, Ida turning the situation over in her head and was leaning this way and that over if she should even bother trying to address it in the long run.

Though, it seemed she had found her answer as she approached the red haired woman as she sat on a rock a ways off from Dutch’s tent, fanning herself lightly in the afternoon’s heat. Even in the shade of the trees, Ida had found it very hot at points and it was one such afternoon. (Which might make this choice all the worse, but she figured she would be waiting for the right time forever at that point.)

“Miss O’shea?” she asked once she had approached, tilting her head, “Can we talk a moment?”

Molly had turned to glance toward her, looking somewhat surprised and then suspicious all the more. Really, Ida had to wonder if Karen was really just making assumptions, there had been no glares across camp or anything to really hint that she was feeling the way Ida was assuming she was. Then again, she could just be carrying it very well.

“Sure, Miss O’Donnell. What for?” She knows my name?

Ida moved to cross her arms over her chest, letting out a sigh as she tilted her head back to bump against the bark of the tree behind her.

“I suppose there’s no easy way to ask this, so I just will,” she started, glancing back down toward her, a touch sheepish, “I...I was talking with some of the other women in camp, and, well...I just wanted to ask if you’re worried about the relationship I have with Dutch?”

“ Should I be?” Molly returned, narrowing her gaze--more confused than angry. Ida immediately shook her head, natural response. She knew where she stood with him, at least on her side, and it was still at the point where she didn’t really know him.

“Karen had brought it up, and I felt that I should...I feel like I’m making a fool of myself, but I just felt like I should assure you that I don’t feel anything for Dutch outside of something close to respect and companionship, I would say.”

Molly let out a huff, barely there, as if she was holding back a sigh behind the attempt. She glanced away from her toward the trees she had been staring at before, shaking her head.

“‘Course it was Karen, she’s made her opinion of me quite clear,” Molly muttered, placing her fan down in her lap as she glanced back toward her, “I don’t have much opinion on you, Miss O’Donnell, but I wasn’t worried about you taking Dutch from me. I love him and he loves me.”

“I know,” Ida replied with a small nod. She could see it clear as day that she loved Dutch, and Dutch...well, she shouldn’t really look too deeply into the affairs of others. Was never her place, and she had seen enough of the results of that first hand once before and vowed never to do it again. “I thought it was silly, but I suppose asking is better than sitting with some incorrect assumption.”

“Well…” Molly started, sounding like she was trying to pick her words. Perhaps she felt just as awkward about the situation as Ida did. “I appreciate you askin’ me instead of just lettin’ that form your opinion of me.”

Ida nodded softly, “I...I know you probably don’t get along with the other women, at least from the assumption I’ve gathered so far, but...I don’t have a side. If you need to ask me anything, you can.”

Molly narrowed her eyes slightly, Ida’s expression dropping into a frown at the shift as she wondered if that had somehow been the wrong thing to say.

“I don’t need your pity , Miss O’Donnell,” she stated, Ida raising her eyebrows in mild surprise.

Was it pity? She didn’t think so, but...well, perhaps it sounded fairly close to it.

“It’s not,” she returned, shaking her head, “I was just offering it to be something other than us being strangers in the same camp. I’m not coming from a place of pity, I’m just...trying to make sure things aren’t sitting in a bad spot.”

She’d done that her whole life, it felt like.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Molly returned, still a little tense but the bite had eased off a bit. Ida exhaled softly out of her nose, pushing off the tree slightly to give her a small nod.

“Then I won’t,” she returned, “I’m sorry to bring this all to you.”

It was pointless, she just wanted to get out of there. Molly had offered a small nod, Ida taking the gesture as a good time to leave. She sighed out a small breath as she wandered back toward camp, the image of a dark haired woman appearing in her mind. For a few moments, she was in the back street somewhere, the sting of a hard slap still lingering on the skin of her cheek.

In the moment, however, she found herself making a beeline toward her still unnamed horse.

Ida wasn’t sure what was worse, the feeling of that lawman’s boot planting itself into the small of her back or the feeling of hard ground winding her for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon, scrambling back to make sure she was out of the way of angry hooves coming to stamp back down onto the ground. That once peaceful horse that liked to linger around camp felt like a stranger, sometimes, considering how he seemed to flip from fine to complete bastard at the tap of a heel.

He didn’t run in those moments, though, it was strange.

“You okay?” Oh, an audience. An amused one from the sounds of it. That had just made this worse than the lawman’s boot.

Ida couldn’t say it wasn’t unexpected, he’d caught her a couple times trying to get used to riding this new horse, Arthur dropping in and out of camp but she didn’t find his company too terrible when she chose to gave it.

She had wondered why a couple times, but considering she had gotten a faceful of dirt and grass stains on her clothes, she was starting to understand the answer to that.

“Sure…” she muttered around a small huff, not really bothering to gather herself to a stand as she rested an arm against her knee, “I don’t think I’ve met someone, man or horse, more ornery than my friend here.”

Some days he had no issues, some days it felt like she was doing everything wrong. A sigh ripped from her as she heard Arthur approach a little closer to where she was sitting, her eyes on the way her horse seemed to calm, huffing out a breath himself, ears twitching as he seemed to regard the both of them.

“He’s still got some wild in ‘im, that’s for sure,” Arthur returned, Ida feeling something solid tap her shoulder. She glanced over to see his hand, palm up. She regarded it a moment, glancing up toward his face. He seemed relaxed, the gesture genuine even with the hind of amusement in his expression. She let out a small chuckle, taking the offering as she allowed him to help her to her feet again.

“Tyrant,” she muttered, swiping off some dirt from the shirt she wore.

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna call him Tyrant,” Ida stated a little clearer, letting out a small chuckle, “I was...trying to come up with something cryptic or...meaningful, but look at him.”

“He ain’t gonna outgrow it?”

“No, it’s exactly what he is. Tyrant.”

“Fitting!”

The new voice made her jump slightly, Ida glancing behind herself to see an older man walking out toward them, not too far off. Hosea, if she remembered correctly. Again, another face she had yet to really bond with too much. Between Grimshaw’s chores and the newly named Tyrant, she didn’t have much time to really put herself out there. Still, she found herself smiling lightly, nodding.

“I’m glad someone agrees,” she said, taking a glance back toward her horse.

“Never said I disagreed ,” Arthur muttered, still close enough for her to pick up on as the remark pulled a small huff from her before she was glancing back toward Hosea who had approached the both of them more fully.

“Is this where you’ve been disappearin’ to in the evenings?” Hosea asked, Ida raising her eyebrows slight before she shrugged, making a vague gesture toward the horse.

“When he allows,” she replied, letting her hand fall back to her side. Really, she wasn’t sure if anybody had noticed it outside of Arthur when he’d catch on the odd couple times.

Though, his tone didn’t sound like she was doing anything they disapproved of. If anything, she took on the whole thing in hopes of getting one thing off their plate when it came to her. That or she didn’t want to give another thing she owed Dutch over. She wasn’t sure why, but she also knew that she didn’t like the idea of being in debt to anybody she didn’t fully trust. Still, those thoughts remained rather quiet in her mind and didn’t really find their way out of her mouth most days.

“Well, I hate to drag you away from that, but Dutch and I wanted to have a word with you, Miss O’Donnell,” Hosea replied, taking a glance toward Arthur but it appeared he wouldn’t have any fuss over that.

Why would he?

“Sure,” she said with a nod, “Let me hitch my horse again and I’ll come see you both.”

Aside from a small huff, Tyrant seemed to have flipped again, letting her take his reins with ease. He was a handful, but she couldn’t say there wasn’t a touch of fondness for him, even if he left her sides and back aching in the night sometimes.

“I reckon once he trusts you more, he’ll be fine,” Arthur commented, causing Ida to glance behind her from where she was leading him back toward the camp.

She could feel a comment lingering on her tongue, a question on if he meant Dutch or the horse, but instead she just found herself giving him a soft nod and continued on to where they kept the horses.

Really, she couldn’t help but feel like she was back in the same seat she was all those weeks ago, sitting in Dutch’s tent with a great level of uncertainty on what she had gotten herself into. Perhaps that was a touch dramatic, and that uncertainty had lessened some, but she wasn’t sure what he was about to ask of her. Plus, she didn’t really know where Hosea stood with everything, much as he had been decent with her during the odd interaction. However, Dutch really seemed to trust him, the two of them obviously close from what she had been able to witness.

However, she wasn’t quite expecting something close to a ultimatum once she had sat herself down in Dutch’s tent.

“We’re thinkin’ it’s best that we move soon,” Dutch explained, glancing toward Hosea, “Law seems to be gettin’ antsy and with the new arrivals, yourself included, it leaves us a little...nervous.”

Ida had seen some new faces, but it was hard to tell who was new and who wasn’t from what she had been able to gather. Still, hearing that...

“There’s a town not too far from here on the way to where we’re thinkin’ of goin’,” Hosea continued, “We could send you that way, if that’s what you want, or you can pack up and move with us.”

“I…” Ida started, letting out a short sigh through her nose as she trailed off, “I’ve never ran with a group this big and anybody who wasn’t family.”

“We are a family,” Dutch returned, “and you haven’t been causin’ anybody grief durin’ your stay. Hell, I think Grimshaw would be sad to see you go, what with what you’ve been doin’ for her.”

“I...all respect to Miss Grimshaw, but I can’t be a chore girl,” Ida stated, “I’ve been keeping myself sane with this horse when I can, I need somethin’ more than camp.”

“New place, new opportunities,” Hosea chipped in, Ida glancing over toward him as she pressed her lips into a thin line. Chance to prove herself beyond that, too. Should she want. It wasn’t outright stated, but she couldn’t help but feel that she would have to prove she could be trusted with something outside of cleaning clothes and carrying buckets. Not that she expected that to stop.  

“I suppose…” she started, glancing back toward Dutch, “with some distance from the town I was set to hang in, perhaps I could be more at home here.”

She’d lived with thieves, conmen, and murderers all her life. Her father and brothers were certainly among them, and Ida...well, she wasn’t excused from that, too. She didn’t enjoy thinking about it, and her father had always spoke ill of gangs and spoke highly of the idea that they would only need each other. That was, until her eldest brother had his a hole put in his head for trying to bite off more than he could chew with another local crew and led a nice bread crumb trail right back home for criminals and bounty hunters alike. Her younger brother had been hung, her father shot in the back and hauled onto a horse.

She would have joined them in the long run, had it not been for Dutch. Perhaps she owed him that much.

“I’ll move with you.”

Let’s see how much of a mistake this’ll be. Really, she couldn’t help but note how the voice in her head was oddly bleeding into what her father’s had sounded like.

[superwolfiestar]

Partners in Time Ch.15

With Young Zeus, he had just skidded to a halt when he faced a dead end at his front.

"Grrrr! Unbelievable! A stupid dead end!" Panchito shouted in frustration.

"End of the line, Zeus!" Panchito's voice came from behind him. He turned around to see the heroes glaring at him.

"You again! You just don't give up, do you?!" Baby Young Zeus hissed, but then smirked at the last sentence as he pulls out the Cobalt Shards. "Eat my cookies, will you? Fine! I'll eat the treasure instead!"

To their shock, Young Zeus ate two Cobalt Shards right in front of their eyes!

"WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!" Panchito shouted in shock.

"Urr…" Young Zeus grumbled as he held his belly, until he cracked an evil smile. "Wow! Yum! Those shards were DEE-licious!"

"You… You're gonna pay SO HARD for THAT!" Panchito yelled.

"Yeah! Let's hold me!" Young Panchito said.

Both adults Super Caballeros walked towards Young Zeus and held him by his sides.

"Hey! What're you… LEGGO!" Young Zeus demanded while struggling from the adults heroes’ grasp.

"TAKE THIS!" Young Jose jumped on Young Zeus a couple of times with all his strength to try to force the shards out of him. "Come on! Spit them out NOW!"

"OOF! YURK! BLURB!" Young Zeus groaned from Young Jose's stomps.

"Wait… Do you guys hear that?" Panchito heard a familiar noise.

They stopped what they were doing and looked behind them, seeing some Shroob Saucers flying by. Two of those Saucers came back and looked at the group before leaving.

"…What are these Saucers doing here?" Jose questioned.

Just then, another type of noise was heard.

"And what was that other noise?" Panchito added.

They get a full view of the mountain, they can see that Moob was trying to climb up, but accidentally slid down, causing that other noise heard by the heroes. Three Shroob Saucers came back and one of them shot a laser at Moob, causing him to grow in size, and was now staring at the group!

"Is…that who I think it is…?" Young Panchito gulped.

"Uh oh…" Young Jose murmured.

"%$&#####!" Moob roared loudly, flinching the group, including Young Zeus.

"RUN FOR IT!" Panchito shouted in panic as everyone dashed off.

However, their progress was stopped when they were startled by Moob's tongue, trying to eat them. Luckily, the tongue barely missed them.

"That was one heck of a close call!" Panchito's eyes widened.

"%$&#####!" Moob roared again and latched his tongue to try to eat the young heroes.

"LOOK OUT!" Jose got in front of the youngsters, but unfortunately ended up getting caught by the tongue. "AAAAHH!" he and Baby Manny was eaten.

"JOSE!" the two heroes cried out, while the adult Panchito gasped in shock.

Soon, Young Zeus arrived…at the worst time, because he was the next victim to get caught by the tongue. "OH NO!" he gets eaten.

"This is not good!" Panchito panicked, only to be grabbed by Moob’s tongue next. "GAAAH!" he screamed as he was eaten, followed by Young Panchito, and Young Jose.

"%$&#####!" Moob roared once again.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Young Panchito, Young Jose and Baby Manny wailed out loud, which woke Jose up.

"Uhhh…" he groaned as he got up. He then noticed the three crying children. "Oh, great… What do I do?!" he had no idea how he would calm down three children at once. "GUYS! A little help here! Guys!" he tried calling for Panchito, who was lying on the ground unconscious, but he wouldn't wake up. The wailing then becomes louder. "Ohhh, come on!" Jose facepalmed. "Okey… Guess it's worth a shot…"

He tried to call the childrens' attention by calling them playfully and even doing a funny face in front of Young Panchito, but they didn't stop crying.

"PLEASE, Panchito! I need help! Wake UP!" Jose called out for his downed lover, but they still wouldn't wake up. "Urrrrgh!" he grunted stressfully; how is he going to calm down the children without his help? Soon, he got an idea: "Oh! I know! This will definitely calm them down!" he reaches through something in his pocket. "I just hope there's still enough space left in their stomachs."

He pull out Three Manny Cookies from his pocket. Once the children eyed at them, they immediately stopped crying and big smiles showed up on their faces.

"Yay! Cookies!" Young Panchito and Young Jose squealed.

"Yaaaaaaaaay!" Baby Manny cheered.

"Here you go!" Jose handed each baby a cookie and watched them munching on these tasty snacks.

"Cookies are soooo tasty!" Young Panchito exclaimed with cookie crumbles in his mouth.

Baby Manny chirped as he swallows the whole cookie with his tongue.

"Phew…" Jose let out a sigh of relief.

"Ugh…" he then heard Panchito groan. He was now awake.

"Oh, thank seven stars you're awake!" Jose said. "Even though I've already calmed the boys down by myself…" he thought.

"Uh… Where are we?" Young Jose asked.

"I surmise we're inside that beast's gastric chambers…" Stuffwell said after coming out of Panchito's pocket.

"Yuck..." Panchito cringed.

"You've gotta be kidding me…" Young Panchito sweatdropped.

"Well that's a first, getting eaten by a monstrous Manny." Jose said.

"Yeah, but what's next? Getting eaten by King Zeus?" Panchito questioned.

"Oh, sweet no! *sigh* goodness, Panchito… Don't give any funny ideas when we get back home." Jose glared at him.

"Young Zeus and his bellyful of star shards should be in here somewhere, as well." Stuffwell stated. "I suggest we find him and get out of here with all speed." He flies back into Panchitos pocket.

Panchoto then saw a very tiny opening on the other side of the wall.

"Hmm…" he pondered. "Guys, I can see through this wall. But we can't go through it."

"I wonder if the kids can." Jose wondered.

Hearing that, Young Jose walked towards the tiny gap and tried to fit through it, but he couldn't.

"Nope. Too small." He shook his head.

"Then how about we take that spring over there?" Young Panchito pointed to a spring at the far right. "It's small enough for us. Maybe we can find something up there."

"You have a point. Let's hop on it." Young Jose said.

"We'll wait for you here." Jose assured.

With that, the youngsters jumped on the spring and it launched them upwards.

"Eh?" Young Panchito did.

They saw the Gray Manny trying to push a large boulder towards the hole. The young kids were confused at that.

"Push! Push!" the Manny struggled.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?" Young Jose asked.

"Trying to push this boulder." The Gray Manny answered. "If I can get this rolling, it should make a way outta here. Can't seem to budge it on my own, though…" he then attempts again.

"Hm… It DOES seem likely that rolling that giant boulder down the hole we just came from will expand that tight passage…" Young Jose pointed out.

"So we have to find a way to move this boulder somehow!" Young Panchito told them.

Baby Manny began tapping his hoofs together.

"Hold on, I think Manny is trying to say something…" Young Panchito pondered. "I've been listening to Manny Language since I was a newborn, so maybe I can understand him."

He analyzed Baby Manny's movements one by one. After he was done, Young Panchito came up with a conclusion:

"I think he was trying to say that there may be other Manny's wandering around in here. Perhaps if we find all of them, that boulder could move!"

"Hey! That's it! All of the Mannys were swallowed by that monster Yoshi too!" Young Jose confirmed. "But all of them got separated? That makes me worried for them!"

"Alright, but first of all, we gotta call our older selves to us!" Young Panchito stated as he hits a Warp Block, making a Warp Pipe appear and the adult Super Caballeros came out of it.

"You actually found a way to send us to you?" Panchito was surprised. "Tell us, what did you see?"

The young heroes explained everything to the adults.

"So we have to go on a Manny hunt, huh? I can see different rooms in this chamber, by the way. I suppose they'll lead us to where the Mannys are." Panchito said, directing to the rooms.

"I suggest we split up so that we can get the job done quickly." Jose suggested. "We can go with each of our younger selves while Baby Manny come with us."

They all nodded and split up to each room.

At the west side of Moob's Belly…

Panchito and his younger self entered the room, were they found an RC Aliener threatening a red Manny with a radio-controlled moving bomb.

"%)$" the RC Aliener sung.

"Help!" the Gray Red Manny cried for help.

"This Alien deserves a lesson!" Panchito glared at the RC Aliener.

"You bet!" Young Panchito glared next before calling out to get the RC Aliener's attention: "Hey! You there!"

The RC Aliener heard him and turned around to spot the two Panchitos. He then sent the moving bomb towards them. The bomb stood in front of the Pancchitos for quite a while, and surprisingly enough it didn't explode yet.

"Okay, this is getting boring…" Panchito rolled his eyes before destroying the bomb with his jump.

"Seriously? That's all you got?" Young Panchito teased.

"#&!" the RC Aliener's eyes twitched as he ran straight for them.

"Guess we'll settle this with a fray!" Panchito grinned as he and his younger self stood in their fighting stances.

The RC Aliener uses his antenna to command a flying bomb at the Sonics, but they dodged it and the bomb blew up by itself. After that, Young Panchito did a hammer while Panchito did a double jump Attack at the RC Aliener.

The RC Aliener tried to use that same bomb again. Panchito dodged it while Young Panchito does a Hammer attack at it to send it to the RC Aliener, killing him.

"We did, me!" Young Panchito high-fived his young self.

"You're welcome! One day, You'll be able to master the power move once you grow up!" Panchito replied.

"I will? Cool!"

The Gray Red Manny got up, thankful for the rooster killing the Alien. "Thanks!" he thanked. The Rooster then told him about the dilemma at the main chamber. "Huh? Escape?" he then ran off, lending a hand to the Manny with pushing the boulder. Even that, two Mannys still weren't enough.

At the northwest side of Moob's Belly…

Jose and his younger self came upon a large bright red wall in the room. What was surprising for them is that they heard a Manny's voice from behind the wall:

"Isn't there anybody who can help me?"

"Did you hear that? There's a Manny trapped on the other side!" Jose said. His younger self nodded. "The good question is: how do we get him out?"

"Wow! Lookie! Colorful balls!" Young Jose eyed at a row of colorful balls above the cell's door. The order of the balls' colors were blue, yellow, blue, red, yellow, blue, yellow, red, red, yellow, blue, yellow, red, blue, yellow and blue.

"It kinda looks like some sort of code…" Jose inspected the balls. He then noticed a small opening on the far right side of the wall where only his baby self could pass. "Hey! Me! Could you try to memorize the order of the colors shown here and then go down that opening?"

"Sure!" Young Jose nodded. It took a couple of seconds for him to memorize all of the colors, but once he was finished, he went inside the opening.

On the other side, there were tons of colorful buttons that light in the same three colors as the balls seen outside.

"Oh, that explains it." Young Jose pointed out. "Alright, here goes nothing!" he took out his hammer.

Some button hitting later…

"*bang!* …yellow… *bang!* …red… *bang!* …blue… *bang!* …yellow…and… *bang!* …BLUE!"

At the same time, when Young Jose completed the row of buttons, the door leading to the imprisoned Manny opened. The toddler then emerged out from the opening.

"Good job!" Jose congratulated.

"No problem!" Young Jose replied with a smile.

The Joses went through the opened door and greeted the Manny, which was a blue one.

"That…was scary." The Gray Blue Manny stuttered. Once the Joses told him about the situation at the chamber, the Gray Blue Manny went out to help with the pushing as well.

[theonyxpath]

Since next week we’ll be going into full New Kickstarter mode for the Pirates of Pugmire KS, let me catch up on a few things we talked about in the Monday Meeting today, and expand on our thinking about attending conventions.

First, thanks to everyone who sent in questions for my interview with the Onyx Pathcast! We had a great recording session last week that, no surprise, ran extra long. So many things to cover, and I wanted to go into enough detail to deliver more than a corporate sound-bite.

Next, yes, I’m still all fuzzy-headed from pollen allergies. Thanks to all who asked, or provided solutions – medical or otherwise!

And, as far as I’ve been informed, all the backer rewards for the Scion Kickstarter should now be out in the trucks/planes/tricycles of the shippers our fulfillment shipper works with. USPS and Fedex mostly, but these days it is hard to pin that down as they all seem to subcontract with each other.

V5 Chicago art by Amy Wilkins

In a little over two weeks, Eddy, Mighty Matt McElroy, and myself, will be flying over to Merrie Olde Englande for UK Games Expo! This is going to be extremely cool for me, as my family pretty much all came from that part of the world, and I’ve never visited before.

Plus, we’ll be hanging out with Matthew Dawkins, and meeting Steffie de Vann, John Burke, Chris Allen, and Klara Herbol face-to-face for the first time! We are good at using other methods of talking together like Skype, and generally love the virtual office thing, but hanging out and getting to know our creators is still the best way to really understand each other.

But our kumbaya moments aren’t all we’ll be doing at the con! The gang are running all sorts of demo games, including a Chronicles of Darkness tournament where they’ll be running games for the CofD game lines and one player will advance to a special session of the Contagion Chronicle run by developer Matthew Dawkins!

This is a kind of connected con game we’ve never actually done officially before, and we’re really looking forward to how things play out! Plus, the are a lot of other demo games going on including Fetch Quest and Prince’s Gambit, for those who need a card game break from their roleplaying sessions.

I’ll be in meetings and podcasts and other interviews, but hope to get a chance to sit near, if not in, and enjoy the fun. So if you’re going, and want to chat, you can stop by the Onyx Path booth and find out where we all are if you can’t find us there.

One thing you won’t find there will be us selling games and books at the booth. We’re stepping away from making the booth a sales venue at UKGE, and we’ll be directing folks who want to buy our stuff to our friends at Leisure Games! In fact, here’s a handy map now of the exhibition floor:

Now, UK Games Expo is not the only convention we are trying out this new booth strategy with. In fact, we are going all in at Gen Con 2019, this year, and we’re not having any booth at all there.

Instead, we have pretty much doubled the number of demo games that will be run there, we’re still having our Onyx Path panels, and you’ll still be able to buy our games and books and stuff at the Studio2 and Indie Press Revolution booths.

Unsurprisingly, we have a map for that too!

But Rich, why? Why not carry on the tradition of the Gen Con booth? You guys have made a big deal out of your Gen Con planning every year since Onyx Path started (even a few years before that, actually).

The answer is in the question really. It has been a big deal. A huge deal.

One that sucked up our time, effort, planning, attention, and cash. Gen Con exerted a disproportionate gravity every year for the effect it had on our company and community. As a chance to see the same folks year after year, the booth was a great focal point – one we are going to try and move to the panels and demo tables.

I never saw the booth as a “sales venue” nor wanted us to drive it in that direction. That’s just not how I’ve thought of our presence there; it was always more of a communications opportunity. But what we’ve seen these past few years is that the need for the booth to be our big chance to talk to folks has really been left in the dust by our online presence.

For example, all last year at Gen Con, I heard from both new and long time members of our community how they love the Onyx Pathcast, or chatting with Dixie on Slack, or Matt and Ian on our Facebook pages.

And this hasn’t just affected the booth. For example, we used to get a huge reaction when we released the new Onyx Path Brochure at Gen Con – now folks have told us that they already know most of what’s in there because of our social media and these very Monday Meeting Notes blogs, so we’ll be debuting a new kind of brochure at the Mid-Winter Convention this year.

Shunned By The Moon art by Jeff (Silver Fox) Holt

Once we looked at all that; really went into the different ways that folks are getting info and a chance to connect with the company, we could see that the booth was a massive drain on our time in terms of running it, and a pretty big drain on cash that we could use in more proactive ways, and that there were better ways we could use to communicate.

Put that all together, and we’re going to try doing things sans booth this year and see what happens. Maybe it is a horrible idea. We’ll see. But if we just “do what we’ve always done” without examining those strategies to see if they are effective, we’re headed for the tar pits.

And nobody wants that. We want to evolve so that we can continue to deliver you:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

Our Pirates of Pugmire Kickstarter will be starting at 2pm Eastern US time on Tuesday, May 21st!

ONYX PATH MEDIA

Illustration by Charles Bates

On this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast is a special Pirates of Pugmire Design Diary pretty much totally by Eddy Webb, who has been recording sessions all through his process of developing PoP: https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

And Here’s More Media About Our Worlds:

No Onyx Path News from last week as Matthew was away, so expect a special edition this week to make up for the gap! As for actual plays, it seems to be a Scarred Lands-focused week! Please let the Gentleman Gamer on the Onyx Path Forum know if you have an actual play or review you’d like us to profile, new or old!

Onyx Path‘s YouTube channel has however gained an additional two parts of the Scarred Lands actual play Matthew is running for Red Moon Roleplaying. Check it out if heists, dragons, asaathi, and slitherin are your thing! https://youtu.be/cjbkpGHZhVM

The Story Told RPG Podcast have reached episode five of their Dragon-Blooded actual play, so if you’re interested in Exalted, please give it a listen: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/fall-of-jiara-episode-5-a-dinner-to-remember

The latest episodes of Occultists Anonymous, the Mage: The Awakening actual play (with crossover elements are synopsised as follows: Episode 11: Across the Abyss. Half the cabal, twice the fun. They attempt to summon a Supernal being… Without any research! https://youtu.be/3y3ws45deyw AND Episode 12: Magical Girls’ Night. The conclusion of the summoning, and new plans are laid to develop tools to spellcasting. https://youtu.be/VgaxzDivbMc Give them a watch!

Back to Scarred Lands now, and Caffeinated Conquests‘ actual play of the Gauntlet of Spiragos continues (and they completely off-track from the published scenario): https://youtu.be/haNoWVTBjLc

Returning here to Scarn with Travis Legge’s Myths & Matchmakers, which has reached its 20th episode! If you enjoy your actual plays, please do check this channel out. Also, Travis really knows his Scarred Lands: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYIfQKyR5Vs

Devil’s Luck Gaming are always worth checking out for their fantastic Scarred Lands and Chronicles of Darkness actual plays, streamed live: https://www.twitch.tv/DevilsLuckGaming

The Keeper of the Archive (a new show on YouTube) has recently made lengthy strides into covering the Traditions of Mage: The Ascension (https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLAmGl_jV_qwLk33I706Dfxg3RTqPd6YGz) and Tribes of Werewolf: The Apocalypse (https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLAmGl_jV_qwKLTkw8JkX02zkOMzbtrS8k). It’s a new channel and they’d greatly appreciate your support

One of our frequent Mage freelancers, Rachelle Udell, was recently interviewed by Mage: The Podcast on the subject of the Mage Cookbook and other subjects! It’s well worth a listen, and an excellent channel in general: https://anchor.fm/mage-the-podcast/episodes/The-Mage-Cookbook-and-the-Ahl-i-Batini-with-Rachelle-Udell-e3tr3g

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here’s an update from the App devs:

We’ve been having trouble fixing the android bug that messes up the resolution for newer phones. I think we have a fix for that.  It was also brought up that the store display is wrong on most tablet devices, so that is getting fixed too. That should all be soon!

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio 2: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can now order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we’re putting up a ton of stickers on our RedBubble store! Symbols and logos and art and all sorts of stuff- but as stickers!

CONVENTIONS

UK Games Expo: May 31st – June 2nd From the US comes Eddy Webb, Matt McElroy, and Rich Thomas to join with Matthew Dawkins, Steffie de Vann, John Burke, Chris Allen, and Klara Herbol! Gen Con: August 1st – August 4th Save Against Fear: Oct 12-14 GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd We’ll also be back at PAX Unplugged later this year.

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Geist2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Redlines

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Heroic Land Dwellers (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

DR:E Threat Guide (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

DR:E Jumpstart (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Development

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Memento Mori: the GtSE 2e Companion (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Let The Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Manuscript Approval:

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Blood Sea: Crimson Abyss for 5e (Scarred Lands)

Editing:

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Distant Worlds (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Scion Ready Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Post-Editing Development:

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)

V5 Chicago By Night Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

Indexing:

Trinity Aeon

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Ex3 Monthly Stuff  

Chicago By Night

They Came From Beneath the Sea!

EX3 Lunars

Hunter: The Vigil 2

Contagion Chronicle

VtR Spilled Blood – Contracted.

M20 Book of the Fallen – Contracted.

Dark Eras 2 – First set of sketches in.

CoM – Witch Queen of the Shadowed Citadel – Sending back feedback on sketches.

Pirates of Pugmire – KS art contracted, sketches and finals coming in.

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant – KS art started contracting.

Scion Ready Made Characters – Contracted.

TC Aeon: Distant Worlds – Reading through artnotes.

Marketing Stuff

In Layout

Dystopia Rising: Evolution – With Josh.

Shunned By the Moon

Trinity Continuum Core – Index is in.

Proofing

The Realm – At WW for approval.

Book of Oblivion – At WW for approval.

Signs of Sorcery – Dev comments back to layout.

Aeon Aexpansion – In 2nd Proof.

C20 Cup of Dreams Novel

Scion Jumpstart

At Press

Scion Hero – Shipped to backers, PoD proof ordered.

Scion Origin – Shipped to backers, PoD proof ordered.

Scion Dice – Shipped to backers.

Scion Screen – Shipped to backers.

Fetch Quest – Waiting for PoD proofs.

In Media Res – PDF out to backers, gathering errata with new sheet.

Geist 2e – PDF out to backers, gathering errata with new sheet.

Adventures for Curious Cats – PoD proof ordered.

Tales of Excellent Cats – PoD proof ordered.

Dragon-Blooded – Deluxe at printer. Signed off of Press Proofs.

Dragon-Blooded Screen – At printer.

Trinity Core and Aeon Screens – Files at printer.

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: 

Today in 1964 a great nerd was born: Stephen Colbert. The man argues Silmarillion lore facts and kept a replica of Captain America’s shield on set. He drops references to his D&D game characters. Why are we in a golden era of “nerd culture”? Well, his overt love of our stuff has certainly helped!

[monstersandmaw]

Crab Monster

Gorgeous post submitted by @monster-love-storiess! Thank you for this - I hope you folks enjoy it too! Unchanged by me, except for adding a ‘keep reading’...

_____________________________________

Hey I was the anon that asked about the crab monster and I then decided to write him a little blurb! Hope you enjoy!

Never in my entire life did I think I would ever run for my life from anything. Never did I think I would feel that intense, horrifying survival instinct kick in and send my adrenaline kicking and screaming into gear. I had seen run for their lives in TV shows and in movies and maybe during a rigorous game of dodge ball in middle school, but never like this. This was the worst feeling anyone could feel. The crippling fear, the hot fire anxiety and the scorching ache in my muscles as I pushed them farther than they have ever been pushed before.

My hushed frantic panting echoed off the damp sea cave walls as I zig zag my way around dried coral and larger than usual shells. My bare feet were badly scraped, and my beach dresses was tattered and salty. But at the moment, I could barely focus on that. I could barley focus on anything aside from putting as much distance between that monster and myself.

The events leading up to me running for my life were a little unusual and my mind reeled at the turn of events that had thrown me to where I am now. Me graduating with flying colors from Marine Biology and then receiving a grant to work on a boat alongside other gradated biologists. It started off great, a little sunburned but great as we travelled around the Caribbean. Part of it was working and taking and examining water samples and finding wildlife, but it was also a vacation of sorts as well.

 We had a captain and a first mate who were not biologist but were just in charge the boat. They were tanned and gruff, both with dark gray birds and yellow teeth.  I had never given them much thought except when I introduced myself when I got on the boat, to which they brushed me off and continue untying ropes from the dock before we set sail.

Come to think of it, the only time I had really heard them speak was when they were screaming curse words into the wind as that huge tidal wave overtook the ship.

I had shut my eyes at that moment, the water spraying everywhere and there was too much salt in my eyes to even see the wave coming, but I braced myself against the closest sturdy thing I could find, which was unfortunately the side railing. Needless to say, my grip was forced off and I was swept up into a seemingly never ending current of dense black water.

When I felt my body finally stop moving, I slowly began the process of opening my eyes. Almost admittedly, I shut them again as blazing sunlight made my vision go white. I wiggled my fingers, toes, arms and legs and found that nothing was broken, but just very soar. My lung burned and my head pounded.

I sat up, now realizing that I had been pressed into the sand of a beach, the tide that had probably dropped me off now receding past my feet and farther back. Looking around I found that I was on some kind of island with a few trees and the biggest rock formations I had ever seen. They rose up higher than any building and I could already see the network of a few caves. I glanced over my shoulder to see if I could see any  signs of life.

There were none. My heart grew heavy and blood ran cold.

I think at that point I had started crying and I curled up into a ball right there on the beach, the water still lapping at my toes and my dress dripping with salt.

It was then The blaring sun was suddenly blocked out but a  large figure looming over me.

I never actually got a good look at it, I only slowly glanced up in time to see those dangerously large crab-like pinchers and the immense size of the creature itself. The pinchers opened slowly as I stared and I realized with dread that the length of the entire pinch was longer than I was.

That leads me to now with my running for my life into one of the various caves on the island.

I don’t know how long I had been running for but I knew it hadn’t been for long enough when I tripped on an exposed barnacle and I was sent face first into the sandy floor. I tried scrambling up to make up for tripping, my fingers digging into the sand around me, trying to find my foot once more.

“Wait! Please…”

I froze, my eyes going wide at the voice.

“I won’t hurt you, please, I want to help.”

I turned and saw the creature slowly approach, claws up in the air. I yelped and scooted back as far as I could, my back against the damp cave walls, my arms hugging my knees u close to my chest.

As I sat deathly still, I could now see the creature in all its glory.

From first glance, it looked like a crab and human hybrid. The crab part of its body was huge, almost the size of a car, not including the legs. The legs themselves were long and bent upward and strong and spiked. However, hat made my heard spin was where the two little eyes were supposed to be at the top front of the base of the body, a strong human torso was instead. However, instead of a set of regular human arms, it had a lower set of what looked like longer skinnier arms that looked like its legs with more of a bent and smaller spikes and another set of on top, these ones being the huge pinchers I had seen on the beach prior to me running for my life. One claw was a little bit bigger than they other but needless to say they both looked strong and deadly.

The crab part of his body was an off-maroon color and the human part was a dark tanned with the maroon mixed in. On closer inspection, I could only assume it was a male from the strongly featured face, heavy brow line and strapping physique. His hair was a dirty blond and it was tied into a half up into a bun with a piece of rope while the rest hung around his shoulder in tousled beachy waves.

If I wasn’t terrified out of my mind, I would have found him handsome.

It then began to dawn on me that he hadn’t tried to hurt me yet, or even come close to my huddled form. His claws, which sent my heart sputtering out of control, were still held up and it took me second it was like a human being holding there hands up to show that they meant to harm.

I slowly let got of my legs and his lips twitched upward into a friendly and hopeful smile.

“How are you doing? I was worried about you. I had been watching over you on that beach for a little while and you didn’t move.”

He had a sort of Australian accent which I found to be completely adorable, despite his monstrous appearance.

I nodded slowly, and then opened my mouth to speak and found my throat to be dangerously dry. I coughed and winced and the feeling and sound it made, and his eyes got wide before he looked around and retrieved a shell from the ground. This one was a little bit bigger than my hand. He held it up to the wall next to him and I watched as he filled it with water from the down ward trickling stream.

“This is rain water that leaks down through the rocks. It is fresh, don’t worry.” He explained before delicately holding the shell down to me, his pinchers holding it gently. I slowly stood up and my eyes got wide as I realized how much he towered over me even with me standing.

I reached out, my hand brushing against the pinchers briefly and I marveled at how hard and smooth it was. I took the shell in both hands before lifting it up to my lips and taking a large sip, relishing in the feeling of fresh water running down my throat.

“Thank you.” I breathed softly and he beamed, shifting his crab legs around in the sand in mild excitement.

“How did you get here? I have never seen human boats come even close to this island before.”

I swallowed a bit more water before answering.

“I was on a boat, but we got caught by a storm and I got swept off into sea.” I bit my lip at the memory, my eyes beginning to water again and his face fell. He approached me slowly, the smaller of his pinchers cautiously reaching for my face. I sucked in a breath as he gently slid the curve of his pincher down my face, capturing a single tear that had escaped from my eye.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re safe and I won’t let anything happen to you. I have plenty of wood here for a fire signal and I can find you food to eat. Hopefully you don’t like crab legs.” I giggled through my tears at his joke and he smiled.

“Do you have a name, love?” He asked and I told him, sniffling my tears away as I stared up into his warm dark brown eyes.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Blaise.”

It was funny to me that his presence went from horrifying to comforting in a little bit of time. Even more so as he scooped me up so I was no perched in the crook of his massive arm, my legs sandwiched between his bicep and his larger pincher as sat on his shoulder and my hands gripping his broad shoulders tightly for balance. I felt and probably looked tiny compared to him.

“Let’s not waste any more time and light that fire signal and get you sent on your merry way.” He boomed and I laughed as he turned and made his way out of the cave, his movement surprising quick and graceful, even if he did walk sideways a little. I did pick up on a saddened tone in his voice though and I found myself sad that the signaling of other boats would happen so quickly.

I mean I was technically on a vacation of sorts, so why not spend a little bit of it on a tropical island with a gentle crab monster.

___________________________________

Original crab monster post/headcanon ask is here if anyone’s curious about the ask that prompted them to write this and send it in!  

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

For the fic rec, Be Alone by Paramore with Calum (maybe best friends who realize their feelings for each other if possible?) Please!!

Thanks for the song suggestion. I tweaked this just a little bit, I tried friends to lovers, but I pulled most of my inspiration from the lyrics, like I do with most of my song blurbs. I hope you don’t mind. 

You can still send me a song + a boy until Sunday at 7PM EST. 

Enjoy my masterlist. 

Support me on Kofi. 

*No one has my permission to repost, including translations. Copyright be-ready-when-i-say-go, 2020*

____________________________________________

Tattooed Heart

“You should come out tonight,” Calum says. He’s asked everyday up until now, Friday night. Each time you respond with a shrug and ‘I’ll think about it.’ There’s nothing definite though and nothing that lets him even get an inkling of an idea that you’ve changed your mind. 

It’s not that you don’t want to go out with him and the guys and their girls. You adore the lot of them. But you just don’t feel like going out. You don’t feel like doing much of anything. Truth be told, it seemed a little silly to be this out of it over something that was inevitable. But still it hit too hard and of course, you didn’t tell anyone. 

“Please. I miss my best friend,” Calum tries when you’ve gone too long without answering. 

Fuck, that’s the last thing you needed to hear right now. Right now, you just wanted to be alone. And you wanted to sulk. You wanted to cry your eyes out because you weren’t there to comfort your childhood dog in their last few moments. It was a long time coming, first it was them not eating like they used too. But that changed for a little bit, got a little bit better and then, like you knew it would happened, though you wished it weren’t true, everything went downhill. 

You hadn’t been able to make it back home in time. One day things were up and the next everything just went to shit, fell absolutely so flat that you were sure they had fallen through the core of the earth. 

“I’m just--it’s just rough right now,” you explain without giving away too many details. “Kinda want to be alone.”

“What happened?” You shake your head even though it’s a phone call and he can’t see you. Calum knows you though. Your silence says more than you think it does. “We can be alone together. I’ll pick you up and you can hang out with me and Duke and we don’t have to do anything.”

“I thought you were going out.”

“Not when my friend needs me. You don’t even have to be dressed like a real person, okay? Just throw on some shoes and I’ll be over in ten.” The call ends and you look to your front door. You have a pair of slides that you wear mostly to take the trash out in near it. Those will do. It’ll complete the look paired with a sweatshirt and athletic shorts. 

Just as you think to grab your keys and wallet, a knock sounds from your front door. You open the door to find him in attire that basically matches yours, except for the additions of compression tights under his shorts. “Junk food?”

“Junk food.” 

It’s in the aisle that you hold a giant bucket of cheese puffs to your chest. Calum holds a basket, full of a six pack of sodas, ice cream, chips, and fruit snacks. It’s enough to make your teeth rot just looking at it and it’s the most content you’ve felt in a while. Your check out is silent too, standing next to Calum and taking the bags as the young guy finishes slipping your treats into them. 

The card reader dings and Calum removes his card sliding it back into his wallet. “I’ll take one.”

“I got ‘em,” you reply, turning for the automatic sliding doors. 

At Calum’s house, you wrap yourself into the blanket draped across the back of the couch and Duke’s more than happy to see you, tail wagging as he climbs into your lap. “Hey, bubba,” you coo. Normally, you’d be more excited, have more energy to toss treats or run lap, but right now, all you want to do is bury your nose in his fur and try to hide your tears. 

Calum settles onto the floor in front of the couch, unscrewing the cap on one of the sodas. It hisses as the pressure releases. “Wanna watch something?”

“You can pick whatever,” you offer softly. 

It’s nothing heavy. Some animated movie that you’re hardly paying attention, focusing instead on the way Duke’s body rests against you. The way his body rises and falls with his breathing. Your dog was bigger, back at home. They full of spunk when they were younger. Chasing anything and everything down until their body succumbed to exhaustion. They barked at every squirrel that climbed any tree in the backyard and waltzed up to any person that walked by them without hesitation. 

“My dog back at home died,” you whisper. 

Calum, who’s been halfway paying attention to the movie, halfway waiting for you to say anything finally pushes up from the floor and sits on the cushions in front of your legs. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, one hand resting on the side of your calf. 

The tear slips down. You don’t try to catch it, you don’t try to stop it. “I mean, he was old for sure. He was in more pain every day and now he’s not. But, like, I wish I could’ve been there.”

Calum doesn’t waste a moment to recline into the opposite end of the cushions and pulls you into his chest. Duke tucks himself in close under your arm and directly in the middle of Calum’s chest. “That’s rough. I’m sorry but if you need anything you know I’m here right.” He can’t offer anymore platitudes. They’re sure to drive you insane but he means it. As his arm slips over your shoulders, he squeezes at them. 

“Think Duke will be pissed if I cry into his fur?”

Calum chuckles though he can hear the tears escaping you. “It’s not like he has much of a choice now. But I’m sure the old man’s not mad. Just happen to get snuggles.”

You listen to the thumping of Calum’s heart in his chest, clutching onto the gray Santa Cruz hoodie covering his chest and cursing yourself that your tears and potential snot are staining the fabric. But you can’t get the sorry you, not even the sob that racks through your body. 

HIs arms are tight around you, holding and soothing. His hum shaking your body just a tiny bit and it provides enough distraction to keep some of the shakes and sobs at bay. “He’s always gonna be around though,” Calum says, referring to your late pet. “He’ll find ways to stay around with you.”

And you think it must mean something when you carry a part of something so much with yourself that it leaves stains so big that they hurt. 

-H

[boymeetsweevil]

mr. cellophane

Grouping: Reader, Tae (haven’t really decided how/where this is going to go just yet)

Word Count: ~1.4k

Summary: you’ve never seen anyone who looked as lonely as Kim Taehyung

a/n: I wanted to write something for Tae’s birthday and about tae’s birthday, but I got this instead. I’ve also been wanting to try my hand at angst and i’m not sure if you would call this angst but... i like it.

Being a work study student had its ups and downs, but you were very grateful for your job at the coffee shop closest to campus. You were the only student on the coffee shop payroll, so the boss kindly let you have access to whatever tips got put in the tip jar when you were on barista duty (you had your own jar with a sticker that said “help put the baby through college”), but usually that was just when they were understaffed and it was particularly busy. Most days were slow, so you got put on cash register duty, which was fine because you could read in between each customer you rang up. It was a lonely job, though. Because of this, you preferred the cash register, even though you missed out on tips, because you could people watch. 

More specifically, you liked to watch one regular customer.

He started coming a few weeks ago, which was understandable because Daegu got cold early this winter. He would order the same thing every time (a large americano with a shot of vanilla simple syrup) and would always sit in the corner table with a single seat by the window. From your time watching him, you’d gleaned that he must have been a fashion student. It explained why he often pulled out pieces of fabric and large sketchbooks. It also explained why you’d never seen him in any of the buildings you frequented despite the university being on the smaller side--you were in the engineering program and the fashion department was on the opposite side of campus. Plus, he dressed in such an avant-garde manner that fashion seemed like the best guess. How you could ever pass him on campus and not notice him baffled you.

But the fashion wasn’t the reason you were prone to watching him. It was the pure and utter aura of loneliness he cast off. In this day and age, you’d never seen someone do work by themselves without earbuds in. Most people who came by themselves to do work did so while probably listening to a podcast or music or maybe ambient noise from a place that wasn’t a coffee shop for obvious reasons. In addition to this, he rarely picked up his phone to take a study break or to seemingly answer text messages from friends and family. Instead, every hour or so he would raise his gaze from his work to look at the other patrons in the shop. There weren’t ever very many other customers and they never did anything that was worth watching, but he would still look up faithfully.

At first you thought you might be kindred spirits. But you started to notice that even you, an introvert with a somewhat small social circle, picked up your phone than the lone student did. Although it was just to tap some response to your curious roommate or make plans with your friends for group dinners in the coming week, it was more than nothing. The more you watched him the more you got a feeling he wasn’t just one of those people whose phone got bombarded with messages that he actively ignored by silencing them. He was just alone.

You hoped at the very least that when winter holiday break started up, he would go home and wouldn’t be staying on campus. You were staying to work because going home would be too expensive. It wasn’t so bad because one of your close friends was staying as well. But somehow you were sure this student had money and could easily go home. So when you saw him come into the shop during the first day of winter break, your heart broke a little. Why would he want to spend his break like this? He seemed to be treating that day like any other day, pulling out his fabric samples after ordering his drink. The only difference was that his shoulders seemed slightly more hunched and he didn’t look up until an employee called to him that the shop was closing.

A few days later you’re leaving your dorm early to study before work when a picture on the lobby bulletin board catches you eye. It was a bulletin that your RA had set up in the beginning of the year to get all the residents a little more acquainted with one another. Once the semester got harder, your RA started slacking on their duties and the board hadn’t been updated since the day she put it up. The board displayed a picture of each resident with a small blurb containing their name, major, birthday, and favorite color. Included amongst the them was the mystery student from the coffee shop. 

Name: Kim Taehyung

Major: Fashion & Art History

DOB: 12/30

Favorite Color: Purple

This was the first time you’d noticed the photo and you walked by the bulletin board twice a day. Moreover, the first semester was nearly over and you’d still never seen him outside the coffee shop before, yet somehow you lived in the same dorm, on the same floor. You tried to push the new information to the back of your head so you could focus on making notes for your new classes next term, but an unpleasant feeling remained in your stomach for the rest of the day.

The feeling only strengthened when you walked into the coffee shop to start your shift and he was already seated in his usual spot, bent over his work. How long had he been there? Did he always arrive before you during this part of the week? It wasn’t until there was half an hour left until closing and he was the only customer left that you identified the feeling as guilt. You had been bored manning the register with no orders coming in and were fiddling with your calendar app when you realized the date. December 30th--It’s his birthday.

You watched as he packed his things in his bookbag slowly, and got up from his table. He never left a mess, you realized as he scooped up the remains of his Americano and some fabric scraps. He surprised you, then, by approaching the cash register. 

You froze up awkwardly. You’d never been manning the register when he placed his orders. You were always nearby sweeping or cleaning the expresso machine. For some reason you couldn’t shake the fact that it was his birthday. Maybe you should say something. Odds were few people, if any, would wish happy birthday today. Just say something.

“Hi, may I-” he began, but you were nervous for some reason and cut him off before he could finish.

“Just so you know, we can’t serve you any more coffee. The machines are done for the day,” you blurted out. You could feel your face heat up in embarrassment when he merely looked at you with a blank expression.

“That’s fine,” he said after a beat, “I just wanted to take a pastry home.”

“S-sure. Which one?” He spread his hands out on the glass countertop and looked below at the few leftover sweets. You noticed his hands were big and tan, his nails were clean and neatly cut. It’s his birthday. Just say something.

“I’ll take the cheese danish.”

He never bought anything else besides his Americano when he came to the shop. You realized this danish was most likely a tiny birthday gift to himself. You wanted to say something, but in the end you kept your mouth shut and only spoke again to rattle off the price.

“Uh 3,500 won. Please.”

He nodded slowly and handed you a 5000w bill. You handed him his change and a receipt. You lowered your eyes, ashamed, as soon as he took them from you and crouched down, pretending to fix something in the glass pastry display. You thought that maybe he was lingering a moment because you could still see his trousers through the class. The voice in the back of your head was screaming at you that you still had time to say something.

You heard a clink and then watched as he left the store. If your boss were still there, he would be appalled that you didn’t wish the customer a good evening. He’d be even more appalled at you if he found out you knew it was a customer’s birthday and didn’t say anything. But your boss wasn’t there and you didn’t come back up until you were certain Kim Taehyung had really left and wouldn’t see you come back up.

Soon you did come back up, only to see that he left his change in your empty tip jar. You opted for leaving it there and crying in the staff locker room instead before closing up the shop.

[evangelineartemiasamos]

How do you feel about Mare, Cal, Maven, Eve, Farley, and Kilorn's character development from the RQ series so far?

Kilorn: I like him and I admire how healways finds a position to support the cause wherever he ends up, despitepeople’s protectiveness towards him as he isn’t a Newblood or soldier. He trulycares about people, is generally open to everyone and doesn’t give up hissupport no matter how stubborn they are. They might be for a reason and herespects that as well. His efforts to learn reading/writing are a good additionas well. The few times he shows up in KC are quality content although there shouldbe more in the last book.

Cal: What character development? No seriously, hislack of change is interesting on its own as it creates a flawed love interestwhose flaws are called out by the narrative. But when I started KC, I wasreally disappointed in him as I expected him to be better. Still mourningthe lack of the Farley x Calbrotp too

Maven: As avillain, he’s great. I like how he wiggles and meanders while seeminglyfollowing some kind of vision. Or how he’s aware of his mistakes but he doesn’tstop on his path. I think he changes his opinion several times although that ismore hinted at.

His actual character development aka his relation to Mare israther confusing to me. Nothing implied him to become physically violenttowards Mare yet he brands her in GS. But once he has her in his capacity, hehardly spends time with her and apart from her restrictions as a prisoner, hismost physically violent act is a forced kiss. I don’t think that adds up. Ifeel like Aveyard added the branding to say once and for all that Mare x Mavenis a bad ship but when she wrote KC, she didn’t want to include actual tortureporn. So why is he violent in GS? Either because of Elara’s mindfucking, as hesays that cutting out romantic feelings doesn’t work so she would’ve triedother methods which made him even more unstable. But that takes awayresponsibility from him. Or because all that matters to him is having Mare closeto him under his control, even if he can’t create a harmonic situation betweenthem, nor bring himself to spend time with her and enjoy it. That’s lowkeyvictim-blaming and reduces Maven’s functioning to be dependant on Mare - whichmakes him utterly boring if his sanity depends having a girl under his control.I really hope Maven won’t go back to his old ways from GS but shows that herealized that Mare hates him and will never be his. I’ll deny the blurb summary until I read the last book myself.

Eve: Another character who doesn’treally change, or only very subtly. I mean the way she regards Mare. At first,Mare is her rival and later enemy who she could attack but during KC she beginsto respect Mare, actively protects her and shows slight envy of her. Although alot of Eve’s actions are ordered by her parents and not coming from herself. Iwouldn’t call the broadened lens we see her from development as she supposedlyhas always been like this, we only haven’t notice. I hope to watch heremancipate herself from her parents though, and Evane happiness as well.

Mare: As the main character, she changesconstantly and still will in the last book. It’s difficult to describe this ina short answer but I like her progression. Mare takes responsibility yet sherues her decisions. She suffers from her emotional injuries and displaysdissociation, denial, loneliness, vengeful feelings and emotional need ofsupport. And sometimes she’s pure spite. This is very well-rounded andespecially her change to show more compassion is well done although she staysinattentive in other regards. But she never gives up, she even puts her beliefsabove her love life which is admirable. I wish her happiness.

Farley: You see, she’s my favourite and to agreat part because of her character development. I use this ask to describe ita little more thorough, okay?

She starts as the soldierstill burying her grief deep inside of her and completely denying to trust inthe one person sharing her feelings, her father. She’s extremely resentful ofhim and this doesn’t change of a sudden. Her denial of closeness and opennessextends to her comrades despite her concerns for them and the responsibilityshe feels for them. Note that a lot of them die and the grief she bears forthem isn’t mentioned in the books although it has to be present in her mind. Someof those deaths are her fault, by trusting Maven and by telling him aboutNaercey, which increases her guilt and justifies the colonel stripping her ofher rank. Yet she fights on and seeks allies despite a bad reputation followingher during GS.

She denies her crush onShade as well, for a long time, and this is both very believable and cute af.The moment he asks for a her first name shows how much attention he pays to herand that he doesn’t merely accept her cold front and it’s probably somethingshe needed to happen - she couldn’t open up by herself but she continues toopen to Shade and other people from this point onwards. This is one of my favouritemoments of RQ.

I believe she keeps hertrust about personal information limited to Shade for a long time. I believethere are many moments of pillow talk about her past, feelings and hopes andShade reciprocates in equal manner.

And while his loss has tobe devastating, she doesn’t allow herself to be dragged down by grief. Shestill remembers her promise to protect Mare (when she and Shade watched Queenstrial)and does as much as possible to save her while keeping a cool head. Farleymight be very outspoken but she’s level-headed as well and you know,level-headed characters are the best and I wish there were more. Also, when Icall her a feminist icon, I mean that I adore how she never thinks, not for onesecond, someone was allowed to talk down to her, belittle her, or disregard heropinions, no matter that she’s Red, without a superpower, a woman, a mother.She’s ambitious and self-confident all around and this is the kind of characterI want to met in fiction because she’s inspiring af.

I think her motherhood is acharacter development per se - how can you have a child without changing insome ways? Her pregnancy correlates to Shade’s death her increasing openness andcare for others, so you can either put that to down to maternal instincts orher realization that she doesn’t wish for more losses and estrangements, thusshe takes the lead in building friendships now. When it comes to Clara, I headcanonthat she wants to avoid emotional restraints to begin with, instead she showersher with love and tries to be as honest as possible. Her concerns about privacymay remain in some instances, but her child will be an exemption. Please noteshe doesn’t try to hide that she loves her child in an attempt to appear resoluteor to exude authority. It doesn’t matter.One second she can smile at her baby and the next she voices orders and she’srespected just the same.

But I don’t mean to sayshe’s perfect. She’s lied for her purposes and one of her victims is Mare. Farleyconfesses her lies to Cameron, so it’s not like Aveyard has forgotten aboutthem, but it should be Mare herself to hear the truth and forgive Farley or not.