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dearestones · 1 year ago

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Muscle Memory Part Three (Azul Ashengrotto and Reader)

Warnings: Exploration of merfolk culture, elaboration on certain aspects of canon lore, bullying, mentions of blood and gore, etc.

@lottieinlimbo Request: Hi Devin!!! Congratulations on the 750 followers :D!! Your writing is incredible, you have more than earned your success!!!! I’m here to steal the final request slot! There were a lot of cool prompts that would have been fascinating with multiple characters, it was hard to choose! But I’m thinking “why did you help me?” With Azul could be really fun, maybe something platonic? I’m really excited to see what you do with this, congrats again on 750 followers!!

To be clear and frank, you were a physical therapist interning at a government facility on a small island not many people knew about. You were not a teacher. You were not meant to be someone others sought out for counseling. That said, you did attend a workshop about empathy and you completed a semester on the principles and strategies of health education. If pushed to it, you could teach a class on how to prevent injury during exercise and what to do after recovering from hospitalization, but you wouldn’t say that you were qualified to settle petty squabbles between teenagers.

The day started out like any other. You woke up, went into the cafeteria after grooming yourself and had enjoyed a meal that was savory and warm. After a cup of coffee, you retreated into the labs to take stock of the recently delivered potions and reviewed your notes from yesterday. The session with your batch of merfolk wasn’t until the early afternoon (mornings usually consisted of lectures on land culture, reviews of previous lessons, and perhaps a few quizzes if their instructors were so inclined), but you wanted to be at the top of your game. You were one semester away from graduating and that meant that you couldn’t tolerate any mistakes.

Soren, an early riser like you, teased you for studiousness until you reminded him that he was the same.

“I always wake up early.” He defended himself. “Unlike you, though, I happen to be spending most of my time playing games.”

He then shoved his phone in front of your face until you were assaulted with images of famous idols dancing and singing to the most popular music. Try as you might, you ended up spending a half hour watching memes and making crude jokes before the both of you finally settled down.

At some point, your supervisor had bustled in, face shiny with sweat and her eyes preoccupied with important matters that you and your fellow intern had refrained from making a smart comment or a joke. It was clear from the beginning of your internship that while your supervisor was nicer than most, there were still limits to her mercy and that if she showed signs of taking her job seriously (not that she ever fully let her guard down since there was always a risk of lawsuits), so should you.

Upon seeing the both of you, she charged forward and set a sheaf of documents upon the lab table. As one, both you and Soren took in the contents and then—

“Damn,” Soren whistled. “You seriously weren’t kidding when you thought one of yours would end up quitting. I thought the second day quitters were a myth.”

Your eyes traced over the letter that she had submitted. It was well written, if a bit hastily scrawled, but there was a hidden strength in your classic mer’s words. It was brief, but Adria conveyed how happy she was to have received this rare opportunity to attend land boot camp, but she realized how much commitment and sacrifice it took to live between two seemingly different, uncrossable worlds. After explaining that she was not strong enough to continue with the rest of the training, she ended up thanking you personally by name.

After confirming that you were done scanning the letter, Soren turned it over to find that there was a signed NDA.

Of course, there was no need for bad press considering nothing bad happened yesterday.

Just a scared little girl who needed more time to process.

“You get used to it, Soren.” You put Adria’s file into a cabinet for future safekeeping. Knowing the bureaucracy and red tape that governments were so fond of, you didn’t doubt that they had already scanned and uploaded the letters and pertinent documents into a virtual archive. “Some merfolk love the idea of getting legs, but don’t understand how much pain and willpower it takes to achieve it for full time use.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off. “I saw you eyeing the other groups yesterday. What do you think? Other quitters in our midst?”

You shrugged, not wanting to contribute to such negative talk about the merfolk. It wasn’t their fault that accessibility to the transformation was fraught with complications and pain that had not yet been fully circumvented.

“I think all three of mine are staying… and if I’m not mistaken, I think your twins are staying too.”

Soren rubbed the bridge of his nose before shooting you a dark look. “If you say it, you’re manifesting it. Shut up.”

“Isn’t it our job to convince them to stay?”

“Shut up!”

After a brief lunch, Soren, your supervisor, and yourself made your way back to the boardwalk. Today, the three of you were early, which meant that you and Soren were busy splashing each other in the water while your supervisor studied the beach for any misplaced trash or pretty shells. She wasn’t strict, relatively speaking, but it shocked you sometimes to see that she could look so approachable when she wasn’t busy delivering live demonstrations or lectures.

Pretty soon, though, your brief fun was cut short when your students began swimming in from their underwater dormitories. You had only been down there once during orientation: it was a series of grottos and underwater caves that could be lit or kept dark depending on the type of mer’s preferences. The bioluminescence was controlled by magic that could be invoked by a simple incantation. For those who were magicless, they simply needed someone to aid them.

Once again, you stationed yourself upon the far end of the boardwalk, your three mers either floating or trying to wriggle up the boardwalk to paw at the cooler. You gently nudged the interloper away (the angler fish was a tad more mischievous than you thought she would be) as you stated that no one should be messing around with equipment especially provided by the government. Rules were supposed to be enforced, you reminded all three of them. Even if they meant no harm, it was still best to err on the side of caution.

Potions could be volatile if not handled correctly and the risk of drowning was still high even if they were born to swim.

“With that out of the way,” you took a peek at your roster and pulled out the second name on your list, which happened to belong to the angler fish, “since Azul was so kind to volunteer himself to be first yesterday, we’ll have Pacifica as the next volunteer.”

The teenagers snickered amongst themselves as the angler fish mer steadily drew herself up to the boardwalk and held out a clawed hand. Carefully, you gave her the vial and watched as she neatly uncorked it and tipped the contents into her gaping maw.

Like yesterday, it was apparent that she was in great pain. However, while your assigned spotters had to make sure that she remained upright and above water from the previous session, she had enough presence of mind to grasp onto the boardwalk and breathe steadily through the pain. As expected, she had become a little more tolerant of the pain.

“Excellent,” you praised her. She beamed up at you, sharp teeth still on display, but you were confident that you were not in harm’s way. You turned towards the rest of your students and waved them away. “I’ll focus on her for now just to make sure she remembers the basics. Keep to yourselves and don’t bother the other groups.”

At their nods of assent, you retraced your teachings of treading water, which would hopefully lead into learning how to float and swim in the water.

For a while, it seemed that all was going according to plan. It had been almost five minutes and she was already showing considerable growth in both her speed and reaction time when it came to her human body. The angler fish mer was resilient and keen on trying out how to swim and had been excitedly clicking her jaws in delight when she began to sniff the air experimentally.

Most animalistic mers, particularly the predators, had a keener sense of smells than most humans and were on par with both beastman and several species of fae. Of course, with the addition of the transformation potion, you would think some senses were muddled, but every mer that had taken the potion had mixed results concerning what was lost and what was retained.

Even the mermaid princess had lost her voice before her father had given her enough magic to return it to her.

That said, you wondered what had caught her attention. Was it a prospective meal? Or—

She snapped her face towards you and for once, you felt yourself gulp at the serrated teeth jutting out of her mouth in an overbite that could only spell trouble.

“Someone’s bleeding.”

You felt the chill of reality envelope your entire being as you surveyed the area. Every worker at this facility, especially the ones who worked closely with the merfolk, were aware of the risks. Prey could be just as dangerous as predators if pushed, which meant that even the most affable of mers needed to be taken seriously.

You helped the angler fish mer into the boardwalk to keep her out of trouble and so she could start splashing the water to keep her active before you scanned the water for any anomalies. So far, nothing, but you could tell that the other two groups were becoming antsy.

Hurriedly, you approached your supervisor, her aged face wrinkling in dismay.

“One of my students smelled blood.”

She nodded to you, immediately understanding the situation. Her batch of merfolk consisted of the older generation with one other who was closer to you in age. Under hushed tones, she gestured for them to keep themselves and to continue treading water. One of the older male merfolk spread his arms wide, treading the water without holding onto the boardwalk for support.

Your supervisor hurried over to your fellow intern, who was busy trying to stop two—two?—eel merfolk from dashing away to your side. You wanted to check out why they were so agitated, but your own batch of merfolk required your utmost attention. You only saw the brilliant flash of dark green tails diving underwater before Soren began barking out orders to resurface.

Three predators to one prey.

That would make at least nine predators in the entire group and if the eel merfolk were any indication, that would mean at least seven others were going to be just as restless.

Thankfully, your angler fish mer was sitting rigidly on the boardwalk, her feet submerged but motionless under the water. You couldn't blame her for not training her muscles. Her face, while expressionless, was stone cold with concentration and you saw that every time she flexed her fingers upon the wood of the boardwalk, bits and pieces would flake off into the water. It was apparent that she was doing everything she could to not move from this position.

The scent of blood must be close.

As much as her restraint filled you with relief that she wasn't moving anywhere, you were still very much aware that you had three students because one of the classic mers quit. Where was the other classic mer and the cecaelia?

Your mind immediately jumped to the worst possible scenario. Had the cecaelia finally decided to bite back at the classic mer? Strange, you could have sworn that there wasn’t any animosity in the group yesterday, except for the wary tension between the cecaelia and the angler fish mer. The fright from Adria yesterday shouldn’t be an impetus for today’s mishap, right? She was gone and as far as you knew, the other classic mer hadn’t itneracted with the cecaelia at all.

Despite your racing thoughts, you didn’t want to waste time.

Diving into the lowermost portion of the cooler, you picked up a vial that was to be used only in emergencies. It was a potion that helped surface dwellers breathe underwater. This single vial was horribly expensive, but the effects were immediate and could last up to an hour if used correctly. You had no time to recall your training; you took off the stopper, threw back the potion, and then dove into the water once your mouth began to close and gills carved themselves into your neck.

Another thing that was great about the water breathing potion was that it mimicked what it would be like to have heightened senses like a mer. Humans or any land dweller wouldn’t gain fins (not unless they had a true transformation potion), but they could hear, speak, and breathe underwater. Eyesight was also heightened and there were some people who thought that their sense of smell was also strengthened, but there was still research done into this topic.

Because these potions (alongside the transformation potions) were highly regulated, you had only used this potion at least five times before. The first three times were due to practice and to acclimate you to its effects should you need to dive (literally) into an emergency but the last two were because…

Sometimes, the screening for the merfolk was not stringent enough.

It was rare, but sometimes a few bad eggs happened to slip through the cracks. Speaking ill of other land boot camp operations wasn’t a hobby of yours, but during those two emergencies, you knew for certain that sometimes, the stress of adapting to new things combined with basically competing with other merfolk facilitated an environment that could potentially lead to infighting. Most operations made sure to group merfolk based on the zones they came from, but it was most apparent between the pelagic and benthic zones (although, it was rare for mers to come from the deepest parts of the ocean).

Most predator and prey mers had long since learned how to coexist in an uneasy truce (quite like how the different species of beastfolk learned how to live under one rule), but it wasn’t uncommon for fights to become deadly.

Equipped with that knowledge, you allowed yourself only a few seconds to get used to the sudden physiological changes in your body, before opening your eyes and heading towards the source of the merfolks’ discontent.

What you saw shocked you.

Underneath the waves, you had expected to see a trail of red blood drifting like spilled ink throughout the underwater environment. However, what you didn’t expect to see was thin, whispery swathes of royal blue wisps dancing in the water and spreading like wildfire. You gasped, shocked, as you traced the royal blue liquid to the source…

What was even worse than the sight that you held before you, was the shouts and keening whimpers from the two merfolk who were currently locked in battle.

Actually, that was a mistake of perception on your part.

It wasn’t a battle or even a struggle for that matter.

At the bottom of the sea floor, the cecaelia was curled into himself, his limbs protecting his torso and his head. Two of his octopus arms were loosely curled around the tail and torso of his attacker. At first glance, one would think that Azul was squeezing tightly, but it was quite apparent that even if he were doing that, it was out of self defense.

The remaining classic mer, a male, was biting and punching at Azul's arms, his nails somehow piercing through the thick skin that was slick with slime. Azul, was trying to curl into himself while simultaneously extending the arms that held the classic mer far away from himself. Due to his efforts, it seemed that most of the damage was concentrated around those two main appendages, but you saw the same tendrils of blue blood lazily stream from scratches upon Azul’s pale chest and upon his cheek.

You were horrified.

For a moment, your body refused to move, your eyes wide with horror. However, just as you were stuck floundering with what you had to do (your inexperience as an intern inevitably rearing its head for the first time in a long time), your eyes were caught by a pair of bright blue pupils.

Azul, who was trying to curl into a ball and stem the blood flow from his wounds, seemed to shy away from your gaze. Despite the helpless situation that he was in, you couldn’t detect a cry for help or even the same sort of determination that you often associated with him considering how much work he put into kicking and treading yesterday. No, instead, you were stunned into silence at the resignation that lay heavy in his eyes.

All too soon, Azul's gaze drifted back to his attacker, the grip that his arms had on the classic mer gradually slipping from the effort that the other mer was using in order to both escape and attack.

"Stop!"

Without so much thinking of the consequences, you uttered a short incantation meant to incapacitate and another to separate the two mers. Although you didn't often advertise your adeptness with magic, magical proficiency was one of the few skills that was guaranteed to get you far. Technically speaking, you didn't need to know magic to become a physical therapist (be it for the merfolk initiative or not), but it was a boon to have. In fact, with the way you raved about merfolk culture and how much you wanted to help out your dear friend Shelley, your parents and other close friends thought that you would participate in the science of transformation potionology with your ample supply of magic that coursed through your veins.

That was simply not the case.

Potions were one thing, but they were notoriously complicated and it often took years of experimentation and trials before change could be enacted. For someone like yourself, you wanted to be an inherent part of a mer's experience when it came to helping them adjust upon land. You had your eyes set upon physical therapy long before you knew what it meant.

Helping Shelley was the step in the right direction and you had kept walking that same path all these years.

In a way, aiding merfolk this way had become nothing short of muscle memory: unconscious and immediate instinct honed from practice.

The invocation of a third level spell was more than enough to tear the merfolk apart while also simultaneously pinning the male classic mer to the ocean floor. Satisfied that your magic would hold, you furiously swam to the cecaelia, fully intent on scanning him for injuries.

Amidst the shouted obscenities, threats, and slurs against the cecaelia, you heard baseless accusations of Azul driving the other classic mer away from the boot camp. In helpless resignation, you could only watch as the young wounded mer curled into an even tighter ball now that all ten of his limbs were free to protect himself. Had you not been paying attention to him the entire time, you would have thought that he was melting into the ocean floor with the way his skin effortlessly blended in with the environment.

One of the masters of camouflage, you remembered reading from your mother's textbooks. Second only to cuttlefish.

"Azul," you whispered. You tried to speak louder, to overcome the angered yells from behind you. Normally, you would cast another minor curse amid the other spells to shut the classic mer up, but your mind was too frazzled and you were more focused on Azul's comfort than on the other mer's anger. Furthermore, you hadn't seen a reason to bring your magestone with you, often opting to leave it in your dorm room because you rarely used magic. Because of your lack of foresight, though, the sting of blot was only barely noticeable against the backdrop of anxiety and stress.

Breathe, you had to remind yourself as you had so often reminded your students.

In through your nose.

Out through the mouth.

"Azul," you said again, but you were not surprised to note that your attempts yielded no reward.

Before you could beat yourself up, you instead focused on the blue blood steadily drifting from his wounds. Despite the fact that his limbs were tightly around himself to make his body look smaller, you were able to separate some of his octopus arms so that you could assess the damage by gently rubbing and patting his skin, careful not to apply too much pressure or to move erratically.

Of the arms that he decided to loosen around his body, he only obliged with six. For the rest of his appendages, he continued to hide his face away or to wrap his torso and tighter and tighter... almost as if he were hoping that he could become a rock to accompany the rest of the landscape.

As you continued to clinically catalog all of the scars that would have to be noted in his file later, you heard your supervisor speaking to the classic mer while Soren swam up to you, his face lined with worry and in his hands, a medkit.

"That bad?" You muttered.

Soren sighed.

"The paperwork is going to be worse."

Together, the two of you tended to Azul while your supervisor called for security and the immediate removal of the classic mer from the land boot camp program.

Tagging: @missam

[PART ONE] [PART TWO] [PART THREE HERE] [PART FOUR]

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

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#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland azul #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #twst azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland azul ashengrotto #twst reader #twisted wonderland reader #gender neutral reader #gn! reader #platonic reader #azul ashengrotto and reader #azul and reader #twst azul ashengrotto and reader #twst azul and reader #dearestones #devintrinidad

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sovinly · 8 years ago

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That's such an interesting fic meme idea! I'd like the Leverage OT3 version of Let Us Speak of a Letter, please

Ohhh, that’s such an interesting premise!

Hardison is the one who wakes up in a strange city and a strange time. And, because Alec is Alec, there are no doubts about that - those phones, those cars, they’re not anything like he knows, and the newspapers confirm it, he is definitely a bit more than a decade into the future. Some sort of conspiracy? Future!Alec has made some sort of time travel tech? He doesn’t know, but that’s kind of lower on the priority list.

Look, he’s consumed a ton of scifi and fantasy and comics, being thrown forward into a possible timeline is something Alec’s wrapped his head around and imagined a hundred times.

He’s also not at all surprised to crack open his wallet and find a bunch of fake IDs - Alec already has a couple, even if they aren’t quite as good as these. Future!Alec has an FBI badge, which seems heart-poundingly risky but also rad as hell. The idea that he’s still a hacker, well, that’s not weird at all, even if Alec himself is still learning a lot of things.

The weird thing is. Well, the weird thing is mostly that he owns (co-owns?) a brewpub. That he has - friends?

Because Eliot and Parker are definitely dating one another, it’s obvious in the way their eyes dart like some of his foster siblings do but not at one another like threats, the way they’re casually physical with one another.

Seeing Alec seems to throw them for a loop. Eliot scowls as he figures out what’s going on, arms crossed defensively across his built chest, and Alec’s heart seizes with the instinct of meeting too many angry jocks, but Eliot just points viciously at the couch and then, a few minutes later, drops a sandwich in front of him. Parker edges around Alec, peering at him with discomfort and something unhappy, intense, but she also calls him Alec (Eliot says, immediate and familiar, “Hardison”). Whatever, it’s a damn comfortable couch and a damn tasty sandwich.

Which is to say, Alec isn’t wrestling with who he is, but. It takes him most of the week to realize that Future!Alec is dating them too. That he must love them, that they must love him. That he has a safe place of his own, that he has a place of his own, warm and comfortable and high tech and thoughtful in the way Alec is scared to show anyone he can be. There’s an easy generosity to what Alec knows is his own work, the way there is to Eliot’s cooking, to whatever it is that occupies Parker’s attention on her fancy phone.

Alec knows his Nana loves him, but. But he’s not used to anyone wanting him, choosing him, making space for him. That’s the fear that grips him deep in the night, that he drowns in the blue light of the computer screen, that he’ll always be alone (Nana’s medical bills are starting to mount, she’s old and Alec knows it).

The future, with its WoW expansions and pending Star Wars (with a black man! A black man as a hero! Alec’s future self had damn well better be appropriately excited) and its technological advances, is pretty great, and he delights in exploring it, in letting Parker and Eliot share Portland with him. Alec doesn’t tell them that he’s figured it out, because, well, he can acknowledge it’s weird, he’s read fanfic, okay, he knows that meeting your lover as a kid is squicky as hell, but knowing that future him is loved so deeply and known so well... it heals some cracks deep down, quiet little hurts that Alec hardly dares to acknowledge.

And meanwhile. Meanwhile. Parker calls Sophie and barely has to say anything, because she mostly only likes talking through things like this with Alec, who is not Alec right now. Sophie, though, is kind, and doesn’t once offer to come sweeping in, which Parker appreciates. Parker is so used to feeling like a cornered animal, so used to looking past Eliot’s terrified snarl, that she never really realized how much Alec hurt too, because he’s got the hunted look at the corners of his eyes, not easy with them and their home. Anything that isn’t Alec’s, he barely touches, like he’s still expecting to be uprooted in a moment. It makes a keening noise build up in Parker’s throat, one she can’t let out.

And meanwhile, meanwhile. Fae magic has a distinctive feel. Eliot isn’t amused. He does his best. Eliot gets on with teenagers, but this is Hardison. And seeing Hardison wary of him again is painful, and even when he relaxes, Eliot feels like there’s no way he can be delicate enough about this. Parker is edgy about this, too, he knows, and Eliot doesn’t know how to be the glue here, has always appreciated Hardison, but missing him and how he balances them both strikes Eliot deeply. He just... does his best, and tries to be as honest as he can. It’s Eliot who meets the faerie (he thinks Parker has an idea of what’s going on, but she all but bares her teeth about the Otherworldly, so he doesn’t ask), Eliot who pours a glass of milk and crosses his arm, and doesn’t buy any of the fucking bullshit about why.

There’s no challenge, no trial this time. Yet. Eliot isn’t holding is breath. (He is, though, feeling like his chest is tightening as he waits, waits, waits, each hour immeasurable.)

Alec wakes up himself again, still bubbly with the giddiness of knowing there’s magic (that this future felt like magic), and fuck faeries, man. He goes to them, and kisses them, and he’s home.

He has a home. They have a home.

(Those cracked and burned places, already scarred, start grow a little greener still.)

#sovin writes things #long post #deaging cw #i don't think i have a tag for them?#or character tags whoops #leverage ot3 #leverage #i love them all so much #more nice things for hardison 2k17 #anyway!#thank you so much for the fascinating prompt to explore :D #yuri-puppies

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writingonesdreams · 2 years ago

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Happy sts to you, Dreams ^^ I hope you're having a lovely one. I don't have a specific question for you this week, so consider this your free pass to ramble about whatever writing-related has been on your mind recently, and also, to take a page from your book, may I have an update on how your writing is going? :D

Hehe update question, why not :D

I have actually two new characters as you might have noticed. Juno, fellow researcher and earth elemental and Cameron, from the international dragon management who will play an interesting contrast to Zephyr for Skye and be important for Zephyr's arc as a whole. I have been gathering and writing down quotes for their scenes all week, hadn't yet had time to write them down in full yet cause exams. But the exam from literary theory I'm taking is proving to be quite entertaining and inspiring on it's own. There are actually researchers for pop culture and genre defining books like Twilight and Hunger Games? And schemas fantasy follows, with four most well-known? This is great food for the thesis I'll be writing this semester.

I'm also coming to terms Zephyr's character might be better of telling me what it wants to be like himself, and through my unconscious decisions about him instead of conscious ones, cause when I overanalyze him I just give myself a headache. Someone remind me of that in my next Zepnyr related crisis XD. But like I found this movie series Hornblower about this rising ship captain in the navy and he is so heroic, noble, moral, polite, strict with himself...and so obsessed with all those heroic ideals, keeping his word, the greater causes it's hilarious and reminds me of Zephyr. I think he could nicely manifest the greater good and heroic ideals arguments - to show their charm and also their pitfalls. I hate the greater good argument personally, but he could be a good OC to explore and subvert it with.

I always struggled with making my OCs flawed in case they were too imperfect, cause if a flaw went too far I was the one to stop liking them XD. Is what I can't stand writing villains or abhorrent behavior. But recent debates with Nectar kinda made me realize that the fun aspect could come above the relatablity aspect and if I focus more on the dissonance between characters and myself and what I consider right and perfect...I would have much more freedom. To let my OCs do some questionable and nasty things. Maybe get called out on them, maybe not.

As much for plot stuff. Unrelated to that I found out about Sicktember and Whumptober and I'm considering writing this mini series of hurt/comfort moments for my cast just for myself (since I don't know if and where to post it anyway). The lack of plot and higher meaning for these fascinating self-indulgent instances still worries me, plus there is also the factor of how much do you have to know and care about a character before you enjoy seeing them suffer or get comforted? But I gathered a prompt list and scene ideas, so maybe it will work. Or maybe it will work better once I introduce Kieran and Cameron properly (do those two names sound too similar in English? They look different enough written, but I'm not sure and I hate similar names. Terror of storytelling experience brr).

Ha, look at that, I rumbled quite a bit. Hehe this question will work for me, I always have some weird writing thoughts going on XD.

Thanks for asking!

#sts #ask #writeblr #spilled ink #though ofc I appreciate your creative questions as well #you have a nice touch with them^^

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busymagpie · 3 years ago

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Just wanted to stop by and thank you again for your art in general and doing the kintober 2021. It is so crucial that sexual intimacy be explored and talked about openly, and you contributed so much to this.

Your capacity to capture emotion is astonishing. I mean, just look at the range of feelings explored in Rough and Lingerie, to Second Mirror prompt, to Clothed + Tender.

Also, something I am always fascinated by is how you manage to keep consistency of character - their facial features / bodily proportions / hair styles - match throughout. I know it's a very hard thing to do.

It is lovely to see your style evolve and your skills get honed. It is visible even if there are days when you don't feel it is.

Anyway, thank you for sharing and I hope uni life is treating you well :D

Thank you so much for your kind words!! 😭💕💕 You're right! Sexual intimacy and sexuality in general is a topic that shouldn't be taboo and should be talked about openly. Personally I find people are more accepting of the fact that I'm ace, because I talk openly about sexuality. Thank you! This is something I'm still trying to improve, but I'm glad it seems to be going in the right direction! Also I think I only manage to keep consistency with Mae and Finno, because I've drawn them countless times now and by now I know what they look like. It's so much more difficult with other characters. You're spoiling me with nice words and compliments 😭💗 Looking back at my older stuff (that doesn't seem all that old) it's crazy how much has changed already, and I'm glad it has. I'm glad I have someone to share it with ❤ (Btw uni is still kinda chill, but that will probably change when we start 3D modelling in December 😅)

#thank you 💕💕💕#asks

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dropofgoldensun · 3 years ago

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omg hiiiii i am here from cat (@luvdsc) wondering if you could offer any advice about college apps 🙏 especially about the uc piqs? thank you so much i hope ur doing well!!!!!!!!

yes yes hello friend !! 💝 miss cat directed you to me because i did my college apps last year !!! (yikes one year passed already?? why does that feel ages ago 🤧)

first of all, congratulations on making the decision to apply to college !! i know it’s been hard for a lot of people our age to figure out the college situation recently, so i’m proud of you for choosing to take the extra step this summer to buckle up and write those essays 💞

i’ve compiled a few tips on answering the PIQs (i was actually in the middle of typing this up when i received your ask haha), but some of them can be applied to other essays, as well !! they’re all under the cut (because, unfortunately, being brief is not my forte) 😊

(and for reference, the prompts i chose were #2 (creativity), #6 (subject), #7 (community), and #8 (anything) !!)

tip #1: understand the prompt.

before you even begin writing, it’s important to understand what the question is really asking. for the UC PIQs, this will look different depending on which four prompts you decide to do.

in question one, for example, they want to know about your skills in leading others, but notice that they’re also curious about your resolution abilities and teamwork experience. or in question two, they don’t want to know that you paint and that you love painting—they could be asking how resourceful you are, how you think outside the box when you have an idea.

once you know the question you’re going to be answering, you can move on to brainstorming!

tip #2: write down three (3) key takeaways.

these are like the most basic, not-even-a-sentence answers you would give to each question. so for me, in response to question eight (“what do you believe makes you stand out as a strong candidate for the UCs?”), my answers were perseverance, courage, and character. i had a story about that, so i wrote about my experience with martial arts.

i recommend you do something similar. decide on three things that you want to communicate to your audience, and write them in the footnote of your document. your goal is to cover all three points so that, if anyone were to read your essay, they would walk away understanding those three things about you.

i found this strategy really helpful for keeping my essay streamlined while writing—if a sentence didn’t relate to any of those main points, i would cut it since those words would take up valuable space in the word count. stay focused on what needs to be in this essay, and if you have extra words left in the word count later, you can add those details back in.

and once you’re done with your essay, make sure to refer back to your takeaways and check that you covered all of them sufficiently!

tip #3: highlight your stories.

i sent cat an ask a couple days ago with a few pictures of my response to an end-of-year college counseling survey that referenced this tip (you can find it here). basically i said that, when choosing what topics to write about, pick things that interest you! if you get excited talking about it, your audience should get excited about reading it, because they’ll pick up on the passions you have and then everyone’s excited !!! :D

i’ll tell you a secret: everyone you meet, everyone you see, has countless unique experiences that few others may have. me? i spend hours making mashups out of kpop songs. i earned my black belt years after a traumatizing experience during training. i get russian harry potter and spanish dr. seuss books from the library. and i created a collaborative online google photos album for my classmates that now has thousands of entries. although these aren’t necessarily unique to only me, they’re still special enough to the point where, when you put them all together, you get a better image of the person i am, and what i value.

so find a story, a habit, a hobby that makes you different, because i believe that everyone has them. give them some food for thought, or that one-liner that sticks in their brain and won’t go away. and remember: these stories don’t all have to be extraordinary—they should be about people or moments of special value to you, because that’s what matters.

personal tip: when i was brainstorming ideas, i decided that the best way to get ideas out there was to go on a rant (because sometimes it helps to just have a conversation with yourself !!) and i recorded myself, so i could replay what i said !! this was so so crucial to me finding my own voice for writing essays. notice the way you word things when you talk—a good line or two may make it into the final draft :)

i found it helpful to read sample essays as well! they give a lot of great ideas on the kinds of topics people write about. (also, it’s kind of fun, because who doesn’t love a good story?)

but the people reading your essay won’t be there to just enjoy your story; what they really want you to do is to tell them what you learned from your experience. they want to know whether you’re teachable and willing to grow both as a student and as a young adult. so make sure to take note of the life lessons you learned, experience you gained, character you built, etc.

minor tip on ending your essay: if you’re telling a story that happened in the past, then close with what you learned and how you can apply that to your life moving forward. if you’re telling a story that has no definite end yet (like a passion or dream you have), you probably don’t have everything figured out (and you can say that in your essay!), so it might be better to close with your hopes for the future.

tip #4: ask your family for help.

peer-editing is one of the most effective ways to detect errors and inconsistencies in your writing, because, after staring at your essay for so long, you might gloss over glaring contradictions. for all of my essays, i printed them out and asked my parents to help me revise them. we’d meet every other night (or every night, depending on how much time was left) to review and discuss improvements.

i actually kept some of those printed drafts (only the first and the final ones for comparison), and let me tell you from experience—you’re probably going to have a lot of drafts (i think the most i did was seven? but you don’t need to go that far!). this part of the process does take some time, so remember to be patient and kind to yourself :) these essays won’t happen overnight!

enlisting the help of others also helps keep you accountable. one of the struggles many seniors face while writing essays is just... setting aside time to do them. and even though the constant reminders from your parents will definitely get repetitive and a bit stress-inducing, i can tell you from personal experience that i’m so glad they did; otherwise, i don’t think i’d have my essays done in time :’)

while writing college essays is challenging, your family will be there supporting you each step of the way. chances are that they’ll have their own pointers to pass on to you, since they probably remember doing this process themselves! and, out of everyone in your life, they probably remember the most about you (because you probably don’t remember much when you were four or five), so they might have a couple starter ideas for topics when brainstorming. you can rely on them for their advice and their experience.

tip #5: self-editing.

here’s the part that takes the longest time.

use action words. this is probably something you’ve heard all throughout elementary school where they didn’t like you to say “said” because it was “boring”… but honestly, the difference between “doing my own version” and “infusing it with my personality” could go a long way. also, use words that you would actually use in an essay—then it’ll have your own special flair, and not sound like it’s taken from some stuffy 80s textbook!

here are some of the words i used (once again, you shouldn’t use these words if they don’t sound like something you’d write/say): potential, overlay, wrestle, launch, analogous, weave, infuse, experiment, outlet, revel, fascinate, satisfaction, pursue, expand, distinction, capture, range, archive, engage, beyond, build, adversity, cultivate, preserve, commit, explore, convey, naturally

also, be on the lookout for repeated words. i once wrote an essay without noticing that i used “hope” three times in the same paragraph. don’t do that! use synonyms :) personally, i tended to run short on synonyms, so i always kept a tab or two open on my computer reserved for searching up new words.

side note: unfortunately, during my search for synonyms, i discovered that thesaurus.com just didn’t give me what i was looking for. i highly recommend using wordhippo instead; it has so many more options and they’re grouped by the different definitions of your word! i found the synonyms i needed really quickly and it was very satisfying!

avoid the passive voice! my teacher gave me this tip for theses or any other college-level writing. here’s an example of the passive voice: “there was a large part of me that wanted to turn back.” that’s twelve words taking up precious space in your word count! instead, say something like, “i considered turning back.” you’ve just freed up eight words :)

tip #6: final revisions.

this is the step where you fine-tune your essays. meet that word count.

read your writing out loud. does it sound like you? it should. every writer has a different voice, and you need to ensure that yours is pervasive throughout your essay. feel free to use contractions—not only do they reduce your word count (this was a good thing for me, since i had a problem with getting under 350 words), but they also give a more casual tone to your essay, as if you’re telling a story to someone in the room.

next, pretend to be an admissions officer and have someone else read your essay to you. do you get excited hearing about this student who shares your name? if you do, there’s a good chance the real admissions officers will love your essays, too. this also gives you a chance to review to your essay as a whole. pay attention to the overall flow. is there a clear beginning and end? do you resolve the issues and overcome the trials you brought up? listen to it as if it’s a story, and take this time to enjoy what you’ve written. you worked hard!

final thoughts / encouragements.

oh my goodness, did we make it to the end? honestly if you did, thank you so much 🥺

okay but despite my relatively optimistic tone throughout this post, i’m still going to be honest with you—the college essay writing process is difficult. it requires you to look inside yourself and analyze the “why” behind some of the things that you love, and that isn’t easy to do at all. it’s intellectually and emotionally challenging, because not only do you need to use so much energy writing, but you also have to dig deeper to understand yourself, and that’s not easy, either.

but i wanted to encourage you, too. no matter what you may think of yourself at 12am, 2am, 4am writing these essays, believe you have a personality that others love and will love when they meet you. you are an interesting person with unique experiences who deserves to share your thoughts with others. you have so many people behind you, supporting you during these next few months. and when you find that you can’t write any more, remember to take time to care for yourself. have a warm shower. go to bed early. i could go on and on about why sleep is good for your brain but i’ll spare you the details in this post 😉

one last thing: keep the bigger picture in focus. remember, by december or january, you will be finished with most of the application process. that’s no small accomplishment. you can do it. 💝

i really hope you found tips that you were looking for, and that they’re applicable to your own PIQs and other essays !! if you have any other questions, feel free to send in another ask (i promise my response won’t be this lengthy LOL) 💘💓

oh, and if you feel comfortable enough reaching out about anything in particular, i’m only a DM away 💕 i wish you the best of luck on writing your essays and i hope you enjoy your final year of high school !! 💗🌸💟💖

#asks #college tips

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Note

heya, for the supernatural prompts, could I request Ghost Nagito with 23? tysm!

I went a bit alternate universe there, hope you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting :D

“It’s been centuries since I felt like this, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

The old door to the mansion was as loud as you would expect from hinges as rusty as your grandparents. But after taking on such a long trip to reach the abandoned mansion, this was quite comforting, as the path from the bus stop to here had been eerily quiet already. “Wow,” you muttered, looking around the grand entrance. You could imagine what kind of people must have come by back in the days when this mansion was still in use.

Even though everything was covered in dust and plants that had broken through the windows, you still admired the great chandelier above you, and the grand piano standing in one corner of the room. Ruins, yet, memories of the greatness of the Komaeda family, who once reigned all the lands around this mansion, before the Great Despair took over the world.

By now, life was much easier again, world leaders settling their disputes, cities being rebuild. Only ruins like this one remained as a reminder of the time, and you were here to discover them. Traveling was a luxury, but you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to learn more about the history around you, curiosity always having been one of your vices. Thus, you came. A fateful decision.

You were careful as you entered through the first door, into what seemed to be the dining room. Wooden planks squeaked under your weight, but you still felt safe to continue. Excitedly, you took in the still decorated table, the huge, rotting paintings on the walls. Of course, you were not going to touch anything that looked moldy from all the years exposed to air and wetness, but looking wouldn’t hurt. It only spurred you on to see more, and so you went back into the main hall, and up the stairs, holding on to the handrail just in case a step was going to give away underneath you.

As you reached the top of the staircase, you immediately went stiff. Looking from side to side you tried to make out the sudden sound lingering in the air, something you hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t a creak, or even the singing of a bird, no. It sounded more tender, like a composed piece of music. Curiosity got the better of you, as you followed its sound, trying not to be audible yourself. The last thing you wanted was to meet some kind of vagabond and have him attack you.

Cautiously, you peeked through the gap in a door, seeing nothing and no one moving in the room as you decided to enter. The door was tough to open, old carpet stuck beneath it, so you only managed a gap big enough to squeeze through. Immediately, your eyes caught on the source of music, an old music box standing in the middle of the room, on top of what must have been a coffee table back in the days.

You approached it with great curiosity, opening the lid gently, a little afraid it might break if you handled it too roughly. It wasn’t very special, no ballerina pop-up came out, just the old gears turning to create the music, but you were still fascinated by it nonetheless.

Worse was the scare as a sudden loud bang behind you made you drop the box, and you twirled around to stare at the door, holding your breath. Despite you never open the door very wide, it shouldn’t have been able to fall close so harshly, considering it was still stuck from the carpet beneath it. You scrambled to put the fallen box back on the table, wanting nothing more than to leave. But when you tried to push the door open, it wouldn’t budge under your tries to make it move.

“Do you like it?” you heard, making you flinch so hard, you threw yourself with your back against the wood of the door. “W-Who...?” you asked, unable to make anyone out from turning your head from side to side. “Me,” the voice chuckled, and you squinted your eyes as you made out some fog building up behind the coffee table. It slowly formed itself into a shape, a ghostly hand brushing over the music box. As if prompted by the touch, it started playing again, and the fog kept wandering, settling down into a chair in the corner.

From the hand, an arm appeared, then a body. From its neck, a head rose and down to the knees, you made out a mostly human shape. Just... it stopped after the kneecaps, disappearing into nothingness. A thousand thoughts ran through your mind, as you tried to understand, but really, you had no idea what you were really seeing. It must have been a ghost, but did you even believe in those?

“It was my favorite. I’d always listen to it before going to bed when I was still a young boy.”

His eyes moved from the music box, still playing leisurely in its place, to you, and you felt the air grew colder around you. “How about you? Do you like it?”

Maybe you were going insane. Perhaps you hit your head or something, but nonetheless, you nodded, and he smiled happily. “A-Are you...?” you tried to ask, but there were too many questions to decide which one to go for first. “Hm? Oh, yeah.”

Standing up, you were able to witness the form in its full glory, though he probably wasn’t that much taller than you, especially not with his missing underlegs. When he patted his chest, a cloud of fog, or maybe simply dust, came from him, his hand briefly disappearing before reshaping and coming back into view. “I’m sorry to scare you, it just has been a while that someone came over to talk. I am Nagito,” he introduced himself, and you really believed it had been a while he met someone, considering his... condition.

“I’m [Name],” you replied sheepishly, taking some time to look around the room. Perhaps, jumping out of a window would be an option if you couldn’t find a way out. After all, you still weren’t sure what to make out of the ghost in front of you. “What brought you here?” he asked, his movements nothing less than gliding as he walked around the table.

“Oh, just... exploring. The- The family who lived here was quite influential in the times of the--”

“--Great Despair, ah, yes. What a time to be alive,” he finished your sentence, letting out a fond sigh as he remembered. You used the time to move along the windows, creating some distance between you two, while you also trying to figure out if one of them would open.

“So you... were there when it happened?”

“There? Oh, I was part of it!” he announced, and you halted, furrowing your brows. Lowering your hand from the last window handle, you looked him straight into his slightly milky eyes. “You were? So you are a Komaeda too?”

“Oh, definitely,” he laughed. “It was so much fun! I helped my family to understand the joy of it when Junko started her rise.”

This time, it was him taking a few glides back, settling down on the old bed, with sheets corroded by moths. He patted the space next to him, and you were hesitant to follow his invite, but at the same time, intrigued by the knowledge he must have. “I’ll gladly tell you about it if you want.”

Maybe you were just dreaming this all, but you wanted to know what he had to say, so you approached, sitting down furthest from him.

With a pleased hum, he started his tale. Hadn’t you researched so much about the Great Despair before, you would have been shocked by all the gruesome details he didn’t spare you. Nagito spoke fondly of the time that was nothing more than history to you now, but at the same time, the most awful tragedy in all of mankind's story. He shared new insights, stories that were lost in between the flames and war, things you would have never been able to research on your own. You soaked in the knowledge he had, time passing as you two were caught in conversation.

Only when you started to rub your eyes, did you avert your attention for a second, looking back to the windows, noticing how the sun was going down behind the tree crowns of the forest surrounding you. “[Name]?” he asked, confused by your sudden lack of attention. “Ah, sorry!” you were quick to apologize to him, and he forgave you with a smile. “It’s just...”

With another glance over your shoulders, you hesitantly got up, walking backwards to the door again. “It’s so late, I really should go.”

As you tried to open the door again, you found it as shut as it was before, even when you pushed with both hands it still didn’t budge. As if something was forcing it shut despite your best efforts. Panic rose as you realized your chances to leave slimmed down significantly, bad throughs sprouting in your mind. “Go where?” he asked innocently enough, for the first time standing right beside you, the fog feeling incredibly cold as it touched your hand.

“I was just getting to the good parts of the story...”

“I know!” you were quick to calm him as he seemed distraught by your sudden need to leave. “And I’ll be back, but I can’t miss the last bus!”

Again, you put all your strength into opening the door, jiggling the doorknob roughly in hopes it would loosen up. “What if I don’t want to let you go?” he mumbled next to you, and you peaked up at that, worried. Nagito surely was an enigma, less human than you wanted him to be. And his concerning state of life that you had worried about before now felt more prominent than ever.

“Talking to you... sharing a good laugh, oh, I missed that.”

“And you will have it again, I promise to be back, just trust me!” you were quick to retaliate, remembering there was one last window you hadn’t tried to open yet. Scooting over to it, you tried to ban the bad thoughts of having to jump out of the second floor, but it was better than to starve to death here, where no one would find you.

“Where are you going?” he called after you, following your every step. Needily, he tried to touch you, but every touch went right through your body, leaving only an icy sensation behind that made you more uncomfortable. “Listen... I just want to go home tonight. I loved your stories, but I am still human, I need to go and sleep... eat. You remember that, right?”

Leaning against the window, you were surprised he didn’t just slide through that too, but his gaze was none of understanding, frustrating you. Letting out a deep sigh, you calmed yourself, knowing anger wouldn’t get you anywhere. He was just lonely, a little desperate maybe. You came here of your own free will, it was only natural that he might expect you to help him with his... ghostly problem.

“Please,” you whispered, looking directly at him. “I swear on my life, I’ll be back and help you move on. I will listen to all the stories you have and we’ll find a way, okay?”

“Move on?” he mumbled, lost in thought for a second. “I don’t want to move on.”

By now, your knuckles were turning white as you held on tight to the window handle. If you had to jump out, it better had to be timed well, but you knew it was time to take action and not just stand around and argue with him. “Okay... you leave me no choice.” He raised an eyebrow when you suddenly moved to open the window, ready to throw yourself out and be gone in a matter of seconds.

But the window never opened.

Instead, you heard Nagito laugh. He increasingly got louder and more sickening as he kept on laughing to his heart’s content. “Despairingly, isn’t it?” he asked in between his chuckles, and the glare you shot him only amused him more. “I love this.” His hand brushed briefly over your cheek, immediately turning your skin cold with his touch before he waltzed back to the bed, patting the space next to him as an invitation to join him.

“It’s been centuries since I felt like this, I’m not letting you go that easily.”

You knew he meant it. If you wanted any chances of ever leaving again, you would have to oblige, even though, deep down, you agreed. It really was a situation to despair over.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Feel free to request from the Supernatural Prompts too!

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recollins · 5 years ago

Text

Baby Fever (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Request: Do u mind doing a fic where people from the team sees Spencer shopping for baby items (clothes, toys, etc) during different days and one time sees him shopping with his secret gf that they didnt know about and immediately jump to conclusions thinking they’re having a baby but in reality the reader’s sister is the one thats pregnant hahaha thanks and i love your stories! Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader Words: 4,930 Content: 100% pure fluff Warnings: None Masterlist

The headache you’d had all day just refused to go away. It would’ve been tolerable if you could’ve at least gone home at five, like planned. All day you’d been looking forward to dinner with Spencer, and of course your boss had practically forced you to stay late tonight to finish your reports early. Sure, it’d look great for your team, but at this point all you wanted was to eat reheated pizza in your pajamas with your adorable boyfriend while you binged Dr. Who until 1am again.

Was that really too much to ask?

When you got a new text from Spencer saying he’d just reached the store, you instantly dropped what you were doing and, after a quick look around to make sure your boss wasn’t nearby, you hit call.

“I have no idea what would be beneficial for Ashley,” Spencer told you the moment he answered. You could hear him rifling through books on the other end of the phone. You couldn’t help but grin hearing him practically fretting; he was taking his unofficially official assignment seriously.

“She’s a lot like you. She likes learning as much as she can. ,” you told him, smiling at your own words. It was another reason you were dying for them to meet.

The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months, but you’d fallen hard for the handsome genius and you wanted to show your sister exactly why you were so thankful you’d babysat for her that day. It was all thanks to her that you’d had your chance encounter with Spencer; without her, you never would’ve met.

You hadn’t even noticed the little boy running across the park until the dog at your side paused to watch him. As soon as he noticed the boy was headed for the two of you he gave an excited jump, scrambling forward to greet his visitor.

“Sit, Buck,” you told the golden retriever pulling at the leash. Your sister’s dog looked back at you, giving one of the most human pouts you’d ever seen, though he reluctantly plopped onto the grass.

The little boy paused a few feet of way, clearly having enormous difficulty not immediately hugging the dog he was after. He looked up at you with a pleading gaze, blinking his large blue eyes as he asked hopefully,

“Can I PLEASE pet your doggy?”

With a grin – glad to see he knew how to act with a stranger’s dog – you nodded and knelt down beside the dog ready to burst with excitement. “You sure can. He loves making new friends.”

The little boy gasped with excitement and eagerly moved closer, holding out his hand. Buck squirmed forward and bumped his head into the little boys palm, and all hesitancy was out the window. The boy laughed and threw his arms around Buck, and the golden retriever instantly began licking him, wagging so hard he nearly knocked himself over.

“I’m Henry,” the little boy announced to you, eagerly petting as much of the dog as he could reach.

“Hi Henry. I’m Y/N, and this is Buck,”

“Hi Buck!” he laughed, nearly falling over as the dog reacted to his name with even more wiggles. Laughing yourself, you reached out and gently steadied Henry just as a new person came rushing your small group.

“Henry!” the man called out, and the little boy glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve told you not to run off like that!”

Instantly you were lost to studying the piece of art that had just graced you with his presence. He was tall, slim, and scruffy, a mess of chocolate curls framing his sharp jaw line and even sharper cheekbones. A light dusting of stubble framed his soft, pink lips and drew you even further into his hauntingly beautiful face.

“Uncle Spencer look! I made a friend!”

The man – Spencer – came up to Henry’s side and knelt down, keeping himself angled away from Buck as he studied the little boy, checking to make sure he was alright.

“Buck’s really friendly,” you felt the need to tell him, instantly recognizing he was very protective of the little boy. “I hope it’s alright that he pets him, I didn’t have it in me to keep them apart.”

Spencer’s face finally seemed to relax as he watched Henry and Buck together. “It’s alright. I’m sorry if we’re interfering with your day.”

“No, no. Not at all. This is a happy little pitstop on our way home,” you assured. You’d been watching Buck practically lick Henry to death, but when you glanced up at Spencer you saw he’d been watching you. Your gaze met for the first time and blinked in surprise, taken off-guard by the gorgeous caramel eyes staring into you.

Upon meeting your gaze his cheeks flushed beneath the scruff of his beard and he stammered out a quick, “t-that’s – that’s good. I’m glad.”

Normally you were shy and awkward around guys as gorgeous as Spencer, but today you felt emboldened. Maybe it was the crisp autumn wind that settled your nerves as you took a breath, or maybe it was the way his stunning gaze could hardly stay off of you. Either way, you gave him a soft smile and said,

“If it’s okay with you, I’m sure Buck would love having company around the rest of the park.”

Henry’s big blue eyes stretched impossibly wide and he tipped his head back. “Can we PLEASE walk with them, Uncle Spencer? PLEASE?!”

Spencer let out a laugh, and instantly you were lost to the gorgeous man in front of you. He pretended to think it over, though you caught the knowing smile he gave you over Henry’s head.

“Well, as long as Buck doesn’t mind.”

As if on cue, Buck gave an excited yip and licked Henry’s cheek. The three of you laughed and you all stood; Henry and Buck ran ahead, bumping into each other as they went. Spencer fell into step beside you and asked,

“I’m sorry. I know your dog’s name, but I never asked yours.”

You grinned and laughed, “that’s usually how it works, honestly. I’m Y/N. And I believe you’re Uncle Spencer?”

“Just Spencer,” he chuckled, smiling down at you bright enough to take your breath away. “It’s really nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Spencer prompted, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm?”

He chuckled, knowing your habit of losing yourself in your own mind every now and then. “I asked if you think she’d like a book about methods of childbirth. I’ve already read about half of it, it seems very informative.”

You snorted, instantly picturing your boyfriend in the heart of Barnes and Noble, speed-reading pregnancy books to find the best one. “I think she would. Maybe get a few for like, the baby’s first year, if they have it. To give her some variety, you know?” Spencer hmm’d but didn’t answer. “Spence, quit reading the book.”

“Sorry, this is fascinating. I read all about labor and delivery when JJ was pregnant with Henry, but I’d never explored home birthing in this depth. Did you know that on average, a woman’s –“

“Hold that possibly unnerving thought,” you giggled quietly, hearing the door of your boss’s office open. “I’ve gotta go. I trust your book-buying judgement, since you’re the expert in that field. Get whatever you think she’ll like.”

“Okay. I’ll come over when you get home and show you what I’ve got. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

“Sounds good, baby. See you soon.”

David Rossi wasn’t one to frequent Barnes and Noble at nearly 8pm on a Friday night. Truth be told, he was only stopping in to check how well his books had been selling locally. He’d personally brought in a box of his latest release, and so what if he wanted a little ego boost?

He’d wandered to the back of the store, going straight for the True Crime section, when an all-too-familiar voice caught his attention.

“Okay. I’ll come over when you get home and show you what I’ve got. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

Rossi did a full stop, slowly backing up to the aisle he’d just passed. Sure enough, Reid was standing in the middle of the Parenting & Family section, two maternity books tucked under his arm as he read through a third.

As he hung up the phone, Rossi watched him furrow his brow, lost in deep thought as he plucked another book off the shelf. As Rossi slowly approached, he caught the title of the new book he’d grabbed: The New Father: A Dad’s Guide to the First Year.

“Uh, Spencer?”

Reid froze, whipping around so fast he nearly fell, dropping the book in his hand. His wide, stricken gaze locked onto Rossi and for several moments neither of them spoke. Slowly, Rossi knelt and grabbed the book, holding it out to him. Just as slow, Reid took it and tucked it to his chest.

“I… didn’t know you came to Barnes and Noble,” was all he managed. Rossi raised his brows and said pointedly,

“Though I’m sure you practically live here, I wasn’t expecting you to be in this section.” Reid gave a pained blink. “Is there… something you’d like to tell me?”

“What?” he barked out, giving a nervous laugh. “W-what? No. No, there – there’s nothing to – no.”

“Right,” Rossi drawled, eyeing the very panicked young man as he slowly backed out of the aisle, pointing to his left. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s – I’m gonna – I’m gonna go.”

The moment Rossi was out of his way, Reid took off out of the aisle, all but sprinting to the front to check out. The moment he was out of earshot, Rossi was dialing the first number he could think of.

“This is Hotchner –“

“Aaron. You’re never going to believe this.”

Hotch strolled a few paces behind Jack, smiling as he watched his son scamper up and down the toy aisle, hunting for the perfect prize. He’d just gotten recognized as the top student in his class and he’d wanted to reward Jack for all his hard work.

He wasn’t surprised his son was taking his toy-picking very seriously. Jack was so much like himself in that way; he’d even asked Hotch for his professional opinion twice.

“I think I do want the lightsaber,” Jack huffed, setting down the Captain America figure he’d been on the fence about. His son glanced back at him and Hotch put on his most serious face, nodding intently.

“You can never have too many lightsabers. Do you want to look at it again?”

Jack nodded eagerly and took off for the other aisle. As tedious as toy shopping could be, he loved every moment of simple fun like this he got to spend with his son. As he got closer to the aisle Jack was in, a voice he hadn’t been expecting drifted towards him.

“Lamaze toys like this one are excellent to use during tummy time. That’s very important in a baby’s development.”

Was that Reid? Talking about baby toys? Hotch’s mind instantly went to the discussion he and Rossi had been having the last few weeks. He’d found it hard to believe Spencer Reid was buying baby books, and had thought it was just a misunderstanding…

“It’s never too early to start encouraging the development of motor skills, either. This one would certainly help… it DOES rattle, which I admit could become aggravating hearing it days on end… oh! Have you already gotten a playmat? This one is meant to adapt with the child as they grow…”

Hotch had to see this to believe it. One eye on Jack, he backed up to the end of the aisle and peeked around. Sure enough, Reid was parked in front of the baby toys, several piled in the cart at his side as he studied a surprisingly large box. He had a phone perched on his shoulder and a huge smile he hadn’t seen in quite some time.

“If you don’t like this one, we can always take it back. I think it’ll be very beneficial for the baby,” Reid declared, setting the box in the cart. As he looked up and met Hotch’s eye, he nearly dropped his phone. “I – I’ve got to go. I – yes, I’m fine. I’ll call you later.”

He hung up fast and opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a noise of distress.

“Reid… what are you doing?”

“I – I’m shopping.”

Hotch gave him an unamused frown. “I gathered as much. I meant what are you –“

“Dad, hey dad!” Jack called from behind him, and on instinct Hotch looked back to his son. “Look at this lightsaber!”

“That’s really cool, buddy,” Hotch smiled quickly as he turned back to Reid. “What are you –“

All Hotch saw was Reid skidding out of sight at the other end of the aisle, converse squeaking in his wake.

“Okay, what about this?”

Emily held up a box as Penelope and Morgan turned to study what she’d found. Penelope hmm’d and tapped her chin but Morgan instantly shook his head.

“A revolving tie rack? That’s as tacky as you get, Prentiss.”

“What? No way! The man has a lot of ties –“

“And he also lives in a mansion,” Morgan cut in with a snort. “I don’t think he has a problem findin’ a place to put ‘em.”

With a groan, Emily tossed the box back onto the shelf and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “Why is Rossi so impossible to buy for?”

“Why are you two so bad at picking out gifts?” Penelope countered, and the two of them rounded on her. “What?!”

“You haven’t found him anything either,” Morgan pointed out, and Penelope planted her hands on her hips, fixing him with a pointed look.

“I’m not the hot-shot profiler here. I brought you two so you could use your mind-reading powers to figure out what he’d like. If I wanted to wander around Bed Bath & Beyond for an hour with nothing to show for it I would’ve just gone by myself!”

Morgan scoffed, clearly affronted. “Well it ain’t my fault you two nixed the golf bag organizer –“

“Does Rossi even golf?!” Emily snapped at him as the three started for another section of the store. As Morgan went to answer, Penelope cut into their argument with a very surprised,

“Is that Reid?”

The other two paused and followed her line of sight to the unmistakable curly-haired doctor standing in the family section, observing a stroller with a beautiful woman at his side. He was studying it intently, and the woman was watching him with pure affection.

The three of them shared a wordless, gaping stare before they started towards the two of them.

“I’m not sure. This isn’t one of the brands I researched.”

The woman shrugged and offered, “no, but it had decent reviews, and it’s less than the others with the coupon I’ve got. I can get this one right out and not have to put it on my credit card.”

“Sweetheart, I told you I’d get this. Price doesn’t matter. I want to get the best.”

Penelope and Emily looked at each other, mouthing together sweetheart!?

“No, absolutely not,” the woman objected, crossing her arms and giving Reid a frown. He went to argue and she pointed out, “You’ve bought everything else so far. I’m getting this one.”

“Let’s at least look at the other one I saw online,” he offered. “I feel more comfortable with a brand I’m familiar with.”

The woman gave him a sweet smile, giving his arm a squeeze. “Fine. Let me go find that one. I’ll be right back.”

As she slipped down an aisle, Reid turned back to observing the stroller. As he moved around it to look at the front, he caught the movement of the others approaching and looked up. He locked eyes with Morgan and just stared at the three of them as he said in total disbelief,

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Rossi and Hotch said you had a little baby fever goin’ on but I didn’t believe ‘em,” Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. “Good of you to prove me wrong on that, pretty boy.”

“I certainly don’t have baby fever –“

“A stroller is a pretty interesting thing to buy if you don’t,” Emily pointed out; Reid’s cheeks turned a bright pink.

“It’s not – this isn’t what it looks like –“

“I for one am personally and completely offended that you clearly have something huge you haven’t told any of us,” Penelope cut in haughtily. Reid turned to her now, trying desperately to explain,

“You guys, really, I’m not –“

“Hey, Spencer?” the woman called from further down the aisle. “Can you help me grab this?”

Reid made to head towards her and the three of them followed. He jammed a finger at the group and shook his head. “No. No, we’re not doing this right now –“

“Oh, we’re doin’ this. It’s happenin’,” Morgan assured, actually rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “I’m ready to meet your baby mama.”

“What?!” Reid actually squeaked, eyes widening. “No! She’s – she’s not –“

“Baby?” she called again. Reid’s face was almost more red than his sweater.

“Yeah, I – I’m coming. Hold on.” To the other three, he practically begged, “just – just stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Morgan, Emily, and Penelope shared bemused looks, but they stayed put as Reid scrambled to rush after the woman. Emily was the first to whisper,

“Did you have any idea he was even dating?”

Morgan shook his head, small smile on my face. “Nah. I mean, I knew somethin’ was up. Kid’s been a lot happier the last few months. But I didn’t know he had a lady.”

“Or a baby on the way,” Penelope hissed, looking genuinely hurt. “I can’t believe he’d hide a girlfriend and a pregnancy from us!”

“I mean, it’s his life, Garcia,” Emily soothed, resting a hand on her friend’s arm. “We know Reid’s more reserved, and this is probably a big change for him. Keeping it quiet is probably easier for him right now.”

“I know, I just – I like to spoil. I want to buy cute baby things and dote on his pregnant girlfriend!” she whined. As Penelope and Emily went back and forth, Morgan kept his eyes on the aisle Reid had disappeared down. He didn’t hear either of them talking, let alone any noises from the aisle. Slowly, he started to creep forward.

“He told us to wait,” Emily began, and Morgan waved her off.

“I just wanna see…” he muttered as he leaned around the corner.

The aisle was empty. He spun to tell the other two just as he caught sight of Reid across the store, rushing out the door with the woman in tow. Both of them were giggling, looking pleased they’d given the others the slip.

“Alright, pretty boy,” Morgan chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “That was pretty slick. I’ll give you that.”

Spencer’s hand held yours tight as the two of you strolled through Target, headed for the children’s section. Your sister’s baby shower was that weekend, and you wanted to get just a few more things for her.

With her husband deployed overseas, you’d taken it upon yourself to make sure she’d had everything she needed when your niece arrived in just a few short weeks. Spencer, you were more than happy to say, was completely on board.

Honestly, he was almost more invested than you were with everything. He’d spent weeks researching the best stroller to get, and last weekend the two of you had spent your entire Saturday helping her assemble the crib and dresser she’d bought. Your sister absolutely loved him, and you had to admit you were already starting to feel the same way.

Maybe it was too soon to love Spencer, but how could you not? He’d been spending the little free time he had away from work with you, helping you take care of your sister like she was family to him.

“Does she have a winter jacket?” Spencer asked you as you reached the baby clothes, eyeing a display of fuzzy pink coats.

“I don’t remember seeing one. It wouldn’t hurt,” you admitted, and that was all Spencer needed to hear. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting go and hurrying off to pick out a coat.

Grinning to yourself, you watched him for a heartbeat before you turned to scour the racks of adorable onesies up ahead. Shopping for your niece was always a fun time with Spencer that left you feeling happier than you ever remembered being. Hell, even last week’s adventure at Bed Bath & Beyond had been amusing.

He’d practically scooped you up in his arms as he ran down the aisle you’d been in, whispering desperately that some of his team had shown up and the two of you had to make a quick escape. He’d felt terrible, sneaking you out like he did, but you understood. He’d told you when you first started dating that he wanted to wait a bit before introducing you to his team.

Well, more accurately, his family. It was a big step for him, he’d explained, and it wasn’t something he wanted to rush. Plus, apparently his team could be a little overbearing, and he’d wanted to spare you from their unyielding curiosity for the time being. You’d both agreed that you’d wait until after the baby shower so at least your family chaos could settle before he tossed you into his own.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the other woman browsing the racks until you bumped into her. Both of you made noises of surprise and you instantly reached out to steady her.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention,” you said quickly, and she gave you a warm smile, shaking her head.

“Oh no, that was all me. I never look where I’m going.”

“Sounds like we’re both a little clumsy,” you laughed, and took in the handful of clothes she had. “Oh, you’ve got a little boy?”

“Two of them, actually,” she confirmed. “My youngest is just a couple months old.”

She pointed across the baby section to a tall, dark-haired man rocking an adorable baby in his arms. “That’s my husband and my youngest. My other son is –“

The little blonde boy from the park poked his head around one of the racks and you stared at him in surprise. His big blue eyes locked onto you, and recognition lit up his gaze.

“Oh, hi Henry!” The woman looked positively alarmed that you knew her son’s name, and more so that he recognized you in return

“Hi!” he said excitedly, rushing forward and looking around. “Is Buck here? Momma, she has a dog named Buck!”

“The big yellow dog from the park,” the woman said slowly, and as she knelt and scooped her son up, the memory of that day hit you full-force. You knew exactly who this was. Petite blonde with a husband and two kid, Henry… that must mean…

“You’re JJ,” you said, just as surprised as she looked. The woman was on guard; of course she was. She worked for the FBI and you’d just greeted her son and told her you knew her name.

“I’m sorry, do we know you?” JJ asked cautiously, and you gave her an apologetic smile.

“No, um, not really. I’m so sorry, this is so rude of me. My name’s –“

“Y/N!” All three of you turned to stare at the man who’d just come around the corner. He was still looking down at the shirt in his hand – pink jacket tucked under his arm – and hadn’t noticed the situation. “What do you think of this one?”

He held up the shirt that said I Found My Prince and His Name is Daddy just as he looked up at you. The smile froze on his face as soon as he saw the woman at your side.

“Hi Uncle Spencer!” Henry chirped excitedly. Spencer’s face turned an instant shade of bright red as he quickly hid the shirt. JJ slowly looked between you and Spencer, her eyes widening with each pass.

“Uh, Spence? I need an explanation here,” she said, voice tight with disbelief. “I seriously thought everyone else was just joking about this but – but are you two – are you having –“

You and Spencer looked at each other in alarm and instantly you shook your head quickly. “No! Oh, no. We’re – I’m not – no.”

Spencer came up to your side, still blushing furiously as he told her quickly, “JJ, this is my girlfriend Y/N. We’re shopping for her sister’s baby shower.”

“I’m not pregnant,” you felt the need to add just for good measure. JJ slowly gave a nod, still looking completely caught off guard, so you offered up a meek, “um, it’s really nice to meet you.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you were dating someone?” JJ asked him, sounding hurt. Spencer had told you JJ was his best friend, and you’d warned him she wouldn’t be happy he was hiding this side of him from her.

Spencer sighed heavily as he mumbled, “I just wanted some time to let everything settle. Y/N and I met unexpectedly and we were both caught off guard. We’ve been planning the baby shower and with everything else going on, I just wanted to wait a bit before introducing everyone.”

JJ pressed her lips together, but you could tell she wasn’t holding being upset. She just reached out and squeezed his arm. “I get it. Next time, though, you might want to be a little more up front with everyone. The rest of the team is convinced you’re having a baby with a mysterious stranger.”

Both you and Spencer giggled at that, and he gave you a sheepish smile. “Y/N warned me I was being a little too suspicious –“

“You practically carried me out of the store last week. Spencer. That’s more than a little suspicious.”

You and JJ laughed together as Spencer sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Please don’t tell everyone just yet,” he began. “I really did want to introduce you all properly in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s not really an option,” JJ sighed, giving him an apologetic smile. When Spencer went to argue, she added, “trust me, Spence. You’re gonna want me to stop Garcia. She’s still trying to decide between throwing you a surprise baby shower or strangling you in your sleep, and I wouldn’t put it past her to pull off both.”

Spencer actually grimaced and you just gave a laugh, shaking your head as an idea came to mind. You looked up at Spencer and offered, “What about this… my sister would love having more people around, and we’ve got plenty of room and food for a bigger crowd. Your team could come to the baby shower this weekend and we’ll settle all of this at once.”

Spencer smiled down at you in thankful surprise. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. My sister would love to meet everyone, and,” you added, giving a smile to Henry. “Buck would love to see his new friend again.”

Henry gave an excited gasp and turned to JJ. “Can we please go see Buck, momma?!”

JJ smiled between the two of you and gave a shrug.

“Count us in. Just between us, though, I’d call Garcia tonight and tell her before she really does make a move. I can’t guarantee what way she’ll swing, but you know she doesn’t like being kept in the dark about family matters.”

Spencer chuckled, nodding in agreement. His arm came around you as you two said goodbye to JJ and Henry – giving a wave towards Will – and you both waited until you watched them head down an aisle.

“I’m so sorry to spring that on you,” Spencer said immediately. “It was really great of you to invite the team, but I don’t want to put you out –“

“You’re not putting me out, baby,” you promised, turning in his hold to wrap your arms around his waist and pull him closer. “I really want to meet your team, and this is the perfect opportunity. Besides…” you tugged the cute shirt out of his hand and held it up, getting the blush back on his cheeks. “You’ve apparently convinced them all I’m pregnant so we need to set the story straight somehow.”

Spencer sighed, though a smile played over his lips as he hugged you to him, starting to lead you back the way he’d come from. “Come on. There were other clothes I wanted to show you. Does she need snow pants? She really shouldn’t be out in the cold that long, but if she is she should be protected…”

You listened to your boyfriend launch into statistics about children and cold weather as you let him drag you around the kids section. Both your arms were full of clothes by the end of the night, and at this point your sister wouldn’t have room in her house for all the things the two of you had bought.

It was the least you could do, though. You owed your sister the world, because thanks to her (and Buck), you’d found yours in Spencer Reid.

#Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x female reader #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid #Criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #Spencer Reid self insert #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fanfiction #fluff #cute #requests #rea writes

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persephones-bde · 4 years ago

Note

Hihihi, is me :D. I present thee a prompt. So, any ship you wishhh. Person A meets the monster under their bed/in their closet, and Person B so happens to be this monster.

NATNAT!!! Hi my darling dear, I hope this suffices for your taste 💚

MARYA/HELENE

WC: 1252 words

This isn't stellar, but I loved this opportunity to be creative and explore some weird and funky world given I am really textbook with mine sjbsns so thank you nat!

*Warning: if you are someone who gets very paranoid, I advise reading with high caution*

Marya had, in her eyes, been an adult since she was ten years old. She'd done chores well before that- probably since she'd been old enough to know how to spell she'd been old enough to fold laundry. Marya had never known a childhood; she recalled the years of what they were supposed to be, but they were moreso overrun by obligations and babysitting than playing tag in the Park. It never bothered her because the words echoed in her ears every time someone commented on a TV show she had never seen. Marya recalled her father's hand on her shoulder while friends she'd loosely made played on the slide, "When you are older, Mar, you will be the one with a great job and à home that you love,"

At twenty-seven years old, she could not say the old man was wrong in the former. She wouldn't have said in the latter either. Until she began seeing the scratches, of course.

Scratches that dug into hardwood and that tore up furniture she hadnt even needed to buy and paint off the walls. "You know, I wouldn't have bought this house if the Real Estate Agent mentioned vandalism!" She shouted more out to the universe than anyone in particular, and she swore she heard it laughing back. Her parents may have taught her to cook, clean, file taxes-but they had never once taught her how to deal with what may as well have been a demon possessing her home.

Marya thought maybe she'd get used to it; for as well paying as her job was, drawing on money she didn't have to sell a home destroyed wasn't going to fare well. She didn't have that kind of wealth ready to throw around before she even reached the age of thirty. Doors were unlocked that had been checking multiple times, doors would slam, the list continued. Marya prétended it was a quirk more for her sanity than anything. Locks could be flimsy, couldn't they? Locks, however, did not explain the growling that came from her closet at night. She could not explain the soft glow that came through the shutters of her closet door. It did not explain the sound of nails scraping on wood. It did not explain her doorknob jingling in the middle of the night followed by inhuman roars. Marya had to pretend they didn't keep her up at night.

Marya did not have much of a childhood, but she did remember her peers words at that age. Kids crying over monsters under their bed always said if you pretended not to hear them they'd get bored. Marya never believed in monsters or demons. Maybe she never had the chance to open that door of creativity-maybe it was the isolation. Isolation. Being à little paranoid. All normal, adult things right?

But normal, adult things did not include the sound of loud, ferocious snarling followed by a bang on the closet door so loud she heard the door threaten to come off its hinges. But even when she was young, when children told these stories she'd never understood, they'd never mentioned noises quite like this. She felt à breeze over her shoulders and squeezed her eyes shut.

That night, at 3 in the morning, Marya prayed to God and decided to get new locks.

Marya ended up standing in front of her own door with the pièces to install à deadbolt on her bedroom door, four others already installed around the house.

The first thing Marya did when opening the door though was not a sigh of relief. No, it was a shriek.

"Oh, thank god,"

That was all it took. Marya had always considered herself a fighter. So why her feet were cemented to the floor, gaping as if she were staring à monster straight in the face probably would have been funny at one point. You know, if she were not staring a something straight in the face.

"Wow, you are a loud screamer," The voice was not the roar she expected, nor were they the body of one. "I just wanted to congratulate you, geez," This creature was stated cross legged on her bed, a blank expression on their face. But there was something unnervingly inhuman about them-about the grittiness of their voice-that made Marya consider crying all over again. She looked no older than Marya-a little slimmer and a little shorter if anything.

"Who-what-I-" There were a lot of places she could begin. Fortunately, whatever this being was, seemed like a talker as she leaned back on her elbows and extended her legs, crossing them at the ankles.

"You have taken so long to get new locks, dear," The creature clicked their tongue, almost condescendingly. As if Marya were a child. "Doing this-" She flicked her finger back to the closet Marya hadn't opened in months, "Has started to get taxing,"

"Uh..." The question Marya wanted to ask included a name and an explanation, but it was not what cale out of her mouth. "Why are you out here? Y-you're supposed to be in there,"

"Are you telling me how to do my job?" The creature questioned back with a snarl bare to her teeth. Marya, for as pale as she was naturally, seemed to turn a stark white at the shredders the seemingly Beautiful woman had. "If they saw me, they wouldn't be as afraid," A hand gestured flippantly up and down her body.

"They?" The creature nodded.

"Yeah, the ones that kept breaking in," She explained as if it were obvious, offering a roll of her eyes. The silence was long. "Oh, oh my God, you didn't know?"

"No!"

"Huh, well, lets just say good thing you got those locks,"

"The locks were to keep YOU out!"

"One: offensive," Helene tsked, "Two: you would literally be dead if it weren't for me, so..."

"Right," Marya's tone came out unconvinced, scowling. "You do realize you are a complete stranger in my house, right? You do see how weird this is?"

"Well in that case, my name is Helene. Does that help your nerves at all?"

"No, actually,"

"Well, how can I help then?"

"Explain why on earth youve been screeching while I'm trying to sleep?"

"It's scarier than me talking right now isn't it?" Helene questioned back immediately, eyebrows raised. She didn't get to speak to humans much, but this one had been fascinating. This one had been interesting since the moment she saw her. And seeing her now was all the more alluring; night vision was flattering on no one. "You know that the person living down the street kept breaking in, I thought?"

"No???"

"Ah, well, there's your mistake, dear," Helene patted a spot on the bed for the woman to sit beside her. "They were being creepy at you,"

"You mean towards,"

"Sorry, I don't normally just chat with your kind on a mattress," Helene rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help a small smile as Marya sat beside her. "They were being creepy Towards you, so I just let them know I had your back,"

"I don't know you,"

"So?"

"So why?"

"Because you have nice eyes," The way she spoke it so point blank-with such honesty-took Marya aback. "Maybe I will have to take them," Marya choked, scrambling off the bed with such franticness that she hit the ground hard. "I was kidding," Helene ammended quickly, eyes wide with concern. "About the second part. Your eyes really are stunning, I promise!"

#writing asks #this is like the closest to lighthearted you are all ever going to get from me #ill go back and edit tomorrow

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

Note

Urgh, okay, I have to send in a love letter as well. I was the anon who prompted about the 'emotionally guarded' MC, I too am still not over how beautifully you wrote it. :') It would be fascinating if you mind telling us more about your MC, if you'd like? Do you rp when you play or is it more like a self-insert for you? What's your MC like as a person?

Awww!!! :D I’m so glad it lived up to your expectations fam!

Let’s see... I kinda do a mix of rp and self-insert.

I have two OC’s now. One before the undateables were- well datable, and one after Diavolo was unlocked lol.

My OG MC is named Odessa (they/them) and I love them to bits! (I’ll have to draw them some time or like a picrew)- they have mad heart eyes for Mammon.

I actually downloaded the game after seeing Diavolo, Mammon, and Simone bc I haven't seen an otome game with more than one black character ever and was stoked. Was kinda bummed that Mammon was the only romanceable one at first. Not that I wasn’t gonna romance him! I love the tsundere trope- but I just thought I had more choices)

Though ngl Lucifer is growing on me something hard rn; angsty boy aura and all that.

Back on topic though lol. Odessa is a musician like myself and have/had a job before being yanked into the Devildom. As an only child, they love the chaos of living with the brothers, it’s just new and fresh to them.

Asmo and Levi are their absolute best friends, though they treat all the brothers kinda the same and appreciate spending time with them all equally.

Basically, just a bright chipper person all around, tries to stay calm and get all they can out of this new experience.

My second is Fabian (they/them) and is kinda what I wish I could be/ do in my own life. I also like to explore my own conflicted relationship with the Christian mythos and religion as a whole with this character (pretty much with the whole game too tbh). I have always wanted to be a concept artist and studio musician (one is more attainable to me than the other right now lol) so that’s what they do. But ye- they are self-employed and spend their time outside of the classroom, and brotherly shenanigans working hard on just “making it”. Much more relaxed and sporadic than Odessa. Fabian kinda latches onto Diavolo out of curiosity on his views of Christian and Aberhamic religious philosophy and just his role in it all.

I find the political aspects that Diavolo could portray just really cool lol... also that royal aesthetic.

But anyway, yeh- Dia and them just kinda vibe. They aren’t afraid of him and like to sneak him out of the castle when they know he needs a break. Also, he just seems kinda genuine, and kinda human compared to all the others (I have my own hc of his origins I could go into a whole ted talk on lmaoo)

But ye! That’s all I can think of on the top of my head. Ima be real with ya, I haven’t been playing much anymore bc it is just so hard for me to get good luck on the card drawing and leveling up just to pass levels. But I hop on for the text messages bc they are great!

Thanks so much for askin’!

Do you rp or self insert? I always like reading about other peps play styles and preferences!

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

Text

Career Day (Bit 4)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4

This is where I repeat my warning from Bit Two :D

I’m expecting a little ridiculousness in this down the track. I want to explore a few bits and pieces and this may require the Tracys to do a few things they wouldn’t actually do. But I wanna have fun, so I’m gonna do them anyway :D

Thank you for all your wonderful encouragement with this fic. You’ve all jumped in with far more eagerness than I expected for this little bit of fluff and I have been so spoilt by you all ::hugs you madly:: I’m so glad you’re enjoying it and I hope it lives up to expectations :D

Here’s the next bit. I sat outside and wrote it in the sun in one of the last sunny autumn days of the year. The sun here is definitely shifting to its winter version.

No real warnings beyond the possibilities above. As with all my fics, the later bits get bigger. We have 1368 words in this bit. I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Unfortunately, it was again Mrs Jenkinson who was interrupted by another Tracy tearing through that door.

The whole room stopped and stared at the young teenager who appeared in little more than a pair of hot pink board shorts and a towel.

Anna recognised Gordon Tracy with ease. The boy’s hair was wet and the faint smell of chlorine was introduced to the room.

“Sorry I’m late, Ms Kent.” However, his grin was mischievous as he glanced across the class until his eyes landed on a facepalming Alan. The dark-haired Tracy at the back of the room made his way politely towards Gordon and with an apologetic nod at Anna, dragged the protesting athlete to the back of the room.

The words ‘What are you doing here?’, followed by ‘Are you kidding? I couldn’t miss this!’, both whispered far too loudly, had Anna wondering whether she should flex her preschool muscles to get the class attention back.

“My apologies for the interruption, ma’am.” The first Tracy nodded to Anna and then to Mrs Jenkinson. “Ma’am.”

The pout on Gordon’s face was somewhat spoiled by the grinning wink he shot in Alan’s direction. To Anna’s surprise, Alan returned the grin and sat up straighter.

The elder Tracy was frowning a glare worthy of any parent at the teenager beside him.

“Welcome to the classroom, Mr Tracy.” Her tactic worked as that wet, strawberry blond head turned in her direction. The impish grin reminded her of exactly how much of a challenge the fish Tracy had actually been. A good kid, but one hell of a handful. There had been much communication between the school and Jeff Tracy regarding Gordon Tracy.

The thought of what had happened to the man who had parented these kids broke her heart in that moment.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Mrs Jenkinson. Please continue.”

Anna spent the next ten minutes trying to keep her attention on the retail shop assistant while the ever-energetic Gordon Tracy wriggled at the back the class.

The next parent was almost as much a treat as the Tracys themselves. Tracey Sampson may not have the money of the Tracys but her skill in both the pool and athletics in general was known the world over.

As she stepped to the front of the class, there was a gasp of ‘Oh my god!’ and a scuffle at the back of the class. She glanced over to find Gordon’s eyes staring at Ms Sampson. The elder Tracy had his hand around Gordon’s bicep.

Alan was silently giggling.

Anna found herself clearing her throat to gain the class attention yet again.

Ms Sampson had a small smile on her face and a raised eyebrow. A nod from Anna and she gave an outline of what was required to get into her profession, the Olympics, and sponsorship. Fortunately, Gordon stood staring the entire time, his face the picture of information absorption and not a little idolisation. The rest of the class was almost as equally fascinated and they had a good length of no interruption by any Tracy.

Which was both good and bad as Anna didn’t fail to notice that Alan was still sending worried glances at both the door and the windows.

The eldest Tracy at the back of the room kept fiddling with his collar and mouthing words she couldn’t hear.

The frown on his face was ready to split him down the middle.

He caught her glance at one point and that frown softened in apology. There was definitely something going on.

But Ms Sampson continued uninterrupted and as time moved on Alan’s shoulders dropped just that fraction lower. She found herself caught up in the hidden drama, her own shoulders dropping as Ms Sampson brought her talk to an end after answering numerous questions. As she stepped aside, the gap at the front of the class became very apparent.

Alan’s expression was crestfallen.

The eldest Tracy in the room appeared resigned and took the necessary steps towards the front of the class as Anna sent him a questioning look.

He turned to face the class and straightened his shoulders. “Hi, everyone. I’m Virgil Tracy. My occupation is in engineering, aviation, logistics, explosives and emergency response.”

The class was staring. Everyone knew who Virgil Tracy was.

Pilot of Thunderbird Two.

Anna, of course, knew it all in theory. She had read about the man several times over the last week. Intellectually, she knew Alan was a member of that amazing family, and yes, she was fangirling big time, but it was difficult to match this reserved, worried young man with messy hair, a dirt smudged face, and what appeared to be a permanent frown, with the hero of legend.

At the back of the room, Gordon Tracy had a much more sombre expression on his face, his attention darting between Virgil and Alan. She didn’t neglect to notice that he had managed to edge closer to Ms Sampson, though.

“You’re the pilot of Thunderbird Two?” It was Elvis who broke the tableau.

Virgil nodded down at the eager student who was again bouncing in his seat enough for his desk to edge closer to the front. “Yes, I am.” The class muttered in some amazement at that admission.

Turning back to the class as a whole, Virgil continued. “My main role is equipment specialisation and transportation. I also provide structural analysis and support in those situations that involve collapses of various kinds.”

“Don’t forget your medical qualifications, Virg.” Gordon piped up from the back with a grin on his face.

The flat-eyed stare Virgil sent him was brief but direct. “I’m also a trained paramedic.”

“That is a lot of education, Mr Tracy. How did you become so specialised?” Anna prompted him.

He glanced at her and she was hit with that warm brown gaze. “Uh, lots of training. I have a degree in Engineering from Denver, but I’m a strong believer in life long education.” He turned to the class. “School is only the beginning, guys. It gives you the basics. From there you can build on what you know until you become what you want to be.” He shrugged. “And not everything requires a piece of paper. You want to know something? We are in the age of information. Find out how, or why or what and learn what you want or need to know.”

“Tell us about the Thunderbirds!” It came from a Sam Ellis at the back of the class.

“Thunderbird Two is big and green.” Virgil let out the first smile she had seen on his face since he walked in the room. “Sure, the Thunderbirds are pretty amazing, but they are only machines. I’m thinking what you need to know is what the careers attached to emergency response require.”

“Have you ever flown aboard Thunderbird Three?” This from Alma Jenkinson, her hand waving in the air.

Virgil’s smooth baritone answered calmly. “I have.”

“Who is piloting Thunderbird Three now?”

Virgil froze. Jeff Tracy was the pilot of Thunderbird Three. She moved to stand up, but Virgil straightened where he stood. “We have several pilots capable of handling Three. Whoever is available at the time is responsible for space rescue.”

Alan was frowning at his brother.

Anna was struck with the sudden realisation that Alan may be working to attain such a position. A blink. Five brothers, five Thunderbirds. It was obvious. Well, not so much with Gordon. The kid was far more interested in swimming, but Four was a submarine, wasn’t it? She wondered who was piloting it at the moment.

She frowned slightly at Virgil and idly wondered.

The man ran his hand through his messy hair and opened his mouth to continue only to be cut off by a sudden looming roar. His eyes widened in unmistakeable hope as he turned to the school room windows.

The roar swooped in closer and Anna’s jaw dropped as the famed rocket plane, Thunderbird One, appeared out of nowhere and touched down in the middle of the school’s sports field, VTOL flaring orange against the green turf.

The whole class let out a gasp.

Except for Alan Tracy who simply said, “Yes!”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Alan Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy

56 notes · View notes

nad-zeta · 4 years ago

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Match up (◕‿◕✿)

nAdDy sEnpAi if you’re still doing ikevamp matchups, could you do mine pleaseee 👉🏼👈🏼, school’s been really hectic and i need a pick me up 😔😔 here’s my updated info hehe 😚

I’m a female on the libra-scorpio cusp and a Slytherin, I used to be an ENFP but now I’m an INFP. Appearance-wise, I’m 5'2, i’ve brown eyes and caramel brown hair. I also wear glasses and I’m also quite tanned from being out in the sun all the time.

Personality-wise:

- I can be really enthusiastic about stuff I’m really interested in, such as history (especially world war history), sciences (but physics is trash to me) and anime (I’m a closet nerd hehe) .

- I can be really ambitious and competitive, and I would sometimes place unrealistic expectations on myself, leaving me mentally exhausted and stressed, but like i place these unrealistic measures on myself to strive to be the best

- I do try to chill and take it slow, but you know, sometimes i just can’t 😅

- I’m quite an open book to all my close friends

- I also tend to be really possessive, like I dont like people purposely trying to steal my friends (it happened a lot of times before) and i hate it when someone randomly butts into a conversation i’m having with anyone, especially if it’s a deep conversation

- I can be really awkward around people i don’t click with, but around people i click with, i can be pretty wild and will be able to hold conversations with.

- I tend to procrastinate a lot, and people say i look intimidating but i don’t feel like I’m intimidating.

- I can be really sensitive to other’s emotions and i tend to put others before me, so like my close friend always told me that i’m too much of a giver, like I try to please everyone else and ignore myself

- My love languages are physical touch and quality time

- I can’t stand people who are attention seekers or just aim to be public nuisances as i feel that they’re just really irritating and it gets on my nerves, especially those people who are just doing stupid things to be popular (which is lowkey why i think tiktoks dances are dumb, like seriously i dont get the hype, but i do like tiktok meme videos tho)

- I listen to a lot of different genres of music, but i especially love classics (mozart and chopin are my favourites) and pop.

- I can really insecure at times, because i always feel that every other girl out there is better than me and i’m just a plain and ugly, and partially because i got bullied when i was younger about my appearance

- I like dressing up and putting on makeup occassionally, but i do act like a tomboy most of the time (ie. I hate skirts, like i really dont like them and i have no idea why, but jeans are supreme).

- I also love playing the piano and singing as well, even though i’m not that good at it :D

- People tell me that I’m very curious and persistent, constantly pushing until i get answers, but i do know my limits.

- I’m also very passionate about things I love, and i would do anything to protect people that i care and love.

- I’m also very affectionate and supportive towards my close friends and people i love. - I do have trust issues and I often feel like i do not deserve love and that I hate people who betray my trust.

- I’m ok with pda, but not anything overly affectionate, like hand-holding and kissing is ok, but not making out 😳😖

- I also tend to be pretty forgettful, and i’ll not eat for hours to get my work on hand done (whoop pretty unhealthy but :0)

- I’m also really sarcastic when i want to be, and i can’t hold a poker face to save my life (i swear i always start laughing like 2 seconds in) and I tend to sass people a lot, especially if I’ve had a bad day

- I’m also pretty fiesty and I hate people stereotyping me for my gender (i.e like when someone says that “oh you’re pretty good for a girl”) like what does my gender have to do with my ability? Like there is zero correlation

- My sense of humour is kind of twisted at times but i really love memes and i tend to crack inappropriate jokes sometimes

- I’ve been told that i come across as really flirty to some guys but it’s because i can be really touchy feely to my friends

- I’m also quick to anger, especially if i have a bad day, i hate people who nag and i hate people who put down others

- I’m kind of touch-starved, so i really like hugs and cuddles, but I’m also ticklish so my friends tend to tickle me when hugging me

- I can be a daydreamer at times, like I would get stuck in my own fantasy world when i shouldn’t 😂😂

- I’m also a drama queen around my friends, I dont have a lot of them in real life because of some rumours that others spread, so i only have a close circle of friends i really treasure and would do anything for them

- I also tend to bottle up all my anger and negative thoughts, and would sometimes like explode on others even though I don’t mean to

- Sometimes I don’t really think before I say or act, which is why sometimes I can come off as a bit rude or unfeeling but it’s just me and my impulsiveness

Fun Facts:

- i really love food, especially sweets (dark chocolate and dango is my life)

- i really hate horror movies (I’m usually pretty brave, but horror movies just get to me so much ergh) but i love chick flicks and adventure flims

- I’m also a hopeless romantic, which is why even little romantic gestures can make my heart flutter

- My hobbies are reading, writing and shooting (only air-rifle though)

- I used to be pretty athletic, I still am, but to a lesser extend now, because i injured my left knee playing volleyball in the past. It’s on it’s road to recovery, but it still hurts quite badly when i overexert myself.

- I love artic foxes and cats, dogs are too energetic for me 😅

- I’m also a sneaker hoarder and I love collecting and wearing sneakers hehe, heels are like torture devices for the feet i dont care even if they make me taller

- Coffee over tea anyday, no offense to peoples who like tea, but a fresh cup of brewed coffee is one of the best things in the world 😚

- I’m really terrible at drawing, I’m not gonna kid you. When i was younger, my art teacher threatened to fail me because im really terrible at drawing. 😂

- I’m also very injury-prone and a bit clumsy, which caused me to have bruises occasionally

- I’m kinda bad and math and physics, but like if you take your time to explain to me then I’ll understand a bit more lol, my best subject is like chemistry

- my ideal date would just be cuddling with my boyfriend, and either watching a movie together or bookshop date hehe

uwu i would be super grateful and happy if you did my matchup uwu thank you sm sending you all my love and hugs and cuddles 🥰💖💕

Hi hi, lia! ❤I’m so happy ya requested! 😆Hehe, I hope you enjoy it love, and I hope this cheers ya up! Love ya lots, and I hope you enjoy it! ❤😊

So I match you with……………. Isaac

Oh, the first time Isaac spotted you in the dining room, introducing yourself to everyone, he was paralyzed with fear. You quite possibly looked more intimidating than anyone he has ever met in his whole entire life, and that’s saying a lot considering you were standing right next to his pure blooded vampire, sire. Comte spotted Isaac hiding behind the doorway of the dining room, peaking in to catch a glimpse of their new guest. You instantly turned around when you heard the blond vampire beckon, someone closer, whose name you know all too well. He had been the cause of endless amounts of math and science homework over the years.

Your eyes locked with his for a split second, but moments after you met his rosy eyes he darted them to the ground. “I-s-saac Newton, n-nice to meet you.” You gave him a shy smile and took his outstretched hand and shook it, before you could even say a word, Arthur budded in and interrupted. An action which caused you to feel slightly irritated, Isaac looked up at your face and saw that you were starting to become awkward with being the centre of attention. The two of you still held hands when the physicist decided to pull you into the kitchen with him to give you a moment of peace. You smiled when he is a very soft meek voice confessed that he didn’t really like crowds or loud people, a little fact that the two of you bonded over. And before you knew it, you and Isaac were now sitting in the kitchen chatting away in a deep conversation about your mutual dislike of overcrowded places, bullies and plain old public nuisances.

The next day you decided to curiously explore the mansion. You came across a great big library, and you felt as excited as a kid on Christmas day. They had every and any book you could possibly wish for. You decided to spend the day doing something you absolutely loved, and that would be... reading. You had found yourself an old outdated science book, and you were honestly so fascinated at how little had changed in terms of scientific principles over the years. You were so invested in the book you were reading you didn’t even hear Issac walking in. He was on the hunt for his little hedgehog.

You were awoken from your book reading trance when you heard the sound of a vase smash against the floor. Startled you turned your head towards the loud crash only to see a very distressed looking Isaac. You are naturally sensitive to other emotion, and very much a giver, so it only took one glance at Isaac’s troubled face to prompt you into action. You noticed that he had cut himself on the fallen vase and he was now down crouched on the floor trying to retrieve his terrified hedgehog, who had gotten himself caught at the bottom of one of the large bookcases.

Wordlessly you laid on the floor beside Isaac and peered under the bookcase, when you spotted little Harry cowering in the dark corner tangled in a ball of wool. Your hands and arms were much smaller than Issac’s, so you were easily able to reach under the bookcase and secure the little hedgehog. Both of you sat up as you cradle the scared little animal in your hands, trying to untangle the wool that was wrapped around his body. “My God, Harry, I was worried sick about you, please never disappear like that again.” both you and Isaac breathed a sigh of relief at the now rescued critter.

That is when you looked up and noticed that Harry wasn’t the only hedgehog who had been injured, “Isaac, your hand!” You stood up and offered Isaac a hand up, you then gently took his hand in yours and led him to your room. You sat him down on your bed and gently started treating the injury as Harry had made himself comfortable, now sleeping on your pillow. While treating Isaac’s injury, you started chatting away with him. You could see him blushing profusely from embarrassment so you decided to tell him about the book you were reading before the whole fiasco. At the mention of the science book, Isaac instantly perked up and met your enthusiasm ten fold. After his wound was wrapped and treated, the two of you sat in deep conversation for the second time that week, chatting all about science and your mutual love for the subject. And that my dear friend is how you and Isaac had become good friends

Since that day, it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to be sitting across from each other in the library, reading away. Usually, Harry would be nestled in your lap as you and Isaac enjoy a quiet afternoon together. Some afternoon the two of you would just simply sit in silence and read while other afternoons were filled with laughter and conversation between the two of you cuties.

As the days went on Isaac had noticed a very curious fact about you, and that was how forgetful you were. He had noticed that you would go hours and hours without eating or drinking something which strangely enough, was the exact opposite of him, who required minimum routine of five meals a day. It was this curious observation that had started the habit of the two of you dining together every day. Something which both of you really enjoyed, especially now that the two of you were determined to find the best sweets in all of Paris. Every day without fail, at lunchtime you and Isaac would go out to town to try a new cafés for lunch and sweet. These café crawls usually involved Isaac showing you around Paris, visiting book stores together and leisurely walking beside the Seine. You honestly loved spending time with this hedgehog, who had seemed to have completely opened up to you.

Isaac loved your inappropriate jokes and twisted humour and would bust out into uncontrollable laughter whenever you would crack a joke. One time as the two of you were sitting on the fountain’s edge eating some ice cream, you saw a man falling up stairs. As hard as you tried, you couldn’t keep a poker face, it just wasn't in you, especially when Isaac had just witnessed the exact same scene and was now looking at you and snickering. Of course, being the sweet angels you were, you rushed to see if the man was alright, however, your walk home with Isaac was filled with jokes and endless laughter of the days events.

Ooh how Isaac had fallen head over heels for you, his favourite thing in the world was to hear you sing and play the piano. He would silently walk into the piano room whenever you played, and just let the beautiful sounds wash away his weariness of the day. He would shower you with endless compliments, even more so, when you would deny them, saying that you aren’t that good. These playful little banter fights usually end with him tickling you. He usually won’t give up until you admit that you are the best singer and piano player in the whole mansion. Cue Mozart walking in like challenge accepted.

The night Isaac finally confessed his feeling for you was on, one warm summers night. The night started of with Isaac taking you out to watch a musical concert. He knew just how much you love music. Before he had met you, he had never really bother taking the time to listen to music, as he had always been far to absorbed with his own work, to stop and smell the flowers. However since meeting you, he found himself utterly enjoying going to the opera and musical concerts and letting himself just get absorbed by the sound of music. He loved the way your eyes gleamed as you watched and listened to the performance.

After the concert, he lead you out into the garden, where his telescope had been all set up. The two of you sat together and stargazed while Mozart played some romantic classical music in the background, which was arranged by the resident hedgehog himself. Somewhere between the beautiful sight of the stars and the gentle melody playing in the background. Isaac build up the courage to finally reveal to you just how madly in love he was with you. He then produced a bunch of red roses out of thin air and resting in the roses was a card with a hand-drawn meme ( courtesy of Sabastian) asking you in the most hilarious way to stay in the past with him. The two of you met in a sweet kiss and the rest of the evening was spent cuddled in each other’s arms under the stars.

Both of you are pretty touch starved creatures, so expect to be cuddled, snuggled, kissed and hugged whenever Isaac comes across you. Like if Isaac spots you in the garden hanging laundry he will give you the biggest hug from behind, kiss your neck and then tell you how much he loves you, before he is off with Napo to teach the children.

Don’t worry about your impulsive behaviours, bottled up emotions or a quick temper. Isaac might be new to the whole human behaviour thing but he is very in-tune with your emotions and he will instantly pick up when you are feeling upset or angry. He will aim to fix every and all problems immediately, especially if it is causing you hurt or upset. This also counts for when you are over stressing yourself, about putting too high an expectation on yourself. If he sees you getting angry, stressed or frustrated, he will pull you into his arms and gently stroke your hair, you can’t be angry when you are being so gently held and loved. Isaac will sit an listen to all your troubles.

He always encourages you to communicate whenever you are having negative emotions so he can help you through it the best way he knows how, with cuddles. He would usually make you a cup of coffee and pull you into his lap and cuddle you, as you unpack everything and anything that had upset you that day. He will patiently listen and leave small little kisses on your cheeks to remind you that he is there for you and will support you no matter what

He loves your competitive side, even more so when you use it to win a bet and beat Arthur. HE also loves how open-minded you are. The two of you often teach each other new skills, for example, you have been teaching Isaac how to shoot while Isaac has been patiently teaching you maths and science.

He low key loves how possessive you are and is just as possessive over you. He absolutely adores you and will remind you of that every single day.

He loves holding your hands and giving you small kisses on the cheeks whenever the two of you go out together. He honestly can’t believe it when you feel insecure about the way you look, “You are honest to God, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” Will tickle you and shower you with kisses and loving words whenever you are feeling insecure about yourself.

He will always snicker when your feisty side comes out. Like whenever you sass the men at the banquets for spewing gender based stereotypes and being ignorant. Once they have been put in their place, Isaac while still laughing at the hilarious smack-down you just gave the ignorant men will always give you the sweetest kisses, “God, I love you so much.”

Isaac legit loves everything about you from your quick temper to your clumsy streak. You best be sure this hedgehog is ganna be right by your side whenever you clumsily injure yourself. He will legit sweep you off your feet and nuzzle into your neck, all while making sure you didn’t injure yourself too severely.

This boy loves you to the moon and back and would do anything to make you happy. If you are overexerting your injured knee you best be sure he will piggyback you to his room and do everything in his power to ease away the pain. Even if that means taking a soothing hot bath with you.

Often the two of you cuties can be found cuddled together, each reading their own book. Both your love languages are physical touch and quality time so Isaac is happiest when you are nestled near him simply spending some good quality time together.

Other potential matches…………. Comte

I hope you have the best day lia! Sending ya all the hugs! ❤❤🌻 @i-sleep-like-napoleon

#matchups #match ups #ikevamp matchup #ikevamp match up #ikemen vampire isaac #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp isaac newton #isaac newton #isaac match up #submission

27 notes · View notes

xpouii · 5 years ago

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Tentacletober Day 6

Hello everyone! This is so far the longest and most *interesting* to write! Several tags will be below the read more because they themselves are nsfw. Thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging and the general support I’ve received so far!

Prompt: Tentacle Sounding

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Remus

Warnings/Tags: NSFW, sounding, Intrulogical, full NSFW tagging beneath the read more!

Tags: Urethral Sounding, gagging, deepthroating, bulging (stomach and throat), dry orgasm, multiple orgasms, double penetration, technical spitroasting, bit of a size kink

Remus was an oddity, and Logan didn’t like oddities—or he liked them too much, some might say. He had never had much interest in the darker side of creativity; like Roman, Remus was just a lot of puff and nonsense, and Logan really had no time for that. However, unlike Roman, Remus was different. Anatomically, to start, and most interesting of course. Remus had tentacles. He was an octopus in the same way Deceit was a snake and Virgil was a spider. Thomas’ more dark sides—a ridiculous nickname—had animal traits, and where Virgil’s was as subtle as stridulation, Remus was an eldritch dream come true.

Logan had taken to following Remus, subtly, at a great distance; Remus was never the least bit aware of his surroundings, making him an easy target for case study. Logan kept meticulous notes about his observations from how quickly Remus could annoy Deceit to the way he tended to prefer heights and—of course—the tentacles.

Size. Shape. Color. Probable weight, mass and density given what could be observed with the naked eye.

As he recorded more and more, Logan grew less and less satisfied. He wanted to experience more. A good scientist can’t just rely on his eyes, and Logan had four senses more just aching for a piece of the action. Logan decided to be direct, but then he remembered Virgil’s warnings about direct approaches when it came to social exchanges, and it gave him pause. He would need to be cautious, gather more data, find out what Remus liked beyond eating deodorant and annoying Deceit with excessive physical affection. Logan was reminded briefly of Patton every time Remus got touchy, and that didn’t help quell his desires at all.

Logan tried to get closer, linger longer, and he was fairly successful, gathering snippets of information that might end up helping him in his quest. With success, comes carelessness, and Logan found himself following Remus to his room, peeking through the half-open door.

He paused in his watching to scribble down notes, and when he looked up, Remus had vanished. As he leaned closer to the crack in the door, Remus appeared just on the others side. Logan jumped, falling back on his butt, “R-Remus!”

“If you wanted to see me naked, Logan all you had to do was ask,” the chaotic side purred. “Come in.”

Logan watched Remus saunter back into his room, and then, with a grim resolve, he stood and followed, closing the door. Remus was watching him, hands on his hips, “Remus…”

“Yes, Logan?”

Logan cleared his throat, “I’d like to… inquire about your extra… appendages.”

“Logan are you asking to see my cock?”

”NO!” Logan calmed himself with a breath. “No… I’m asking about the tentacles.”

Remus giggled, “Well they love attention almost as much as I do. Should we go off to your little lab?”

“Oh, no this is fine,” Logan said. “If you feel comf-“

Remus was already naked with the wave of his hand, and he held his hands out like a circus ringmaster as the tentacles sprouted from his back and began to slide over his body. He held Logan’s gaze, lifting one hand to beckon him closer, “Come on.”

Logan stepped forward, eyes glued on the nearest green entity as it lifted away from Remus’ chest and moved to meet Logan. Logan lifted his hand slowly and touched the tip. It was smooth, slick and surprisingly warm; it shivered lightly under his touch and Remus’ face shifted. The tentacle nuzzled against Logan’s palm and up to wrap around his wrist, leaving a clear trail in its wake, “What is this substance?”

Remus shrugged, “No idea! I use it for lube.”

Logan’s cheeks colored but he kept his eyes on the tentacle as it worked up his arm; in his pants, an uncomfortable tightness was forming, and he shifted, trying to ignore it in favor of continuing his exploration.

“Do you like it?” Remus asked, smirking.

Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses with his free hand, “Yes. They’re… fascinating. What… can they do?”

Remus grinned, all teeth, “Now you’re speaking my language now. Why don’t you take off your clothes and I’ll show you.”

Logan blinked, but it was an easy decision, losing his clothes in exchange for a continued experience. He undressed methodically, leaving Remus a bit impatient, but when he was down to his glasses, Remus was smitten. The chaotic side moved to his bed, stretching out on his back. “Come over here, Moonbeam, make yourself comfortable.”

Logan hesitated, but he crawled up onto the bed and Remus helped him into place. Logan straddled Remus’ thighs, the blush on his face spreading over his body, “Is this-?”

“Perfect,” Remus purred. “Now just hold still and let them feel you.”

Logan stiffened when the first tentacles touched him, sliding up his legs to his hips, his waist, his chest. One particularly curious appendage came close to his face, bumping against his lips. Logan raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Remus before the tentacle repeated itself more insistently. Logan parted his lips to comment, but the tentacle slid between them and pinned his tongue down. Logan lifted a hand and the tentacle quickly retracted, “That was…”

“They get a little friendly,” Remus said. “Too much?”

Logan looked down, where the tentacles were wrapping around his legs and waist, up his back to cradle him. They avoided his twitching cock, and Logan was too fascinated to be embarrassed about his own body’s reactions. “No… no it wasn’t too much.”

Remus slid his hands behind his head, reclining as he watched the tentacles manhandling the other side. “Tell you what, why don’t you keep your hands to your sides, making a fist. If you need a break, just open your fist.”

“That seems reasonable,” Logan said, and when the tentacle returned he opened his mouth a bit wider for it, happily inviting it back in.

Remus’ own cock twitched as he watched the logical side, all wrapped up in him, taking a tentacle into his mouth—and he appeared to be loving it. Much more than Deceit who usually spent the experience rolling his eyes and muttering catty insults around anything Remus put in his mouth. Logan was so much more fun. Realizing he was literally daydreaming through an actual fantasy, Remus snapped out of his thoughts and looked back up to the scene unfolding above him.

Logan’s head lolled back and the tentacle pressed further, bulging his throat in a slow, tantalizing wave as Remus watched. The logical side made soft noises of discomfort, but his hands staid curled at his sides. Remus reached with a smaller tentacle and delicately plucked his glasses from his face as tears began to slide across his cheeks, setting them aside. Remus wasn’t actually an animal, after all; he could be thoughtful. Logan’s left hand spasmed, opening and closing, and Remus caught it instantly; the tentacle retreated—still poised over Logan’s red, slippery lips—so Logan could breathe, and he did so in greedy, rasping gasps. Remus watched him with careful eyes, almost losing it when Logan opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out, asking—begging—for more. Remus grit his teeth and watched the tentacle breach Logan’s mouth once more, earning a muffled moan that quickly devolved into a soft guttural choking sound. Remus might actually be in love.

When he pulled the tentacle from Logan’s mouth with a loud, wet pop, Logan looked down and seemed disappointed; the tentacle wrapped loosely around his neck, not interested in straying too far. “I thought we’d do something a little more-“

“There’s more?” Logan breathed.

Remus practically cackled as he sat up slightly, the tentacles holding Logan in place, “Oh Moonbeam I am going to change your life. Have you heard of sounding?”

“You mean Depth Sounding? I have, Did you know famous author Mark Twain took his pen name from a common term in Depth Sounding, by the mark of twain. It means-“

“I do not mean Depth Sounding,” Remus said. “Well… not exactly. You’re going to enjoy this a lot more than… whatever that was.”

“D-“

“Ah!” Remus scolded, holding up one finger. Logan fell silent, watching him with sullen curiosity. “There’s a good boy. Now just hold still, and remember your signal.”

Logan nodded, positioning his hands back at his sides. Remus sent out another tentacle; it traveled down his body and onto Logan’s, sliding up his thigh. Logan watched the thin tentacle snake around his cock, coiling around the head and spreading a thick layer of its shimmering slick. The tip was small, four—maybe five—millimeters in diameter, and Logan felt that delicious pang of nervousness when it first nudged at his slit. He exhaled as the tentacle entered him, a fullness that was just shy of unpleasant. Logan let out an open-mouthed groan, but his eyes were locked on the tentacle that slowly disappeared into him, wincing when it came against a stronger resistance. Remus reached down and repositioned Logan’s cock. “Relax,” he purred.

Logan did and with a pop that he felt without hearing, it went further, and the unpleasant pressure gave way to a deep, unattainable stimulation and made Logan grab Remus’ wrist and shake, “Remus! I-“

“Shhh I know,” Remus cooed, leaning in to kiss him. “I know Moonbeam. Let them be sweet to you. Just relax.”

Logan swallowed and took a deep breath, letting his hand go back to his side and curl into a fist. His thighs tensed around Remus’ thighs when the tentacle began to move, first subtle little writhing and then a slow, slippery in and out that made Logan whimper, but it was good, so good. Remus bit his bottom lip, “Ready for more?”

Logan opened his eyes, and looked down at Remus, “I don’t think I can take another-“

“Not there,” Remus said, and one of the tentacles that had been holding Logan’s thighs slid up and around the logical side’s ass.

The other tentacles spread Logan’s thighs just a bit, and the one around his throat pulled gently, leaning him forward. Logan exhaled, “Yes… please.”

The first tentacle made Logan hiss. It was cold, comparatively, and the stretch and burn while fascinating—and pleasurable—were undeniably new. Everything was slow, tentative, the tentacle inside Logan’s cock had gone still, letting each sensation come independently. When the stretch had sloped down to a thick, pleasant slide, Logan whined, “What’s the matter, Moonbeam?”

“M-more,” Logan gasped. “More please.”

“Greedy greedy,” Remus said, but he obliged, and soon another tentacle was teasing at Logan’s entrance, making the logical side’s breath catch in his throat. The first tentacle had found his prostate, and Logan let out a yelp of surprised pleasure, his head falling forward and his disheveled hair obscuring his eyes. Remus moaned and nudged Logan, “Sit up, arch your back.”

Logan muttered a half-hearted complaint but he did as he was told, rebalancing his body; his head went back this time, his body drawn out like a piano wire. Remus took in the gorgeous sight as the tentacles inside moved, all at once, writhing and pushing and caressing. Logan mewled, and his eyes opened; he looked at Remus for one moment before he visually noticed the tentacles moving inside of him, two eager bulges under his skin. Logan’s mouth fell open and Remus took his hand, pressing it to the spot. “Doesn’t it feel good, Moonbeam? All filled up with me? Letting me explore you.”

Logan panted, unable to form anything coherent; his head fell back and he opened his mouth. There was that tongue again, and Remus could have cum just from the sight—and the thought—of four tentacles driving into his new bedfellow. Logan, Logic, stiff, stick-in-the-mud, no-nonsense Logan was a trembling sobbing mess, being sounded and throat fucked and double penetrated by the very agent of entropy and decadence. It was poetic, in theory and in practice, and Remus allowed himself a self-indulgent moan as he returned his focus on disassembling his little android. The tentacles attacked Logan’s prostate from both sides, and Logan choked on the one down his throat, letting out a garbled little moan as the appendage pulled back, drool and slick rolling down Logan’s chin onto his heaving chest. He panted in a deep, rugged, ruined voice before opening his wide mouth again, silently begging.

Remus left him waiting for a moment, drooling and heaving, “Look at you, Pavlov’s Slut, how cute.”

The teasing and moaning tapered off then, and Remus focused his efforts. Soon Logan’s entire body was tensing and quivering in a rapidly deteriorating rhythm, his untouched cock twitching and jumping with even the tiniest movements of Remus’ tentacles. The climax rolled through him like an avalanche; Logan choked on the tentacle in his mouth but his hands stayed curled into fists as pleasure tore through him, deep, hard and dry. Remus’ expression turned feral at the promise of making Logan cum again without employing any of his usual magic. He pushed Logan through the dry orgasm, drawing it out until Logan was whimpering and squirming. Then, Remus let go, the tentacles holding Logan upright moved away and he fell onto his back, the tentacle leaving his mouth. He panted and sputtered and sobbed. The two tentacles abandoned their assault of Logan’s insides until all that was left was the tentacle he’d been using to sound Logan’s brains out. As it retracted, Logan arched and shouted, surprised and probably a little frightened by the intensity of the orgasm that ripped through him. Remus moved away as Logan came, painting his stomach, thighs and the dark sheets beneath him. He was a trembling, writhing mess, and Remus couldn’t help but smiled fondly, “My, I’ve made a mess.”

Remus moved back in, reaching to stroke Logan’s hair, but the other side caught his wrist, pushing him away. He sat up, waving his hand to clean up the sheets—and himself, “Thank you Remus.” His voice was hoarse, shaky, weak, and when he tried to stand he instantly collapsed. Remus caught him, but Logan pulled himself together—and away—and picked up his glasses from the nightstand.

“You know, it’s customary to engage in some after care after this kind of-“

“Thank you, again, but I won’t be needing that,” Logan said, his tone even and pleasant. He used his magic to dress, and left the room on shaky legs.

Remus watched him go and tried not to be insulted.

#tentacletober #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #not safe for sanders #fanfiction

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the-headbop-wraith · 4 years ago

Text

3 _ 41 _ The Land Time Forgot

Part 3

Late the following morning (no one set an alarm aside from Mystery, and he kicked it off the nightstand) the Mystery Skulls arrived back on the scene of the Fanatical Hypes ™ theme park. The group splint into two, with Vivi and Mystery hitting up an information desk, and scheduling a meet with Mr. Klayton. While she went in to establish the meeting, Arthur and Lewis jammed off to scope around. The main priority of the latter group was get a feel for the general mood of the park, and as usual, keep track of the staff performing mundane services. For this specific case, pay special attention to character actors doing meet-and-greets.

Arthur and Lewis returned to the district where they first encountered the Allosaur, but likely by morning and the park opening, the reconstruction staff had the demolished perimeter repaired totally. Covered up, and not much evidence left in the open for documentation.

The fences were replaced, the hedges and shrubs trimmed back to conceal the shredded branches. Nothing was left for the curious, aside from some footprints in the soil, likely to entice the fascination of a child exploring around.

“Well shit.”

“Language.”

Arthur grumbled to himself as he gnawed on his powdery funnel cake. “It wasn’t like there was much else to check out, anyway.” He followed Lewis, who was leading the way while he leaned hard on aimlessness; distracted by his second breakfast. “Y’think we should check out the attraction in the daylight? Ride it, see if Allo is on the prowl?”

This wasn’t his first choice, it was last on the list. But the list was short, and he was a bit lethargic from the sugar dump and not invested in running cross country over the Ages Gone district. He did rationalize the Allosaur wasn’t present in the ride, if it was damaged the night before – he didn’t see how much – the Allosaur might be decommissioned for repairs. He didn’t want to be a drag on the case, either, even if he wasn’t invested in getting chased top of the morning out of the attraction first thing. Better than putting it off until nightfall, when the creep factor spiked one-hundred percent.

The closed sign was still up, and no lines gathered at the entrance of the Land Time Forgot ride.

“I can turn it on,” he mentioned.

Lewis paused to examine the entrance. “Naw. We should head over to HQ, and meet with Vivi and Mystery. How’s the cake?”

“Hmm.” Arthur shrugged. “Not as good as the ones your Mamma makes.” Lewis smirked. “At least, the ones not sabotaged by heaty spicy.” This got a laugh out of Lewis.

“Every time, I warn you not to leave your food unattended.”

Arthur choked on powdered sugar. “S’not my fault, she’s so crafty!” He tore off a bit of the cake and passed it over.

“No contest?” he prompted, as Lewis nibbled.

“Mmm. Es un poco decepcionante. Then again, it doesn’t have the same fragrance.”

“Ever the connoisseur of pastries and spicies.” Arthur fell in step with Lewis. “if we’re lucky, maybe the thing blew a fuse and fell into one of the lakes.”

An estimated time was set for meeting up with Vivi and Mystery at the main security office, and the central headquarters for the Fanatical Hypes ™. She had to make her way to HQ, after checking in with information and securing a bit of time with Mr. Klayton. The hoops and hurtles took time, and at best was a ‘hurry up and wait’ scenario.

“Everything looks normal,” Lewis mentioned.

“Attendance bein’ low n’all,” Arthur rebounded. He dumped the cardboard box and napkins in a trash reciprocal, and stopped at a bench beside a towering tree. From his own backpack, he produced the bottle of ninety-nine and scrubbed the sweet-sticky off his hands. “I’ll keepin’ an eye out for the Allo chasing team.”

“You wanna chase the Dino Exterminators?”

“Heck no! I wanna know which way to be runnin’, and race out of dodge.” He jammed a thumb up over his shoulder.

Lewis pulled his backpack around front and fished around for the work camera. “Classic Arthur, the brave.” He waved the camera. “Can I get a pic? For the memorias.” It wasn’t important where Arthur relocated to, as long as Lewis moved into position. “Strike a pose.”

Arthur stood, flexing his… noodle arms. “Check out these guns.”

Lewis adjusted the zoom and snapped a picture. “Cojo.”

“Did you say something rude?”

Lewis stuffed the camera back in the backpack and resumed walking. “No.”

“I’m gonna look up that word right now.” He pulled out his phone and began tapping. “Say that word again. C’mon, say it.”

Lewis sighed. “We’re supposed to be working.”

“I’m doing essential research.”

The layout of the security office was not overly complex, and one of the security officers escorted Vivi through the corridors. It was still off-putting with how most the corridors were identical, they might’ve been going around in circles and would be none the wiser. They came through the day before, and Mystery pursued the security guy with every ounce of confidence in his doggy stride. But Mystery was at times overconfident in his own abilities, she usually had to keep an eye on him.

They reached the inner waiting room for Mr. Klayton’s office, a quaint little space where a receptionist worked behind a desk and work station. The previous day, the team didn’t spend much time here. Vivi bid the security escort a thank you and went to the receptionists. In a brief exchange, she gave over her details and offered the temporary ID. The receptionists made a brief call to Mr. Klatyon, and then to Vivi:

“He’ll see you in a moment. Would you like some refreshments?” The receptionist stood a bit and indicated the far side of the room. Both Vivi and Mystery followed the line of sight.

One side of the room reserved space to a short concession table, among some comfortable looking chairs. A mini fridge huddled in the corner, with a glassed in front, revealing chilled snacks and sodas. The offered goodies didn’t appear to be off-brand names, and appeared to be on the pricey side.

Vivi strolled over to the fridge and squinted one eye. “Want a snack?”

Two minutes later, the receptionist was peering over the desk uneasily as the dog and girl cleared out the refreshments. All the cups and trays were in a neat stack on the table, among with two cans of soda with straws sticking out. Mystery was drinking his soda, very politely. Vivi polished off another one of those adult lunchable meal-sets, with the meats and cheeses portioned out, and some crackers. Mystery took up a napkin and dabbed at his snout.

Quite suddenly, the door to Mr. Klayton’s office swung open wide, and three people emerged, mid argument. Not arguing among each other, but speaking loudly in a heated fashion, and being expressive with the tangle of the back and forth. Vivi stood up from the recliner she had claimed, but the door to Mr. Klayton’s office shut. Um, what was she supposed to do? She looked at the receptionists, but they were on the phone.

“—is keep sitting on this debt, we lost money we’re unable to compensate for because he has the models,” one was saying.

Vivi perked.

“We can refurbish the skins,” another was saying. “Get them off our hands. The skins are pliable, the finalized version universal.”

“Excuse me.” Vivi smiled when they stopped and looked her way. The three looked rather distinct with their general style, piercings, and a few tattoos. Nothing over the top or overdone, but they stood out with the clash of the formal blazers and slacks. “I take your meeting went well?”

The smaller guy, he looked the most stressed, took a deep breath. “I hope you did not get commissioned for work with this guy.”

Vivi gave a little wave. “Oh no, don’t worry. No money transactions going on here.” She got her backpack off the recliner and rummaged around. She pulled out a dog toy for Mystery. “You’re talkin’ about skins. That’s heckin’ scary. Mystery, you scared?”

Bark! He loved wail chicken. OH! But he was scared. He took the chicken and slinked under the table. A little whimper would sell his performance.

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” an older girl replied. “Don’t pay attention to that. The owner of this company kind of skimped on our checks for some orders. We want it settled, but contract technicalities.” She sighed and smoothed out her extravagant hair. “We’ll have to explore our options with the court, but right now we don’t want to go there.”

“Oh boy,” Vivi feigned surprise. “Court fees are kind of high. Would it be worth it?”

The group looked around to each other, uncertain, annoyed. The buff guy once more, responded, “It wouldn’t be very profitable, for our company. But we might be able to recover some of our lost appraisal value.”

“That’s why we need to forget it, and just refurbish the skins,” the girl was saying.

“What skins?” Vivi asked innocently. “Like, taxidermy? Is there a taxidermy attraction in the park?” They kind of laughed.

The third member, a stout figure, spoke. “We built some 3-D attractions for the park, we can’t talk much about it due to… corporate copyright protections.”

“Gotcha.” She winked.

“There were two purchases,” he went on. “The endo-structure support, and then the skin cover. We got paid for the mechanical skeleton, but there was… a miscommunication for the covering, and Geoffrey ordered the skins off another supplier.”

“They don’t even look that good,” the buff guy snapped. “We incorporated specialized silicon into the joints, to compensate for wear and tear.”

“None of them are anatomically correct.” The girl was saying.

“That’s enough,” the stout guy said. He checked his phone. “We gotta get going. Another meeting.” He waved his phone Vivi’s way. “Good luck with anything.”

When the trio exited the main door, the buff guy turned back. “Pfft, hope you get your money’s worth.”

Vivi was already digging through her backpack. “We’re not… getting paid.”

The security escort was at the door, holding it while the trio exited. Arthur and Lewis slipped in, Lewis appeared perplexed.

“Paid?” he asked, when the door shut. “Are we getting paid?”

Arthur sighed. “No.”

“Should we?”

“Technically, yes.”

Vivi was busy writing in her notebook. “We’re not getting paid, not this job. We’ll be compensated in something far more valuable.”

Arthur tugged on his goatee. “Pray tell, what is more valuable that cold, hard, cash?”

Lewis prompted, “Liquid assets?”

Mystery barked. He slipped out from under the table, chicken in his teeth.

Arthur was laughing. “God, I love you Lewis.”

Vivi swung her pen at them. “We’re getting paid in unlimited food.”

Bark! Mystery balanced the chicken on his head.

“Exactly. Lifetime passes.” She continued writing in the notebook. “What did you two find out?”

“Well—” Lewis began. The door to Geoffrey Klayton’s office opened, and the business owner’s head poked out.

“Mystery Skulls,” Mr. Klayton called. “Do you have anything to report?”

There wasn’t much to impart onto Geoff or Geoffrey Klaton, manager of Fanatical Hypes ™, and distressed new owner of the park. The most that the Mystery Skulls afforded was a courtesy call, to see if there was anything he could recall. Likewise, if anything was reported by Geoffrey’s staff in the short time the crew was absent, let alone if the Allosaur was making rounds. The team did speculate to the park owner, the animatronic that was malfunctioning might not be a malfunction at all. For the time, this was all the intelligence they would be willing to impart until deeper into the investigation.

“A saboteur?” Mr. Klayton uttered, on the side of disbelief. “I don’t know what you mean. That is to say, I understand your suspect. But who could possibly want to sabotage my theme park?”

Vivi exchanged a glance with Lewis. Both were sitting, with Arthur between them on his phone doing more ‘research’. He hadn’t spoken much since the meeting initiated, his spare arm was draped down an idly scratching at Mystery’s ear.

“You… really can’t think of anyone that would have it out for your park?” Vivi proposed. “A disgruntled worker? A group opposed to the expansion of the park?”

“Or how ‘bout a bright but neglected kid, with a knack for engineering and computer programming,” Lewis tossed in.

Arthur stopped what he was doing and gave Lewis a thousand-yard stare. “Dude, really?”

Lewis huffed and adjusted his ascot. “Don’t underestimate the power of kids. You of all people should know their capabilities.” Arthur gave a shudder, and the topic ended there.

“A rival competitor!” Vivi speculated, with fervor. “Or other theme attraction, such as museum or zoo? Your theme park is a massive draw from other, perhaps lesser-known tourist stops.”

Mr. Klayton thoughtfully stroked his chin. “I suppose all of those are possibilities, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Vivi opened her mouth, but stalled out and took a short breath. “Yes,” she sighed. “Well, we know how they plan on defaming your company.”

Lewis took over, “Once we deal with the Allo-dino menance, it’ll dry up their tools. Might even draw them out to confront us, if only to salvage the machine.” He glanced to Arthur, still engrossed with his phone.

Mr. Klayton cleared his throat and leaned back. “I should be the one utilizing the Allosaur nuisance to scare off all the ruffians that come to this park, and vandalize attractions. It costs millions yearly to repair graffiti! Never mind the damage a broken, malfunctioning animatronic causes.”

The group chuckled a little uneasily. After the events the night before, they were more than eager to investigate the human influence behind the machines ‘glitch’, or lack of. The problem wasn’t the mechanical nightmare deviating from its programming, but that it was following someone’s programming to the absolute command.

“It is pretty serious,” Vivi admitted. “We’re rooting for a starting point, and that’ll give us the momentum we need to reach a conclusion with minimal hiccups. You can’t think of… who might have it out for you?” Geoff Klayton wasn’t taking the bait.

He flipped his palms up, shrugging. “I don’t know what to tell you. As a theme park owner, and owner to several trademarks and copyright properties – I have rivals, and I have competitors – any one of them might have the capacity to… rob my attraction of an animatronic.”

“Oh, they didn’t hijack the animatronic.” At last, Arthur spoke up. He continued tapping and swiped on his phone. “It’s not an original of the set you purchased, so technically you don’t own it. I would ask for records on the transaction, those animatronics ordered and supplied. Have that on hand.”

Something in Mr. Klayton’s demeanor changed. “Yes. That would… make sense.”

Arthur pointed to his phone. “I’m going through files for the ride from Influencer Adrenalin Junky Park Enthusiasts, trying to estimate where and how Allo began making first appearances.” He chewed on his knuckle as he returned to the phone. “It’ll narrow down the parties or persons invested in sabotaging your park.”

Mr. Klayton nodded. “All right. You seem to have things under control. Er, please notify me if you learn anything new.”

The meeting didn’t reveal much for the Mystery Skulls, but cashing in and checking Mr. Klayton’s response to the investigation was telling. It was more productive discussing their progress amongst their crew, while meandering through the park and keeping an eye on the boring routine, scouting for the lingering glance that linger too long on the colorful assemble. Someone other than Geoff would be in on their involvement, and it would narrow down who that person or people were, if they were forced to emerge from the shadows rather than hide behind a computer monitor. Given how bare the park was today, it wasn’t difficult to sift through familiar faces.

Directly following the departure from the main headquarters, the group stopped for some late lunch. They planned to make a direct path to the Land Time Forgot attraction, with the aid of a golfcart rented to them for convenience.

“You guys are really taking advantage of the free food gig,” Lewis stated. He had a small crate of fries, bummed off from Arthur’s meal. He should have been the one driving, but he barely managed to catch the golfcart when Vivi sped off.

“I’m a growing boy,” Arthur mumbled, seated in the back-bed reserved for supplies. And him. He loaded the hotdogs with his usual condiments, expertly applying sauces regardless the rock and bumps of the vehicle. “I’m callin’ it now, gonna beat twenty KM tonight. I need calories.”

Woof!

“Yeah-yeah, hold on.” Arthur used the spare plastic cutlery to divide off a piece from one of his hotdogs, and tossed it to Mystery.

“Then there’s this guy following us.” Lewis bit onto the end of his fry tray and pulled his backpack up off the floorboard. He dug out the work camera and began fiddling with the menu on the back. “’Unna ‘end ohh ‘eh ‘ick’ures.”

“Aw, thanks sweety,” Vivi gushed. “Love photos.”

Arthur stuffed a hotdog into his mouth. “MumhmumhmmmuumhmhmhmumhUUGH.”

“Artie, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He chewed and swallowed. “I’m tryin’ tu say, he could be a fan.” He had to brace his feet to the tailgate and wrap an arm around Mystery, when Vivi took a sharp turn. Mystery gobbled up one of his hotdogs while he was distracted.

Vivi took some fries from Lewis’ tray. Together the two chimed, “Naah.” She took the side of the phone and gave the photos a short review; the fry stuck out of her lips like a lollypop.

Lewis added, “Guys a creeper. Don’t like that.” With practiced routine, he held the steering wheel while Vivi was distracted. The golfcart bounced over a railroad intersection and revved down the pathway, the sights and shadows of scenery whipped by as did the visitors enjoying a very offseason.

Through the next two hours, the team browsed through the Land Time Forgot attraction, with some of the ride features on, minus the roaming animatronics. With the lights on, they returned to the scene of where Arthur became trapped by Allo, and scouted through the roughed up terrain to determine if anything else could be scrounged out of the untouched region. Thankfully, the attraction remained shut up and abandoned over the course of their investigation, otherwise, the roots and undergrowth might’ve been restored to their former glory. And all evidence within whisked away – an aspect that greatly annoyed Vivi. Which was why no one divulged that information to her, prior to the meeting. They needed Geoff’s cooperation, especially if he could be manipulated into divulging intel he wasn’t aware was relevant to the investigation.

With clear minds and energy, they took some additional pictures of the damaged tree. The attraction was less creepy with the light and the pre-recorded jungle ambiance, it seemed normal despite the artificial birdcalls replicating anticipated clamor of long extinct avian and reptiles. With the animatronics inactive, the crew made certain to keep alert for the thundering steps and grumbling that should have no right being present.

After scarfing two hotdogs, Mystery was on the hunt for evidence as well.

“The people I spoke with,” Vivi was saying, “seemed open about their dispute with Geoff McKlayton. They have plans on going to court with their dispute, but they could also be pressuring him into paying up the money he owes on the machines. Though, I don’t think either party want it to go that far.” She set her hand on her chin, contemplating the flaws in the assessment.

“But they went off and told you.” Lewis picked up a cracked chunk of the root, and examined the inner gray material that was cement. “Maybe they were frustrated and venting, or they’re not fixed on covering their tracks. Even if I wasn’t aware of an investigation, I wouldn’t go broadcasting. That’s just me, though.” He grinned.

Vivi shrugged. “It doesn’t need to be the whole group. One person, a programmer, can scheme this plan up.”

Arf-arf!

Arthur lowered his phone and turned the way Mystery was. “Watcha got there?” Mystery pawed at the fake soil, a ways off from the group. Some of the terrain was disturbed, and footprints visible in the undersoil. He crouched and moved aside a few strands of the interwoven fiber. “Hmm? This is something.” He reached over and gave Mystery’s head a playful rub. “Nice work, bud.”

Bork! Mystery smiled and wagged hit bob tail.

It was a short bar with wires attached at a servo and computer board. The piece was no longer than his forearm, though it was apparent this was not the entire part. The metal was warped and bent, the circuit board was snapped in two. A few insignificant pieces lay in the dirt, but being so small they were not worth the time.

Arthur took his phone up and snapped off some pictures. “I need your paw for reference.”

Mystery sat back and bent his ears down.

“C’mon, just your—” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Never mind. I got this.” He stuck out his foot, and snapped off some pictures. “They’re for our private collection.” He flipped the piece over and inched in close, until he was a foot off the floor.

Lewis and Vivi came over. “What’s that? From the Allo?”

“Obviously.” Arthur pulled down his backpack and slipped out a napkin. “Likely the arm, but it might’ve come off its snout.” He bounced the metallic piece in his hands. “Light. Snapped easy too. The endoskeleton support must be zinc or aluminum. I would have to examine it more carefully.”

Vivi adjusted her head band. “They made it cheap.”

“It’s not cheap,” Arthur corrected. “This metal is light, which benefits the dinos swift movement and alleviates stress on more important components, such as the legs and infrastructure.” He pulled out a bag and stuffed the metal component into it, then sacked it. “Anything else to declare, Mystery dog?”

Mystery did a tight circle and barked. I’ll give it another patrol, no promises.

They spent a little more than thirty minutes, rechecking the only other location where Lewis and Arthur had an extended encounter with the Allosaur. That was the plaster cliff, where Lewis spectacularly failed to climb. Not that it was his fault, the cheap material and the sheer panic. Though Arthur did note the vine rope was missing. Why would it be missing? No secret someone came through and moved it, with intent. It didn’t supply much to the sleuthing, aside from what they could already figure. The missing vine could mean someone came through and removed some incriminating evidence, but it left the question of why the vine?

“It’s still early,” Lewis yawned. “Should we hit up the room, go through our research until the park closes?”

“Grab a nap,” Arthur teased. From the ledge he jumped and landed between Mystery and Vivi, the soft fake ground cushioned his touchdown. Even so, he shook his legs out as he began walking. “Snag a snack on the way.”

Woof. Mystery trotted alongside Arthur.

“I’m game,” Vivi proclaimed, as she stretched. “We’ll get an early start this evening, see if we can scope anyone suspicious. Hmm… cool. Hey! Wait a second!” She halted dead in her tracks – Lewis was right behind her, and stumbled into her backside. “Hey! WAIT!” She pointed to one of the animatronics, a long-necked sauropod nuzzling the high branches of a frond. It paid her no mind.

“Um!” Lewis exclaimed. “Arthur?”

“Hah?” He stopped and swung back. Following the gaze of Vivi and Lewis, he spied the issue at hand. “Hey! Noway! You’re not pinning that on me!” Mystery popped behind his legs, ears folded back and shoulders dipped.

“You’re totally missing the point,” Vivi rebuked. “We’re not alone here.”

“In more ways than one.” Lewis grabbed her hand and tugged her along. “Vamoose! Con rapidez!”

“Damnit-damnit-damnit!” Arthur hissed. He ducked and dove between the forest saplings, with Mystery in his shadow. “We should be okay if we don’t divert our course. The dino displays aren’t dangerous, if we get too close they’ll move out of the way. Right? Right! They have that failsafe programmed.”

In their swift footed retreat, they happened across paths with a biped herbivore and another one of the tyrannosaur models amid a dramatic confrontation. Though, the conflict was complete PG, the two animatronics shuffled around and growled, no real physical assault was planted on the other. The tyranno charged, and the bipedal herbivore gave a wail and trudged aside – tail swishing in the low branches. The group sprinted out of the way, altering their trek when the herbivore animatronic waddled much too close to their position, though neither animatronic dropped focus or heeded them in the slightest.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

Lewis snatched his hand from Vivi’s. “Oh, sorry. Forgot.”

“It’s okay.” She picked up speed, threading among some baboo foliage and leapt out onto the road. One of the buggy’s rolled through, forcing her back beside the barrier and the grove of fake trees. “Yikes!” She was joined by the others, springing free of the fake shrubbery.

“Someone ain’t playing around,” Arthur panted.

Lewis was already stepping over the trackway, where the buggy’s followed the pathway fitted into the vehicle guidance rail. “Let’s hurry. If Allo spies us, we’ll have a heck of a time shakin’ it.”

Arthur and Mystery leapt to the side, beside Lewis. “Don’t have to tell me about it.” He adjusted his backpack, that janky part dug into his shoulder blade.

The noises of the passive animatronics was off-putting, the lumbering machines prowled through the thicket on pathways of their pre-scripted focus. Sometimes one or two grunted in the thicket, the machines gave pre-scripted calls to their counterparts, and it was somewhat reassuring when someone returned the cry – it made them more conscience and lifelike rather husks or puppets. Nonetheless, the clamor was off-putting.

Though none took an interest in the group as they navigated through the patches of undergrowth, there was an otherworldly strangeness to the situation. It would’ve been different, if they were aboard the ride and could marvel at the animatronics as a fantastic spectacle. Being trapped within the attraction itself, was akin to getting locked in the lions den. Anywhere, the Allosaur could be lurking, watching, its movement masked by the other roaming giants mindlessly patrolling.

“We should’ve checked the charging station,” Arthur muttered. “It was worth a shot.”

Vivi barely stalled, as she skipped down a mild slope. “The chances were astronomically low. Anyway, it’s unlikely whoever built it, would chance it to have the same restrictions the other animatronics have. Maybe it has a car battery, or something similar - something to change out manually, and quickly.” Arthur was about to counter, but Lewis broke in:

“Argue back at the room,” he huffed, while clambering over fake logs. “Mr. Klayton doesn’t need another incident.”

“Another incident,” Arthur spat. “If I’m turned into a toothpick, he’ll have another incident!”

“Artie!” Lewis and Vivi snarled simultaneously. Mystery barked.

Ten minutes later, they were stumbling out of the grove of thick elephant ears that bordered the initial entrance to the attraction. A buggy was situated at the ramp that slopped down, and intersected with the track where the vehicle locked into. It remained stationary, while the group marched the remnant meters over to the vehicle dock. Arthur took up the lead, climbing up onto the boarder where riders would exit off.

“For the record, someone has to manually unlock these so they can start off.” He moved along the walkway beside the vehicle port, toward the control office. The group followed. “For safety reasons.”

“Then someone was just here,” Lewis amended, slamming a fist into his palm. “We might’ve missed them by a second.”

Vivi grabbed the elbow of his shirt sleeve. She whispered, “They might still be around.” The control office had a glassed door, and through it no visible shape of a person or anyone was visible. The corridor leading behind the paneling was deserted. “Let’s keep our eyes open.”

“Right.”

The door was left ajar, but there was no indication of who might’ve been there to tamper with the controls. Arthur checked the ceiling, for tiles that might’ve afforded a hasty escape. Not that they would pursue someone up there.

With him entered Vivi, giving the monitors in the room a lingering scrutiny – the cameras revealed every angle of the attraction. Primarily, the tracks and the buggies, and the exits. None of the office revealed much, aside from what could be observed from this singular location. Arthur hadn’t even activated the cameras, though they were clearly marked.

“Y’know what I’m seein’ a lot of?” he ventured, upon taking a closer examination of the screens.

“Huh?” Lewis followed Arthur’s gaze, tracking each static shot. Some of the dinosaurs in the attraction continued to lumber about, performing for no audience their monotonous charade.

“We didn’t need these screens going,” Arthur continued. “Though it might’ve helped. But these cameras are watching everywhere we were runnin’ around the other night.”

Lewis hiked up his brows. “The place wasn’t as deserted as we wanted. They could be – ” He’s cut off by Arthur’s hand capping his mouth.

“Mystery?” Vivi prompted. She stepped out of the office and addressed the hound. “Can ya get us a lead?”

Yip! Mystery plowed his way into the control office and gave the floor, the dial panel, and the chair a brief skim with his snout. He padded out of the office sniffling at the cement floor, decorated with imprints of fossilized insects and varied species of crustaceans. Weaving this and that way, then in a circle, Mystery directed his path to the ride exit.

Woof!

“Lead the way then,” Vivi cheered. Lewis, then Arthur followed one after the other.

“Could it have been anyone not affiliated with the park?” Lewis questioned, as they pursued Mystery through the narrow corridor. Displays of replicated bones and dioramas of dinosaur statues amid patches of forest, gave guests ample photo opportunities upon exit. There was also a pose with dinosaur station, set aside in an alcove along the way.

“It’s possible.” Arthur scratched at his sideburns, thoughtful. However, he knew what Lewis was getting at. “The controls are easy enough to figure out, with minimal issues if you fuck it up. Basically, everything is on or off. I lay my cards, that we didn’t miss them by a second. They fooled around, got the ride going, and then took off.”

“You said the ride buggies have to be manually set off.” Vivi indicated.

“True,” Arthur piped. “Still, it takes the buggies a few minutes to roll around the trail. The ones we saw might’ve been the first activated on an error, before the Flintstones got warmed up.” Vivi groaned at that.

“Is the trail hot, Misty?” Lewis called.

Mystery gave an affirming bark, and picked up the pace. He banked into the curve, leading past displays of replica dinosaur fossils ‘excavated’ from the wall. But suddenly, the dog skidded on his rear paws and pulled himself up short. Vivi nearly tripped over him, and Lewis nearly collided into her once more.

“Dang breaks.” Lewis caught Vivi before she could topple over onto the hound. “What gives?”

Mystery tilted his head, then set his nose back to the floor. He made a dog grumble, baffled, going in a circle, then went counterclockwise. His head sprang up and he looked back at the group, ears sprouting high, and a yip for good measure.

“Arthur?” Vivi echoed. She glanced around, jolting. “Arthur! Where—”

“Oh Dios mío!” Lewis capped his hands over his face. “Otra vez?”

Vivi pushed past him, charging throgh the narrow corridor. “He didn’t go that way, that’s for sure!”

Mystery scampered after them, barking up a storm. I have to get in the lead! Let me by!

They returned to the main chamber of the attraction entrace, spreading out and skimming across the nearby thicket for a chance of movement or flash of yellow. Mystery barreled by, headed for the ride entrance and yapping.

“It happened so fast!” Lewis was saying. “He was right behind me! Cómo! Como dejamos que esto suceda?”

“They couldn’t have gone far. Mystery!” Vivi gave chase, before the bob tail winked out of view beyond the curvature in the entrance corridor. “Lew! Hurry!” With a growl, Lewis raced after. “Arthur! Ya there!”

“They’ll hear us Vi!”

Ruff!

“So will Art,” she countered. “He can buy us some time, if he can fight them.”

After a grueling chase – no indication or view of where Arthur and the vandal might be, let alone indication of how far ahead they’d gone – the lengthy tunnel ended abruptly. The trio was blasted by vicious, unobstructed sunlight of the noon day. Vivi squinted and raised a hand, struggling to dampen the light and view through the over-exposedness of her vision. She blinked several times, at a total loss. Mystery was barking in hysterics.

“Where!”

“MMHP!” She knew that stuffed mouth mumble anywhere!

Lewis had an easier time adjusting to the light, given the shade of his pompadour. He took a stand and pointed, aimed toward the parked golfcart already loaded with yellow and orange. “Hey! Stop right there!”

One of the corny costume masked dinosaur curios popped up, its static eyes gawked north and south simultaneously. In the back of the golfcart bed, Arthur jerked his legs, but with his body bundled tight he was not going anywhere. He couldn’t get up over the edge, despite his desperate thrashing.

The masked vandal ducked into the driver side of the golfcart and hit the gas, and like that the electric vehicle shot off – its corner bumper skid across one of the fence posts in the tight turn.

“I said STOP!” Lewis hooted. “C’mon Mystery!” He and the dog jumped the “Out of Commission” fence, and sprinted down the inclined stepping sections, immediately hurrying after the speeding cart.

“You guys!” Vivi called. “Wait, we need a better plan!” Regardless, she bounded down the steps as well, nearly falling down completely in a misstep. Before she could devote herself entirely to running down her colleagues, she broke off and took a different route.

When he wanted to be, Lewis could move fast. He could absolutely rival Arthur in a sprint if the occasion called, but for a short stint of time. In that same amount of time, he recognized he was not going to get ahold of the cart that was zooming off with his friend. Faster than his legs could move, tireless, and with the authority of a beep-beep – guests moved aside.

Though Mystery could keep going, and could be just as relentless.

“Don’t lose him!” Lewis called.

Bark! His tongue lolled out of his mouth, he wasn’t going to fail. If he lost the vehicle, picking up the scent would not be simple. He should know, he devoted lifetimes to obstructing trails.

In short time, the soft putter of an engine revved beside Lewis. He gave it a look over, and glanced at the driver. “Should I ask?”

“Official Mystery Skulls business!” Vivi barked. In the back of the cart, numerous packages and boxes were packed in. That explained a lot. “We’re losin’ them.”

Lewis hopped aboard. He took the bar that framed the canopy of the vehicle and leaned out. The vehicle swayed and skidded, when Vivi swerved to avoid oblivious guests and a few character actors out on the path. Vivi smacked the horn.

Beep-beep.

“Outta the way! Look out!”

The other cart remained a ways ahead, the little vehicles were not highway fast Ferraris but they could move. Ahead, a sharp left took the other cart on another path. Lewis clambered to the other side of the cart and leaned out.

“Don’t slow down!” He reached an arm out. “Get as close as you can, and hold tight!”

“Gotcha!” Vivi altered course, going for the corner of the path and the lamppost there. “This is some GTA next level, huh?”

“More like P-G-TA!” He grabbed the lamppost and held the cart steady with his other arm, hauling it into the trajectory they needed to catch. The wheels screeched over the pavement, but they maintained stability without a full-on rollout and maintained speed. “I’d wager this was a lead.”

“Cheerio!” Vivi cheered.

Arf! Arf-arf! The cart rolled up beside Mystery. He gave a leap and plopped right into the back of the cart, among the packed merchandise. He set his front paws on a sealed box and stood tall, tongue hanging and the breeze sweeping through his mane.

“We’re not gaining much,” Lewis noted. He shoved off his backpack and began digging inside.

Ruff! Mystery popped his head in the front seat, and leaned his snout up toward Lewis. Woof.

“Oh, thanks.” Lewis took the rolled up twine, likely for prizes at the game district. He took the end and skillfully tied a small knot, then slipped a loop of twine through. “Keep us steady.”

“You can’t lug Arthur out of the cart, at thirty miles an hour!” She ground her teeth together while swerving, skillfully avoiding a pack of teens. Her palms slapped the helm as she regained stability, and pulled up straight.

“I want to lasso that guy, or stall him.” Lewis fitted the loose end of twine in his hand and began swinging. Someone flashed off a picture as they sped by. A short knob sat visible on the back of the cart, beside the cargo space. If he could get it snagged there, they could stall the cart. That was the plan. “In broad daylight,” he hissed.

The first two lasso throws missed by a mile, but the third was close. Too close to Arthur’s foot, sticking out of the cargo back. The yellow hair sprang up, and briefly Arthur poked his head up – the sash around his face was coming undone. Arthur tumbled over, disappearing from view momentarily. When next he did appear, it was to kick out the backpack he had been wearing.

Lewis put a pause on the cowboy antics and climbed to the other side of the cart, he leaned out and snatched up the pack.

“I think I’m gaining,” Vivi grunted, focus fully on the cart holding steady ahead of them. “The battery might be going bad.”

Mystery raised his head and bent one ear high. “Aroo?”

Lewis was busy fitting the tie into his fingers, and winding to throw the lasso once more. But Mystery’s question gave him pause, and he glanced around. Upon spying the cause for scrutiny, he swung to Vivi. “Train!”

“What?” she snapped, disbelief. Looking the way Lewis was focused, she too spied the cause for alarm. “Agh! Arthur!”

And up ahead, the level crossing signals descended onto the pathway, directly between a steadily growing swarm of people abiding by the clear warning. The chime of bells rang unrestrained, and the miniature hoot of the train tooted as it closed in on the leveled platform. The train’s speed decreased, but not on account of the approaching golfcart.

“He’s not stopping!” Vivi snapped. “The people!”

“The train!”

Bark!

Lewis clambered into the driver side and slammed his foot onto the brake. The cart wheezed and swerved, but by adjusting his weight over the frame he managed to keep it from crashing sideways. Vivi’s line of sight never broke from the other cart – as it veered around the mob of people gathered to observe the train – and barreled through the level signals. The train blared its horn but didn’t slow, and in an instant it was all over.

Vivi leaned out of the opposite side. “What happened!” She disembarked the immobile golfcart and ran toward where the train was. Lewis followed.

“No debris!” he noted. “The train didn’t stop. They made it through.”

“You sure?” Vivi gripped her shirt as she skimmed over, through the crowd and to the train tracks on the level. The train chugged by, what was worse was the waiting. “We lost them.”

The train hooted, its speed dropped considerably in the pedestrian zone. Some of the people muttered amongst themselves, perplexed entirely by the scene witnessed – Was it some sort of publicity stunt? When the last cart rattled by undiscouraged following the event, the level crossers ceased their insistent chime and hoisted skyward. Bystanders broke apart and crossed the leveled tracks, and through the mesh of faces there was absolutely no sign or indication of where the golfcart or the googly-eyed reptile scurried off to. But thankfully, there was no sign of ruble or plastic, let alone metal. The cart made a clean getaway, and for once they were grateful.

For the time, that is.

Mystery whined.

“It’s all right.” She knelt and hugged the pup around his shoulders. “My fault. I should’ve been watching.”

Lewis took a breath and exhaled. “Hang in there, Art. We’ll come get you.” He leaned over and tapped Vivi on the shoulder. “Let’s get the car, see if Mystery can pick up the trail before it gets too cold.”

The Dinosaur mask could pass for a mythical lizard, or a dragon. Yeah, a mighty dragon, driving through the park on his way to do maintenance. He sped beneath the archway designating the new district, the Mythical Plateau full of attractions themed after regions of the world and local creatures that prowled the forests, mountains, or swam through the lakes. The castle was an eye-catching landmark, but it had a back access barred off from visitors. An easy optical illusion barred access, unless someone knew what to look for or how to find it. The illusive entry was not the only barrier eluding park guests.

He drove the cart down the curving slope and into a space built out beneath the road, where a metal gate stood impenetrable. Closer inspection would reveal the lock wasn’t fastened, and needed minor manipulation to open the padlock latch. But there was nothing down in this area, the location was off limits to civilians, and impossible to navigate without a light. No one but project-coaches knew about this space, let alone the stories it could tell.

He heaved the gate open, the wheels beneath the barrier creaked as they eased the thick metal along its tract. Returning to the cart, he drove it the next few feet through the small opening allowed. After shutting the door enough, he returned to the cart and snapped the headlamps on.

It was a short ride on the circular ramp, which transported loose supplies and attraction décor to an upper floor, this level elevated alongside the surrounding park. The road led up into the interior of the elaborate castle, an faux edifice that was completely hollow, its entire frontal display a façade. The interior construction ventured back several meters, where more of the outdated machines could be stored; train carts from rollercoasters, single vehicles from the rides, and unused vehicles. Likewise, mannequins or other creature statues got stashed away, among the disassembled portions of large statue pieces, along with props or entire furniture sets.

After a few minutes, the golfcart was eased to a halt. The dust from the storage chamber swirled in the lamp lights. Deep within the plaster chambers of the castle fortress, noises from the surrounding world pilfered through, muffled.

The masked man reached to the ceiling of the cart and clicked on a miniscule light, the contribution didn’t assist much in visibility. It did offer some definition to the edges of the cart, its seats, and the passengers. The masked man climbed out and went to the back, where Arthur lay in the cargo bin. He hauled the prone figure out and dumped him on the ground. Arthur grunted through the bind across his jaw, snorting at the dust and blinking.

“Fuhh!” He tried to roll over and get up, but his ankles constricted any beneficial movement. At the cart, the figure fumbled around, noisily.

“Where is it? The part!” The masked person scrambled over to where Arthur wriggled and grabbed him by the shoulder. The reptile mask had wacky eyes, a stiff snout, and the jaw bounced out of sync with all verbal demands. The rest of his full-bodied disguise was pleather with printed scales, in blue and green patterns. “What’d you do with it? Your backpack! Where is it?”

Arthur sneezed, and rolled his eyes. This guy was a dumbass.

“Oh,” said the guy. “You must’ve dumped it off the side, did you? Crafty.” He dropped Arthur once again, and left him in the dust. The pleathered suited jerk hurried across the floor to a drape, covering a tall heap on the floor. “You’ll regret that.” He pulled the tarp back, revealing… something.

With the shitty light, Arthur couldn’t make out much. He glared, uncertain what the guy was up to. He had a suspicion, but the specifics were lost on him. He shifted his legs closer to the wheel rim of the golf cart – he wasn’t bound by rope. It was cloth, easy to cut and fix, within hasty time constraints. It could be sheared, with time constraints.

“Antrodemus.” At the spoken word, a sound vibrated against the hollowed walls of the interior building. Of where they were, no dimensions could be defined by Arthur – noises came through. And now, this sound. A whirring, and creaking… was that a growl?

What really did he expect?

The animatronic dinosaur rasped as its hydraulics kicked to life. With a hiss, it rose from its lying stance and hefted upward to its full height. The masked figure back-peddled a few feet, as the tarp covering it slithered away. Glint and flashes of light glanced off the outline of the figure, it loomed in the drab mud of space, a vague heap. Below it, a self-sustained light shimmered – the shape and interaction with masked figure, indicated a phone of palm pilot.

A connection sparked in Arthur’s mind. He paid careful attention, already working through the details the person skimmed through on the display face. He sneezed.

After a short sequence or exchange, the Allosaur creaked to face Arthur – the eyes in its head glinted. He gaped at it, mind fluttering with the prospects for his survival. The Allosaur marched over, and Arthur made the valiant effort to kick away; somehow he had to escape. Where was Lewis and Vivi? Why hadn’t Mystery located him yet? He gargled, trying for a scream—

Talons the size of butcher knives looped around his shoulders and lifted him upwards. Panicked proper, Arthur twisted and kicked like a deranged merman. The animatronic ceased movement at least. But he remained clamped tight within its not PG serrated claws.

Below, some shuffling and movement closed in, though the dino-animatronic remained static. Hands shoved into Arthur’s pockets, padding him down, grabbing at his vest. Arthur struggled more, and managed to smack the guy in his crummy dinosaur masked face. The dude crumpled sideways, dazed. A good shot! But he hadn’t intended to actually hit the guy, not while he was trapped in this position with a giant meat grinding puppet looming. The Allosaur watched with all the interest of a blank television screen.

“Argh!” The masked man wobbled as he tried to stand, a hand capped to the side of his snout. “Don’t test me! Antrodemus can bench press a car, and he has no restrictors. I’ll have him turn you into a gooey, soggy pretzel before the suns sets.”

Arthur swallowed around the sash in his mouth. The portion of the blindfold over his face pressed uncomfortably into his eye, causing it to weep.

The man finished searching his pockets, and located one cell phone, a package of pepperoni snacks, his lockpick set, a lighter, a graphing calculator, two magazines, and a flashlight. The vandal rolled everything up to the best of his ability between the magazines, and gave Arthur a look that couldn’t be conveyed through the dopey reptile mask.

“How the hell did you have all this crap on you?”

Arthur grimaced. “Mah-Ick.”

“Well,” the guy said, as he went over to the golf cart. “Antrodemus. Execute command: Freeze. Confirm.”

The Allosaur wheezed. The servos and hydraulics through its torso shifted, settling the entire animatronic in place.

“Antrodemus. If no reset supplied, then Execute command: Movement. Pursuit.” He set the magazine burrito onto the golf cart bin, and took out his own phone. After some tweaking over the screen, he spoke, “This will be your only warning. If you try to get away, I won’t be responsible for what happens. What will happen, if you try to run? That, you will have to figure out for yourself. I’ll put it this way,” he began walking, “I don’t recommend testing Antrodemus.”

Arthur’s glare persisted, until the masked jerk’s silhouette fully dissolved into the murk of the interior chamber. The questions swarmed his mind: What was he planning? and What about his friends? They were in danger, but at least the Allosaur was off the playing board for the time. That was his only comfort. There was still a great deal that could be done, in his absence. If this guy could control the Allosaur, likely built the damn thing, then he was more versatile in terms of the theme parks functions.

It was too soon to try and work towards escaping. The guy wasn’t stupid, but he might be careless now. He needed to hold on for a while longer, think about a plan for if once he got free. There was time to think and plot, secure a safe escape. Reset and Movement. Those keywords. What did they mean? They were triggers, designated to erupt the marionette into action.

To the Allosaur. What did it mean?

He turned his eyes up. In the dim, piss poor light the Allosaur remained unmoving, frozen and gazing off in the same state the other animatronics undertook when they were deactivated. Likely a sleep mode. He shifted his focus to the abandoned golf cart, and the lights. The atmosphere abound was bleak, no penetrating shapes or suggestions of form aside from what gleamed against the dull illuminations of the abandoned cart. The present golf cart didn’t offer enough, and to test any theories would test recapture. That depended on how much battery life the vehicle had.

A more terrible thought occurred to Arthur, and his breathing hiked up. What would happen if the Allosaur locked onto movement, while it was still latched onto him? It was not a ‘thinking’ machine, it was a ‘respond to’ machine.

#mystery skulls #mystery skulls ghost #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #msa fanfic #msa fanfiction #mystery skulls lewis #msa!Alive Lewis #mystery skulls mystery #mystery skulls vivi #mystery skulls arthur

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miss-m-calling · 4 years ago

Text

Chocolate Box 2021 letter

Dear writer,

Hello and thank you for writing for me!

I’m Miss_M on AO3. For all requests, I am asking for fic.

My requests this year are: American Gods (TV), The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV), Starred Up (2013 movie), Witchblade (TV), and Бeсa ǀ Besa (TV)

General likes:

-pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and missing-scene stories

-character-driven as well as plot-driven stories

-fics which mix humor and angst/serious business (when this fits the canon)

-characters at work and play

-group dynamics, family dynamics (including constructed families), professional partnerships, friendships, alliances, rivalries, intimate couples (new lovers/first times as well as long-term/established couples), UST-ridden couples who are not just UST-ridden but connected in other ways too

-irony, snark, humor, angst -- all arising from the characters rather than the plot crowbaring it in

-linear, non-linear, and 5+1 stories

-hopeful endings, happy endings, bittersweet endings, “everything is awful but you’re here and maybe I don’t entirely hate that” endings

-worldbuilding

-spiky characters who keep their jagged edges and spikiness in adversity as well as when their lives are going well, square-peg-in-round-hole characters, tough characters with (maybe not so well) hidden vulnerabilities, characters who are their own worst enemies, characters who manage to get over themselves when the occasion calls for it, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other, characters who may not be exactly friends and may well irritate one another but manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise/reluctance/discomfort), characters who just cannot get along with each other or find common ground

-workplace stories (this can mean anything from an actual workplace/casefic/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters get to be competent

Shippy and smutty likes:

-(where it fits the characters) banter

-competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved)

-”oh god why did it have to be you what did I do to deserve this“

-”come here and say it to my face/do that again/kiss me, you motherfucker”

-bickering yet loving couples

-characters who are serious about their romantic interests

-characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are

-characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed

-fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping

-characters who are incompatible in some important way (they are ideological enemies, cop and criminal, spies from opposite sides, or there has been betrayal!!!), and while they love and/or want each other, they’re not willing to change sides or abandon/compromise their identity/beliefs for the other’s benefit

-I don’t know how better to phrase this than: smut which fits the characters; how does their canon dynamics spill over into hubba hubba stuff?

-sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves

-sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition or antagonism

-"this is a bad idea but we’re going for it hammer and tongs”

-not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not

-characters getting way more into the sex or being more affected by it than they thought they would

-quick and intense sex, slow and intense sex, rough yet willing sex (when it fits the characters), unexpectedly emotional and/or tender sex

-masturbation while thinking of the other half of the ship (or not wanting to think about them only oops there they are in the fantasy!)

-first time sex

-established relationship, we-know-each-other-so-well sex

-”we’ve both wanted this and now we both know it so here we go diving in headfirst” sex

-for het and/or slash, oral, vaginal, anal incl. pegging, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) -- all is good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon – I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” or “clit” sexy.

Ship/smut DNWs:

MPREG, A/B/O, knotting D/s, formalized BDSM, painful sex, hard kinks (holding someone down playfully, hair pulling and such like, the odd spank are a-OK) scat, watersports knife/gun/blood play incest deaging/infantilization, mommy/daddy kink under-16yos in sexual situations humiliation body distortion/horror (feeding/weight kink, come inflation, vore, etc.) unrequested ships/pairings soulmates and soul marks pregnancy and children (can be mentioned if canon, just don’t make the whole fic about them) wedding setting/theme secondary characters shipping the main pair like it’s their job xeno, tentacles, bestiality noncon/dubcon

Other DNWs:

torture and abuse (this and noncon/dubcon can be mentioned, but please don’t dwell on it in loving detail or subject any of my requested characters to it) descriptions of vomit, shit, and piss (”He pissed up against a tree” and the like is fine), toilet humor lots of gore/blood (mention it, yes; lovingly describe it, no), cannibalism, serious illness or injury character bashing genderswap/genderbent characters, characters as kids/young teens issuefic, gender/sexuality/race/ethnicity/religion/ability/identity headcanons death of requested characters hopeless, unrelenting gloom/angst/horror RL holiday setting/theme, RL religions as a major theme (invented fictional holidays and rituals are fine) reference to RL current events 1st and 2nd person POV unrequested crossovers or fusions AUs which have nothing to do with canon fic written in lapslock

FANDOMS:

American Gods (TV)

Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney

I ship it. Yes I do. They had me at “gimme-my-coin-dead-wife”-flicks-him-into-wall. The snarky road trip was the best thing I never knew I wanted until it happened, and I adored every second of it, not to mention the upped shippiness in S2. They’re both such assholes and so fascinating, even if they start to mellow toward each other a bit, and all the gods/magic/resurrection stuff swirling around them begs to be explored further. Also I love love love how their dynamic is about equal parts spikiness, pathos, and humor (they’re funny! and the canon doesn’t shy away from putting them in ludicrous situations), and it weaves seamlessly between those three. Plus she’s half his size yet can and does beat him up with literally one finger, and then there’s the angst of he having killed her, feeling really guilty about it, and then bringing her back. And the way that their New Orleans adventure makes clear they have feelings for each other but neither wants to admit it. And and and… yeah, I just love them.

Even if some of my prompts are about stuff that’s addressed or hinted at in canon, feel free to diverge – canon divergences and canon-adjacent stories are my jam, as are missing scenes and post-canon stories! Also, I’ve read the book, so feel free to riff on that if you want.

Canon-specific DNWs: Laura as Essie or Sweeney's wife's reincarnation/descendant or lots of comparing her to them, Sweeney staying dead, any S3 spoilers.

Exception to blanket DNW about blood/gore/bodily fluids: describing the physical decay of the living undead (undead? there but for the grace of magic coins dead?) is fine!

Prompts:

-Laura discovers (how? you decide!) that Sweeney gave her back the coin after their accident – whatever happens next, some punching may be involved.

-Wednesday’s big war finally comes, and “don’t you dare die on me [again], you asshole” is a line either Sweeney or Laura (or both) might say to each other.

-Laura asked “What does Wednesday have to lose?” and the answer is…? (Yes, give me that sweet poetic justice. One possibility, though not remotely the only one, but as of S2E3 Laura is technically a god-killer...) Or later when she straight-up says she’s going to kill Wednesday, but is warned to bring power with her when she does, how does that work? How else might she damage Wednesday or ruin his plans, just in case she can’t actually kill him?

-At the end of S2, Laura hoists Sweeney’s dead body over her shoulders and strides off, seemingly leaving Cairo, Shadow, and all of it behind. Tell me what happens then – does she use Baron Samedi’s potion to bring him back, and whose is the blood filled with love she uses (does she still bleed? You could get creative here, worldbuilding is also my jam)? Does her/his coin play a part – and how come the coin still “powers” Laura despite Sweeney’s death? Does she bring him back another way, maybe figuring out how to keep herself around and be able to give Sweeney back his coin? Does he come back like she did, more undead than alive, or does his godhead, however depleted, help with that? That still leaves Laura to be fully resurrected too… Or does something completely out of left field happen – surprise me!

-Possible divergences from “Treasure of the Sun”: Sweeney manages to kill Wednesday, and then Laura rolls up, and then…? Or Laura rolls up and makes like Mama-Ji told her – destroys some motherfuckers? Or Sweeney gets killed temporarily but Laura brings him back, or brings herself back, or does something else with the Baron’s potion, and is Sweeney’s blood the one filled with love, or can we interpret voodoo spells in a non-literal way? Or what happens with Gungnir hidden in Sweeney’s hoard? And definitely how do they deal with each other once they meet up in Cairo, given how they parted in New Orleans?

-Or how about a wild divergence from the last several episodes of S2? Sweeney and Laura manage to settle their differences (ahem, more fucking, on this plane of reality, might help) and don’t part ways before leaving NOLA. Or they roll up in Cairo separately but at the same time, and confront Wednesday together, and neither of them die (or die more, in her case). Or they’re there together when the police nearly raid the house. Or they have Wednesday (the ultimate cause of Laura’s death) and Ibis (a death deity) and Bilquis (a love/death/life deity) on hand, surely they can concoct some kind of resurrection thingamajig for Laura, and if they have to twist some divine arms then so be it. Or or or…?

-Wednesday told that luckless cop that Sweeney had been against the big gods’ war from the start, and while Wednesday lies, what if Sweeney decided much sooner to say to hell with Grimnir and his war and his having Sweeney kill random people? I’m guessing Sweeney too drank three glasses of mead so he can’t back out without dire consequence – but he does have a fierce, dead woman in his corner.

-They go to some as-yet-unnamed old god (feel free to bring in whatever mythology you want) in order to bring Laura back to life. Between Sweeney’s mouth and temper, and Laura’s mouth and temper, it doesn’t go well. Now one or both of them are in big magical trouble with a pissed-off deity and have to get themselves/each other out of it. Speaking of other deities, I really enjoyed their brief canon interactions with Ostara, Anansi, and Mama-Ji, and I’d like to see more of that, especially Ostara’s polite yet over-it attitude, Anansi very obvious over-it attitude and his dramatic flair, or Mama-Ji being one of the few capable of giving Laura pause.

-All the petty, ridiculous ways in which Sweeney’s bad luck manifests itself make me laugh (can’t help it, won’t even try), and I’m down for more variations on that theme.

-Sweeney and Laura fighting together, like they did on Mr. Town’s train of torture. Whether it’s a bar fight of their own making, or the big gods’ war they find themselves embroiled in, or something else entirely.

-Things happen and Laura finds herself in the position to throw Sweeney under the bus but also help/save him, and while he knows it’s only karma (he did kill her way back when), he can still be pissed off about it – how do they navigate this?

-Related to that, the Baron said: “In death is her true love, but she betrays him also.” If that meant Sweeney, or can mean Sweeney in the future (I don’t like destiny-wills-it stories, and they’re definitely not there yet, but they could maybe get there at some future point, and even then It Would Be Complicated), was the betrayal Laura rejecting him after the loa ‘fuck them,’ or is it something that hasn’t happened yet, and if so, what?

-Laura gets fully alive again, but traces of her (un)dead state remain – what are they, how does she cope, what price did she/he/they have to pay for her resurrection, and how does their relationship change? I’d especially be curious how it would work if they’re already a sorta-maybe-item and then she’s alive again and it’s weird in a new way.

-For reasons I’ll leave up to you, Sweeney and Laura have to stay put in a single place for a while and end up essentially cohabiting, regardless of what their relationship is at that point. Take “cohabiting” as literally or as creatively as you want – in any case, I’m sure it will be marvelously disastrous and amazing. If the place they have to stay happens to be NOLA, all the better, I find everything about that city fascinating. Or, if you wanted to use book canon, Laura and Sweeney (rather than Shadow) are the ones who have to spend time living in Lakeside and deal with its creepy Norman Rockwell-ness and with Hinzelmann.

-Slight or major AU from the opening of “The Ways of the Dead”: Laura has hitchhiked with Sweeney instead of going off in a huff with Wednesday, or she otherwise gets to New Orleans sooner, and she and Sweeney tear up the town together. Maybe they even cross the paths of some loa and it doesn’t get all angsty. They were actually getting along nicely in those first couple of scenes in NOLA, only ribbing each other a little while still being their grouchy selves, before they got to Le Coq Noir. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some more of that.

-AU from the end of “The Ways of the Dead”: they still have their big fight (which was amazing as well as painful) or some variation thereof, but they don’t split up. (Maybe the reason is as mundane as Sweeney refusing to get left behind or they have a shared ride out of town, or maybe the more time passes the less Sweeney can afford to be far from his coin – or maybe the coin needs him close by to work at full capacity.) And then what?

-All the old gods hide their true appearance to an extent. A situation arises in which Laura sees Sweeney’s true, or at least old, self. Or Wednesday’s war ends in victory, meaning the old gods again get belief, worship, and sacrifices. How does Laura, the ultimate skeptic even when she’s on the other side of the mirror, react? How does this new knowledge and new reality change her opinion of/attitude to Sweeney? Or to flip that around, if Sweeney were again relevant and believed-in, would that actually change his bad attitude and fix his issues (my guess is it would be complicated)? On that note, Sweeney’s decline from Lugh to king to leprechaun was more sketched in than really explored in canon, ditto I didn’t really get why he couldn’t seem to remember his own history except in snatches (the curse that made him a bird/madman of the woods?) – I’d love to see more about it and his (not) dealing with it, or with a reversal of that decline. Eorann told him long ago to adapt and change with the times – but what does that mean after humpteen centuries in a rut and becoming used to always feeling angry and unappreciated?

-The power of names, since they never use each other’s in canon: for all his “dead wifeing,” there comes a time when Sweeney (has to) call her by her actual name, and that’s a tricky moment for them to navigate. Or, Mad Sweeney is not his actual name, and true names have great magical power and so must be kept secret; Laura discovers or learns his name, from someone else or from himself; what does she do with that knowledge? Or, Sweeney gets to say “cunt” in a situation (sexual or otherwise) where, not only does Laura not peel his lips from his gums, but she finds that she can’t object, even though she knows that he knows that he’s getting away with it.

-They’re both so complicated and contradictory and spiky, but they also start to care and rely on each other - and react really badly when they (think the other one) betrayed them. I would like to see those nuances explored some more and/or to see Laura and Sweeney get to a point where they trust each other and rely on each other, and know it and accept it, however difficult the getting there and being there may be for them.

-Sweeney and Laura get drunk and wake up married. Or some sex and/or blood resurrection spell results in basically an unbreakable marriage bond, whether it also secures resurrection or not. Or marrying the dead keeps them (sorta) alive. Or being married makes it possible for them to share magical/supernatural abilities. They’re both pissed about it, but secretly having to make it work may not be the worst thing that’s ever happened...

-My perfect AG spinoff would basically be Sweeney and Laura tooling around America, looking to get her resurrected (whether they succeed or not is up to you), stealing ever more ridiculous vehicles, arguing/fighting and having those pesky moments where vulnerability and genuineness creep in – and fucking. So yessiree I’d be down for porn, including “it’s technically necrophilia/zombiesex” porn, including a canon-divergent first time, or their second time, or all the later times after they had their first time in NOLA in canon.

-If you wanted to throw in some worldbuilding, maybe something exploring living death. Magical bargains. What kind of favor did Sweeney do for Ostara that would be worth her bringing someone back to life as repayment? What other powers might Sweeney have – or have left from when he was Lugh? How long can a dead wife keep going before she’s “soup”? What other superhuman abilities might dead!Laura have? Can the dead do magic? What even are the rules governing and the limits of different beings’ magical abilities? For example, why can’t Sweeney just take his coin back, or why does Laura gain super-strength as part of her undead package deal? Is the hoard in the same space as the behind-the-scenes accessed through the merry-go-round, or it’s a different place? Why does the coin seem to start to “run down” the longer Laura has it? Why did Wednesday need Laura to kill Argus when he killed Vulcan himself just fine? What happens with Gungnir now it’s in the hoard – can only Sweeney get to it, has it been transformed somehow (it’s now the treasure of the sun), etc.?

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

Lenny Bruce & Miriam “Midge” Maisel & Susie Myerson

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel & Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

I’m here for Midge’s adventures in the intoxicating, foul-mouthed, and often-frustrating world of comedy, so her dynamic with Susie and Lenny is where it’s at. Shippy or platonic, I just love the interactions between these three, and between every pair combination among them: Midge and Susie bantering and swearing and tits-upping even when they irritate each other, Midge and Lenny bringing the pathos as well as the humor, and Lenny and Susie both being hardened old pros with still a little glimmer of starry eyes. I am good with L/M/S or L&M&S or L/M & M/S – so, if you go the shippy route, either a V-shaped triad or hey, Susie (whom I absolutely read as gay) might find a way to be good with a full-on triangle… If you want to keep it platonic, True Companions all the way, always there for each other, even when they want to strangle each other. And as much as I like the comedy inherent in the characters, I also love that they’re all three, each in their own way, messed up people and dysfunctional to various degrees. So yeah, I just want Midge to hand the kids over to her parents, ditch Joel once and for all, marry (interpret that as literally or as loosely as you want) both Susie and Lenny, and for the three of them to ride off into the sunset to make comedy history.

Canon-specific DNWs: explicit sex (so nothing above M rating for sex), pairing any two as a / couple with the third as a & hanger-on, Lenny can still be his RL messed-up, drugged-up self – albeit the gentler version the show gives us – but I don’t want him dying if your fic is set in 1966 or after.

Prompts (most of these are from before S3 dropped, feel free to work with canon or diverge however you see fit -- I am all caught up with S3):

-Does Susie manage them both? Does Midge open for Lenny on tour? Does he open for her??? Or they become equal stars on the comedy circuit?

-Maybe Lenny joins Shy Baldwin’s tour, or they run into him while touring Europe or the US, or after Shy fires Midge, Midge and Susie cobble together a Midge-only tour of America and keep crossing Lenny’s own touring path, and they all tool around, and yes I would love as much period detail and geography porn as you can throw at me. And while Lenny and Midge have seen the world, Susie hasn’t – her reaction to different foods, languages, customs, landscapes would be spectacular to witness. Especially if “different” is someplace as close to New York as Jersey or Connecticut, or someplace as far away and different as, say, Japan.

-If they do go to Europe, somehow or other they also tour the Soviet Bloc. Cue culture clashes, getting followed (or thinking they’re being followed) by the secret police, getting hammered on vodka and herring and pickles, and then when they get back to the States, the Feds grill them. It’s all dead serious, and Midge and Lenny refuse to take it as seriously as they should, while Susie is trying but the whole thing is really pissing her off…

-Lenny’s burned out, and Midge is just getting started. This dissonance may or may not find some sort of resolution. One thing’s for sure: Susie has limited patience for both Lenny’s depression and Midge’s need to make everything pretty.

-Instead of going to Joel for a no-way-is-that-closure fling after the Steve Allen Show taping, Midge goes to have a drink or seven with the two people who have, in their own ways, always been there for her and never let her down.

-Midge goes on TV again, this time as the star: longer set, prime time slot, dressing room, the works. She’s dying of nerves. Lenny and Susie coach her through it.

-More radio work to make ends meet in between gigs: hilaribad period ads, hilaribad radio drama, running all over town to be on time, getting paid in all kinds of dubious merch…

-Midge and Susie head out west to make it big and stay with Lenny once they’re in Los Angeles, and it’s marvelous (ha ha) and disastrous in equal measure.

-More of Susie being the hypercompetent manager we saw especially in S3! (And please don’t dwell on her gambling problem, I was not a fan.)

-They all three get drunk, maybe with a hint of sadness if it’s the holidays (you can ignore my DNW about holidays, but please let that be just the background, not the lynchpin of the story) or someone’s birthday, and there’s a bar fight, running from the cops, eating greasy food at ass o’clock, and possibly kissing, not necessarily in that order.

-One or two or all three of them get arrested/have court appearances all over America and have to bail each other out, or find someone to bail them all out, or secure legal counsel – you get the drift. Or all three of them are trying to explain to a single lawyer what happened, talking over each other, the two pros not being able to resist landing zingers and Susie not being far behind, and the lawyer just getting more and more confused.

-They get in trouble some other way – offended patrons, surly management, shitty hotels, tour bus breaks down in the middle of Wyoming – and have to have each other’s backs because no one else will.

-Three-person road trip or tour, and only Susie knows how to drive. So Midge decides to learn, right then and there. And Lenny… Lenny may or may not be too lazy/hungover/lying about not knowing how. There’s supposed to be a rotation so everyone gets to stretch out on the back seat for equal lengths of time, but you know the system doesn’t work too well in practice. Also, they play games in the car to while away the time, and they do it their own way of course: I spy, cows on my side, yellow car, never have I ever, 20 questions, or riffing on whatever’s playing on the radio…

-They sit down to watch the moon landing (you can move it up a bit so it’s not happening a whole decade after S2) – by which I mean, Midge is all gung-ho about the moon landing, and Lenny and Susie are like whatever – and things don’t quite go to plan, but a good time is eventually had by all.

-It’s Yom Kippur again, and Midge wants to do the whole production: synagogue, breaking fast, the lot. Lenny and Susie would rather eat glass. Midge gets her way, of course. Does she decide to bring Susie and Lenny home to meet – or meet properly – her parents??? I bet Abe and Rose’s reactions would be something to see. (This too is an exception to my DNW about holiday settings – I just want stuff to get as crazy as it did the two times we saw Yom Kippur celebrated on the show, and for everything to still somehow turn out relatively OK.)

-Midge and Lenny have cheered each other up when the going got extra rough. I want for Susie to be especially down in the dumps – maybe her boozehound of a mother died and Susie took it worse than she does in canon, maybe some asshole told her she’s a shit manager and got her right in her insecurities – and Midge to rope Lenny into trying to cheer her up. And for Susie to fight them every step of the way but still be glad they care enough to try.

-Inspired by Susie’s brother looking just like her, by which I mean she and he and their sister look nothing alike, and by Lenny’s “she’s my mother” quip about Midge at the TV studio and then his “let me introduce my wife or maybe my sister” in Miami – Midge, Susie, and Lenny pretend to all be blood relatives, or mafiosi, or spies, or something else they’re not, while out in public, say in a restaurant. Just to be assholes and see how long they can keep it going before they break character or people figure them out, or call the cops, or something. There’s totally a bet on who corpses and breaks character first. Or, nice hotels ca. 1960 weren’t very big on letting unmarried couples, let alone threesomes stay in rooms together – pretending to be family might make that easier; forgetting what they’re meant to be to each other, or mixing up their backstories might make it harder. This could also work platonically, if they’re trying to save money by only getting one room, there only being one free room in the hotel, or for any other screwball reason you can invent.

-Lenny and Midge do a (comeback) tour of the Borscht Belt, and all the Steiner Mountain Resort guests (especially the gossipy old hens from the beauty salon) and staff go to see them – and heckle.

-Stuff happens and they end up performing at some hole in the wall place where no one knows who they are (or no one believes it’s really those people they’ve seen on TV) – tough crowd, but a good workout for the two comics, and if Susie gets to threaten to rip off someone’s head, all the better.

-Lenny and Midge honing their routines – and maybe developing a double act – and Susie being all “oh my fucking god, what the fuck!!! … They’re actually good. I’m so proud.”

-Sharing a bed with two other people is an ongoing project: who sleeps (or refuses to sleep) in the middle? Who gets up during the night and why? Who starfishes across most of the bed? Who snores, and how does this get handled? If alcohol or pot have happened, how does that affect the sleeping arrangements? Also, Susie and Lenny witness and react to Midge’s beauty routine, ‘nuff said. Or, for various reasons one person after another ends up decamping to another room/bed/couch, but it doesn’t help them get much sleep or even stay there very long (this is inspired by my love of Shirley Jackson and her short story/humorous essay “The Night We All Had Grippe”). If you prefer to keep it platonic, most of this would work if they’re just sharing a double bedroom on tour (I leave the reason for why Lenny is bunking with the women up to you).

Starred Up (2013 movie)

Oliver Baumer/Eric Love

Yes I do ship it, I do, I do!

Ahem. Don’t get me wrong, I liked what the movie did with the father-son relationship and its influence on both men’s character development – but I really wish they hadn’t got Oliver out of the action before the story’s climax (not like that!). The final denouement with Love father and Love son was great, as was the hint at the end that Eric learned something in anger-management group and has a support network that will help him a lot. But. I would have wanted to see more of the intriguing dynamic between Eric the intelligent, semi-feral, yet not-incorrigible, young thug and Oliver the educated, dedicated, kind yet aware of his own potential for violence (what was he on about with “I need to be here”?), slightly older counselor. They had me at Oliver’s “I want him” and Eric later telling his father that Oliver’s a better man than Love Sr. Also the not-flirting and the push-pull in the scene when Oliver picks up Eric from his cell - yowza!

Exception to blanket DNW: dubcon is a-okay! If you decide to go there, my preferred flavors of dubcon for this canon are: power differential makes it a bad idea but they do it anyway; “I know you want this”; “if the answer’s no/you’re only doing this for a dare or to prove a point, then why are you enjoying this so much [as am I]?”; no no yes a.k.a. starts as dubcon (or one of them thinks they’re dubconning the other), becomes enthusiastic consent.

Also, if this is relevant or makes you nervous about writing for me, Eric would be 18-19, and Oliver is maybe 10-12 years older – and I like it!!! (The actors were 22 and 31 when the movie was made, FWIW.)

Prompts:

-I would love to see Oliver return to holding his group in prison, so the two of them can interact more, either in the movie’s immediate aftermath or years down the line, as it’s implied that Eric will be serving a long sentence. Give me more scenes from anger management or the ribald, honest, free-flowing conversations in group, either with the other men present (I liked Hassan and Tyrone especially, among the group members) or a one-on-one session.

-An oblique or open-but-undramatic admission/declaration that they both know there’s something there, even if they don’t know what to do with it. Or, one or both of them knows exactly what to do with it, and the push-pull that would result from that.

-Dirty talk: used for arousal, as a defense mechanism, as a form of flirtation. Eric using slurs to assert dominance, and Oliver not letting him hide behind profanity, when he can use colorful language to express emotion and/or sexual interest. There could definitely be some verbal taunting/flirting about who wants/is eager to do what or is good at doing something. There may be some sniping comments about logistics and (lack of) condoms and barebacking and what men get up to in prison. There probably wouldn’t be deep discussions about sexual identity.

-An emergency in the prison requires a lock-down, so Oliver gets temporarily stuck in Eric’s cell or another room with only Eric for company. Things get porny and/or emotional.

-Eric is eventually released (you can handwave this so it happens soon after the movie or have it happen years later) and crashes with Oliver while he adjusts to the outside world. You guessed it: things get porny and/or emotional.

-How do they get to the point where both can cross that line from friends/whatever the hell they are and become, to lovers? (There’s Eric’s personal history and general discomfort with vulnerability, plus all the ways prison sex can be or make things complicated, and if it helps, I headcanon Oliver as either gay or bi and at least somewhat closeted, at work especially.) Who initiates and “directs traffic”? How does their always-contentious dynamic shift during and after sex? Is the sex an isolated (series of) occasion(s), or a progression/escalation over multiple encounters (how would I love especially an escalating series of encounters, let me count the ways)? Eric might seem like the logical initiator and/or dominant partner as well as using the possibility of sex to manipulate and exert control, but then Oliver might (or might not!) surprise him and is definitely the one more in touch with himself as well as aware of his custodial duty toward the men in the group.

-At some point in their intimate relationship (probably not right at the start, and probably not in prison, though if you can make it happen in prison, more power to you!), Oliver decides he’s going to take his sweet time and make Eric fall absolutely apart with pleasure, while using dirty talk to both arouse and empower Eric to own his desires – by that point, Eric is in a place where he can let that happen and enjoy it, even if he still talks tough.

-Or how about this: Eric gets out, relationship happens or is in the process of being negotiated, and while physical intimacy is a whooooole neeeeeew woooorld, you know what else would be cool? Phone sex. Yep. Or even, Eric gets himself one of those secret prison burner phones (preferably hidden somewhere that’s not someone’s arse), and… phone sex after lights-out and lock-down. Maybe nothing (much) has happened physically (yet), so phone sex can be a building block to that or one facet of that deepening intimacy.

Witchblade (TV) Sara Pezzini/Danny Woo

Sara Pezzini & Danny Woo

I used to love this show back in the day, and loved it again in all its hokey gloriousness when I rewatched it recently. Sara figuring things out and being a principled badass, but maybe out of her depth with the Witchblade, and her dynamic with Danny, whether he's a ghost or alive, it’s all catnip to me. Sara is not extremely quippy, she has a job to do dammit! and don’t look at her vulnerable side, just don’t look at it!, and I love that about her (she’s much harsher in S1, after Danny’s death, than in S2); ditto that Danny is somewhat softer than she is, but still can hold his own thanksverymuch (well, when the plot doesn’t require him to get nabbed by bad guys) and has a bit of a deadpan snarker side too. I’d love something that plays around with their canon dynamic from either season, or uses canon as just a starting point. Gen is good, shippy (incl. porny) is good. Some of my prompts lean dark or horror-y, so don’t be shy about going there; I’d also enjoy a story in which the Witchblade itself ends up not being very significant (say, they start to investigate a possibly mystical case and then nope, plain murder). BTW I really like Conchobar too, so if you want to include him (that means also Conchobar Lives AUs), his relationship (current or past) with Sara, or his canonical death somehow, go for it!

Canon-specific DNWs: Irons and any version of Nottingham appearing (you can mention them if you need to).

Exception to blanket DNW: dubcon is fine (see first prompt).

Prompts:

-The Witchblade is more parasitic than symbiotic, and instead of Sara learning to control it, its feeding on Sara affects her more and more over time. Or, the visions and dreams ramp up into full-blown paranoia and/or disassociation. The Witchblade's POV, maybe (it is sentient)? Asking for help is the hardest thing for someone like Sara, but what are (more than) friends for? I’d also enjoy a dubcon scenario where Sara really shouldn’t be having sex when her head is all messed up by the Witchblade’s influence, but… well… they do. The Witchblade canonically enjoys violence and bloodshed perpetrated by its wearers, so it stands to reason that it might lower other inhibitions too.

-Witchblade v. mythological monsters. In S1, even with everything else that's going on, Sara absolutely scoffs at the possibility of vampires. So of course I want: Witchblade v. vampires! The scarier and more feral, the better. Or, it's implied that the Witchblade was forged from a meteorite, so it's basically an eldritch artefact from outer space. Yes, please lean all the way into the Lovecraftian tropes! (The moon is turning red, the Old Ones are back, it’s the end of the world as we know it, but Sara’s got her partner by her side.) Or something from Chinese mythology, so Danny can kick extra ass. Or, for a silly take on Chinese culture: Sara and Danny in the world of Big Trouble in Little China (another old fave of mine, the entire plot of which revolves around… a woman with green eyes and an unwanted connection to the supernatural).

-The Witchblade has a reputation for abandoning its wearers just when they need it the most. True to form, it slips off of Sara’s fist, leaving her and Danny to save themselves with good old-fashioned guns, fisticuffs, martial arts, and of course having each other’s back.

-More of the psychedelic-ness in many of Sara’s fight scenes, where now she’s a woman in a leather jacket with a gauntlet on her arm, now she’s a knight in armor! Now her opponent is human, now he’s a wolf-shaped spirit of evil and hatred! Playing around with the characters’ senses and perceptions – yes!

-Instead of seeing only Danny and needing him to play intermediary for Sara to talk to other ghosts, the Witchblade makes Sara see ghosts all over the place, and it's getting to her. Ghost!Danny may or may not help with that. Or, ghost!Danny is basically always around, whether Sara can see him or not. He manifests when Sara is masturbating, and you can't really feel guilty if the ghost of your dead partner whom you’ve always had a thing for helps you out, and anyway you’re probably going crazy and none of this is real, so it doesn’t count anyway... right?

-Case fic/stakeouts and banter. Flirting/ribbing/joshing to pass the long and stressful days at work.

-Quick and guilty sex because Danny's married. Slow and intense sex if handwave he's not married but “oh noes we’re partners, we shouldn’t be doing this, but somehow we keep doing it anyway.” Hooking up in the car. I've always headcanoned that they had a thing pre-canon which ended for Reasons, but they both kinda wish it hadn't, hence the hand kissing, and the “I can’t even touch you,” and the coffee bringing/stealing, etc. So feel free to play around with that.

-Undercover as married, undercover as a gangster and his moll (LOL at Sara as a moll, or have Sara as the gangster and Danny as her arm candy), undercover as “they think we’re fucking, better fake it real good for the people listening in, oops shit got real fast, careful don’t say each other’s real name or you’ll blow your cover.”

-More timey-wimey shenanigans with the Witchblade. Maybe it allows Sara to manipulate time more than once. Maybe she starts doing it way too often, throwing the continuum out of whack (something non-linear would be very interesting). Maybe she and/or Danny remember some or all of what happened in S1. Something about all the multiverse versions of them, possibly splitting off from a dramatic moment. Time loops and feelings are a combustible mix.

-Apart from the pretty obvious shippiness, what I like about S1 especially is how Sara rolls with the weirdness the Witchblade has brought into her life, instead of reaching for rational explanations. More of that (I can't think of a better way to put it), and double extra brownie points if alive!Danny figures out at least some of what's going on with Sara's bracelet and somehow gets in on the action. Maybe a Danny saves the day divergence? Or how about a loophole that allows a man close to the Witchblade's wearer to wield it temporarily, but There Is a Price to Pay.

Бeсa ǀ Besa (TV)

Dardan Berisha/Petrit Koci

Skënder Berisha & Petrit Koci

Teuta Berisha/Petrit Koci

Divna Dukić/Petrit Koci

Petrit Koci/Marija Perić

Petrit Koci/Uroš Perić

My longest of long-shot requests! If you already know and like this canon, yeeees come sit with me. If you don’t know it, here’s a quick intro: this is a crime drama, one 12-episode season so far, produced in Serbia and created by Tony Jordan of “Hustle” fame. Set in (and with a cast including actors from) several ex-Yugoslav states, the story follows three main characters: a Serbian family man and regular joe who accidentally kills the daughter of a major Kosovar Albanian crime boss in a car accident; said Albanian crime boss who coerces his daughter’s unwitting killer to start working for him as an assassin; and a half-Albanian, half-Serbian Interpol agent (Petrit Koci) who’s after the crime boss but starts investigating the regular joe turned assassin as well.

The show has a twisty plot, gritty and handsome visuals, excellent performances, and a great through-line of deconstructing Balkan machismo and patriarchal culture. All three of the main characters have an image of themselves as MEN who Provide and/or Take Care of Business and Put Family First, each in their own way, and all three end up compromising on all their principles by season’s end. The women in the show’s ‘verse sometimes become collateral damage but also assert themselves in unexpected ways, which is great. The title refers to the Albanian (but more broadly, Balkan) cultural concept that one’s promise/vow/word of honor has to be kept and carried out no matter what, at peril of losing face, dishonoring both oneself and one’s family, even death. This gets deconstructed five ways from Sunday too, and it is awesome.

If you glance at the pairings I’m requesting, I think you can guess who my favorite character is. :-) Koci is so committed to being the “good sheriff” and carrying out his professional duty regardless of whom he has to piss off along the way, but is also often quite ineffectual because the local police forces with which he has to cooperate tend to resent both his attitude and his ethnic background – not to mention that when everyone’s corrupt and compromised, the man who refuses to play the game makes lots of enemies. He’s also a real hard-ass who made a conscious choice long ago to have nothing in his life but his work, is a bit of a bastard, has a huge blind spot about gender which comes back to bite him, and ultimately is driven by a desire for personal vendetta more than an abstract commitment to justice (I love a character who is super focused on their goal and presents themselves as invulnerable, yet whose insecurities and traumas are always just beneath the surface of what drives them). And yes, by the end of the season he’s presented with a Faustian bargain and gets a huge target on his back. There’s a lot to unpack there!

I will eat up any local color you want to throw in. Ditto, the canon is super intense, but if you find a way to bring in some vintage Balkan pitch-black humor, I’m here for it. If you wanted to include some dialogue or phrases or hey write the whole fic in any variation of what used to be called Serbo-Croatian, I’m here for that with bells on! (Unless you’re writing smut – I just can’t with E-rated prose in Slavic languages, sorry.) Alas, I do not read Albanian, but if you want to include dialogue/phrases in it, go for it, so long as you tell me (in parentheses, in footnotes, whatever works) what’s going on.

Canon-specific DNW: soapboxing about Balkan history/conflicts/ethnic relations (the characters can clash about this, use stereotypes, etc. – I just don’t want the fic to be an excuse for the writer’s hot takes, ‘kay?)

Exceptions to blanket DNWs: RL current events being mentioned + dubcon *but* for M/F ships I want both characters to be motivated by anger/revenge/general existential bleakness/whathaveyou instead of or as well as lust, so just no M/f dubcon, please!

Prompts:

-Any of my requested pairings in any kind of casefic, either a divergence, something pre- or post-canon, or a side investigation spinning off from the canon’s central plot. Anything that requires Koci to again traipse all over former Yugoslavia, butt heads with everyone, interrogate people, and do that soft-spoken “you don’t want to give me what I want but you’ll do it anyway” thing he does along the way.

-Something that requires Koci to use his knowledge of Albanian language and culture even more than in canon. I love how the canon depicts the existential discomfort of never fully fitting into – or being accepted by – either of the cultures/communities to which one has a connection, and how a person can become antagonistic and volatile as a result. Leaning into that would be wonderful.

-Koci has devoted his whole life to bringing down the Berisha clan. With the help or hindrance of any of the other requested characters, he finally gets his wish. Now what?

-Maybe the other character has to turn to Interpol for help/becomes a material witness/gets arrested/enters witness protection, or otherwise has to do teeth-clenched teamwork with Koci. For / pairings, the shippiness doesn’t have to be overt -- antagonism, barely finding common ground, something that reads more like gen or shippy gen than explicit shippiness is fine! If the relationship turns porny, the antagonism (I keep using that word because it fits!) and complicated dynamics and maybe a reluctant recognition that they’re not so different would perpetuate themselves in the porn too, and I’m here for it.

-A few words about the other characters and how they (could) fit with Koci:

Uroš Perić – the regular joe turned assassin, who gets multiple chances in the course of the show to seek Koci’s help and doesn’t because he gets in deep and wants to be the guy that protects his family and takes care of everything himself. I keep thinking back to their very first scene, when Koci gives Perić his calling card and tells him to get in touch, and Perić could have done that before he committed his first murder but… didn’t. And then at the end, there’s that huge spoiler setting up S2. Despite becoming a murderer several times over, Perić is a much softer character than Koci, but he doesn’t like getting pushed around either. How would they work together, how would they clash?

Marija Perić – Uroš’s Croatian wife, who has the thankless role of being married to the guy who’s keeping her in the dark about major plot developments, but makes up for it with how she reacts to the hints she gets of Uroš’s continuing troubles as well as getting on Koci’s radar. She’s scared and out of her depth, but she’s also angry and, yep, antagonistic when she thinks Interpol is harassing her for no reason. I love the scene where Koci interrogates her and she lashes out and won’t give him an inch even when he blindsides her with evidence of her husband’s activities – more of that kind of thing, please! Or what if she decided to protect herself and her kids by cooperating with Interpol, or maybe thought she could help Uroš by turning on him?

Divna Dukić – Koci’s Interpol colleague and maybe the only character that likes him. Their dynamic is both very professionally respectful and yet… “flirtatious” may be too strong a word. They pretty obviously have a little thing for each other but choose not to act on it for a whole mess of reasons (he’s an emotional disaster area, she has enough on her plate as a single mom with a shitty ex, they work together). Also, I have a theory that Divna, while seeming loyal, may take her marching orders from one of the criminal elements or maybe from the more corrupt parts of Interpol or the Serbian police. I would love any or all of that to get explored more.

Dardan Berisha – the grieving crime boss and main target of Koci’s obsession (even though it was actually Dardan’s old uncle Skënder who had Koci’s father killed decades earlier). They’re both such hard, intense men, in part because they’ve had to be, and the narrative sets them up as mirror images of each other (while Uroš Perić is more a study in how someone becomes hard when circumstances push them to it). Yet while their conflict underpins the whole show, they rarely share a scene. Put them together more; let them fight or y’know *waggles eyebrows*.

Teuta Berisha – Dardan’s wife, who first loses her daughter, and by the end of the season her family is totally blown to smithereens, in part because of how she chooses to assert her agency within the super-patriarchal context in which she lives. She was ambivalent about her marriage before we meet her, and I love how canon events bring out her anger, grief, and quiet steeliness. Also, that moment at her daughter’s funeral when Koci gives her his condolences really hit me – they know they are enemies, but there’s that moment of standoffish respect between them. What if somehow they had to work together? Or what if she took over as the head of either the Berisha or the Sokoli clan (or both!)? A divergence from the end or any part of S1 would be very welcome.

Skënder Berisha -- Dardan’s uncle who still wields enormous influence in the Berisha clan and was behind the assassination of Koci’s father decades earlier. I only want this as a & pairing, but the character dynamic is still one of difficult shared history, knee-jerk antagonism, goading humor, not being at all intimidated by each other, and yet recognizing something familiar in each other. One of my favorite scenes from the whole show is their conversation at the hospital, in which they cover both present troubles and the past. Skënder is one of the few characters who can and does consistently run rings around Koci, and I want more of that as much as I want the tables turned.

#chocolate box 2021 #chocolate box fic exchange #dear author letter

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