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#btw while i was drawing this i was fooling around while trying to figure out his costume color and colored it as kaito kids suit for fun
puppyeared · 6 months
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updated Sleight ref!!
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master-k0hga · 5 months
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| H E C T O R |
[ Category: The Promised Land ]
| Another.
Old. Sport
... Anyways- This is Hector, and he's a flirty old fool. Despite that and kinda being annoying about it sometimes, he is in fact engaged and trying so hard and well to be a good father figure for his fiancé's son... Who hates him to fucking bits- (It's Mickey btw, Mickey, spoilt little toddler baby man; with an extreme jealousy towards anyone who gets his mother's attention other than him).. And you should feel bad for Hector cuz he really is a nice sweet, and flirty old fool...
Ok so like-
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
INFO
Name: Hector Species: Ice Elf General Personality: Flirty, jokester, laid back, supportive, somewhat two-faced, perverted, easy going Height: 7ft "2" Relationship Status: Engaged
Extra Info:
His job occupation for the organisation is actually on delivery goods and such either via in town or overall out of town; Where he and his unit use specific kinds of goods trucks that are suitable for travelling with in harsh cold and hot environments, as well as good for driving on bumpy, rocky or hill-like surfaces as well. In general, one delivery time took him almost half a year; Luckily they have proper storage to keep their stock/food deliveries in fairly good conditions still. As it's also the Frostclaw Traders Ltd to prep, manage and deliver goods along with keeping tabs on stock and whatnot while also being a services system, it is their top priority to put out stuff that's in great condition and to please their dealers/ buyers. Or make arrangements if needed
He's never been a father before as he's never had any in the past, nor had a set relationship with anyone before other than just those merely one nights with others, so this is all new to him. Luckily the women he's with now is as easy going as he is and that I believe gives them a level if understanding for each other; However when it comes to him and mickey, he won't be a step father or alive for long if that boy gets a knife. Hector better watch out
Was born with a weak bladder, not sure if he managed to get it from his mother's side or if his father had the same thing; Either way, cold weather, scaring him, making him laugh too hard, or even just squeezing his sides makes the water works; He's teased by it often and to be honest that's not fun
Despite having his own job, he is also a defender/soldier of this town too; A sword that was passed from his grandmother over to him after she had passed and he's kept hold of it ever since. He does train quite a lot, so he's not unfamiliar with using the cobalt blue blade. He also has a gun too but he and the other people in this tribe tend to try avoiding with using guns as the sound actually startles everyone in this strange realm. It's not recommended as their survival kicks in and they all skitter around and hide like frightened cats
Flirts with the well known chef too often so people think there's a thing going on there too, to which people should know by now that he's just a major flirt with everyone
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
... Belive that's all I have for him too, now moving onto others at some point to give the ref treatment to or to just re-draw them in general!... Which I have done and am trying so fucking hard to do, to which sucks cuz my motivation is balls...
Anyways- Enjoy the flirty man, and cuz I'm stupid I have a quick fan art doodle to post along with this one... (Although I'll be posting this shortly after the other one but who cares-)
... Whatever.
. Hector, Art © Me . DON’T RE-POST .
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alluringjae · 3 years
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until dawn; pt. II - ljn
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part I | part II
⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.
⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader
⤑ word count: 12.2k
⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au
⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too
⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe
btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!
with that, enjoy!
italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.
this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.
⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome
​ ⤑ ctto above!!
⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!
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“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”
“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”
Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).
Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.
“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”
Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.
Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.
By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.
“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”
“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”
“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”
“Aren’t we already past that stage?”
Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.
Or was it?
“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”
“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”
“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”
He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”
“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.
“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”
“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”
Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.
It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.
“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.
Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”
Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.
Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.
He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.
In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.
Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.
Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-
All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?
Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.
If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.
Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.
Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.
Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.
The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.
He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.
Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.
With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.
A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.
Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.
Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.
Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.
“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”
On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.
Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.
Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.
This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.
“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.
“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.
Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.
Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.
Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.
Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.
Or did she?
Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.
“Maybe we should watch another film first?”
“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”
As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.
Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.
Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.
As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.
That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.
“May I kiss you?”
Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.
You trust him, and he does too.
“Yes.”
Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.
Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.
Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.
“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”
The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.
“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”
As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.
You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.
However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.
“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”
You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.
“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”
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Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.
Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.
“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.
“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.
When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.
“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”
Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.
Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.
“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.
Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.
Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?
“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”
“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”
“You.”
Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.
You’re so smitten, and so was he.
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Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.
Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.
He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.
Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.
As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.
“I see you’re breaking another rule.”
“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”
“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”
Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”
Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.
Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.
The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.
Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.
Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.
He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.
Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.
“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”
“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”
Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.
You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.
After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.
“A gift?”
“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.
When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.
Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.
Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.
Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.
“Do you like it?”
Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”
After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”
The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.
“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.
**
If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?
Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.
The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.
Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.
“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”
Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.
“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.
As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.
“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.
The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”
Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.
“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”
You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.
His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.
Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.
“Fuck!”
The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.
Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.
Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.
The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.
“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.
Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”
None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.
Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.
Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.
Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.
There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.
Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.
The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.
Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.
“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”
Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.
“(Y/N), will we work out?”
“What do you mean, Jeno?”
You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.
“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”
His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.
It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.
It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.
Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.
“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.
“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”
Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.
But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.
Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.
“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”
If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.
“Are you sure, angel?”
Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.
Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,
“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”
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Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!
Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).
This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.
“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.
“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.
“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”
“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”
All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.
“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”
“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.
Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.
This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.
Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.
However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.
You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.
“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”
“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”
“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”
“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”
Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.
Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.
Oh, Jeno.
There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.
Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.
“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.
A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”
Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”
“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”
“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”
You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?
You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.
“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.
“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”
Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”
“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”
“You never will, Jeno.”
He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”
“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”
Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.
“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”
The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.
“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”
“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.
Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.
“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”
The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.
All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.
Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.
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Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.
The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.
Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.
- Athena
Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.
So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.
He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.
What are your new sketches?
Are you taking care of Mochi well?
Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?
Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.
Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.
Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.
This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.
But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.
“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.
A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.
- (Y/N)
Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.
I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.
- (Y/N)
If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.
“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”
“Are you just saying this or something?”
“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.
“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”
Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.
“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”
Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.
Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.
Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.
“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”
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A Year and a Half Later
“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”
Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”
“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”
Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.
Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.
He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.
It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.
After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.
He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.
“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.
“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”
“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”
“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”
Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.
“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”
Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.
This radiant face was none other than yours.
Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.
Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.
You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?
“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.
“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.
Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.
“How do you know me?”
“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”
Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”
Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”
That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.
You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.
All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.
You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.
“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”
“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”
“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”
“Must I need to forget to live properly?”
You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”
Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”
“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”
That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.
From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.
It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.
Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.
Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.
Head to toe, you remembered everything.
“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.
“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”
“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”
“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”
“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”
“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”
Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.
This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.
“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”
“What is it?”
With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”
Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.
“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”
He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).
Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.
The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.
The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.
“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”
You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”
“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”
“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”
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rhysismydaddy · 3 years
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can you write a fic where feyre gets really possessive of rhys and he loves it? thanks! i love your work btw
“Give me a dollar.”
Rhys’s brows go up, even as he slides a bill across the table to his wife. “You want me to tip you now?”
She scowls, making him grin. “I want to play a song, asshole. Guard my burger.”
She gets up and prances over to the jukebox, a rusty piece of crap he honestly can’t believe is here, considering it’s about fifty years outdated. But it’s part of the place’s “charm,” according to Feyre.
Also part of the charm? Warm beer and sticky floors covered in peanuts. 
But he can’t complain, can’t get it in his mind to be even mildly unhappy, because she’d chosen this place because of a craving for the greasiest, nastiest burger around. 
A pregnancy craving. 
She’d told him yesterday she was six weeks along, and he hadn’t stopped smiling since. 
He watched as she shoved the dollar in the old machine, heart in his eyes like a total fool, trying to figure out what song she’d play. 
He was so concentrated on his staring, he didn’t even notice someone come up beside him.
The smell of cheap perfume flooded his senses, and he looked to the left, immediately getting an eye full of improperly-contained cleavage. 
Looking up to the woman it belonged to, he raised a brow and said, “Hello?”
“Hi, handsome.”
Feeling a chill run down his spine, he looked over to find his wife watching the scene with high brows and a fierce look in her eyes. 
Fuck, he loved that look.
Possessive Feyre was right under really pissed off Feyre when it came to how much it turned him on, and he winked at her playfully, chuckling when her eyes narrowed. 
But no matter how much he loved that look in her eyes, he’d never do anything to make it justified. So he asked the woman next to him, “Something you needed?”
She leaned a hip against the table, smiling down at him and ignoring the cool tone of his voice.
“Just to talk to you for a while.” At his blank expression, she slid a little closer, put a hand on his shoulder, and murmured, “Or maybe not talk for a while.”
“Flattered, but I’m married,” he says, holding up his hand to show her the platinum wedding band as he shrugged her hand off. 
The woman smiles, apparently not caring. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
He’s about to respond, tell her he’s flattered but not at all interested, when a steely voice beside him says, “You’re in my way.”
He turns to see Feyre standing next to him, eyes narrowed in a way that sends a thrill through him, hands on her hips. 
The song around them finally reaches his ears, and he smirks as he recognizes it. Hands Off by Maria Vidal.
The woman sitting on the table steps out of her way but doesn’t leave, still facing Rhys. 
Ignoring her, he says to his wife, “Nice choice.”
She smiles a fake smile, eyes on the woman intruding on their dinner. “I’m glad you like it, but I really played it for your little... friend. Figured she could relate. It’s about a woman who touches something that doesn’t belong to her.”
Rhys bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, trying not to laugh as the woman’s face flushes red. 
"We were just talking,” she says, crossing her arms and inadvertently pushing her cleavage even higher. 
His wife shrugs. “And now you’re not.”
And then she makes a fucking shooing motion with her hand, and a hand over his mouth can’t entirely muffle the chuckle that escapes him.
“You’re a real bitch, you know,” the woman spits, making the amusement in him thin. 
Feyre tilts her head, eyes flashing. “Maybe, but I’m the bitch carrying his baby. Go find someone interested to bother. I suggest someone single.”
Her face flushes red in embarrassment, but she turns on a too-high heel and stomps away. 
Rhys smiles at Feyre, unable to stop himself from murmuring, “Feisty.”
“I swear, I can’t leave you alone for two minutes,” she complains. “I’m starting to think I need to carry around ‘He’s mine’ sign or something.”
His lips twitch. “I told her I was married.”
“Women like her don’t care, Rhys.” She takes a bite of her burger, subconsciously rubbing a hand over her still-flat belly. “And I know I don’t have anything to worry about, but I can’t help feeling a bit... possessive.”
He grinned like an idiot. “I like you when you’re possessive. Like an angry little kitten.”
She stole one of his fries. “Little kitten my ass. My hormones are so out of whack, I honestly think I could’ve killed her. Your baby is making me crazy.”
Rhys grinned. “Don’t blame our child for your psychosis.”
Feyre just rolled her eyes, then glared as a woman walked by their table a little too slowly and smiled at Rhys.
While the attention was doing his ego no harm, and while her reaction made him feel wanted, he really didn’t want his wife getting in a bar fight tonight. 
Leaning across the table, he placed a swift kiss to her lips, letting everyone in the dirty place know exactly who he belonged to. “I’m yours, and you’re mine, and no one else matters.”
She grabbed the collar of his shirt, kissing him again, then shoved him back to his side of the booth. 
“You need to get fat, or I’ll end up in an orange jumpsuit by the time this baby gets here. Now give me your fries.”
Rhys grinned, pushed the plate over, and wondered how he’d ever gotten so lucky.
________________________________________________________
aha cheesy ending as always. thanks for the ask <3
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animatedarchives · 4 years
Note
Hello!Congrats on 400 hundred!💞Could I get a male student MHA matchup?I'm a brown haired girl with freckles and brown eyes.I am pretty shy and have social anxiety but with friends I'm more outgoing!I'm hispanic and have a temper so when I lose it I start to curse in spanish.I love to sing,draw and cook!. I also like to try new things and I really loveee musicals and video games! I'm also the friend who people go to for comfort and for someone understanding.Your blog is amazing btw!!❤
@justamultifandomfan16 HI APRILLL i really enjoyed doing this for you and i’m gLAD i figured out this was you while we were talking about it the other night because i got to personalise it a bit more and i’m really happy with how it turned out (even tho it’s so LONG) thank you for supporting me since forever bb i’m so grateful for you and i hope you like it ❤️
i match you up with...
kaminari
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denki is super friendly and easygoing and his bright personality just melts all of your social anxiety away. his joy is infectious and you always feel happy around him. he loves to make you smile, and your laugh is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. he’s always cracking dumb jokes and doing stupid things to make a fool out of himself just to he can draw your attention to him and he can hear your gorgeous laughter. when you get angry and curse in spanish, his first reaction is “wow” because he thinks it’s so hot. then he’s asking you to say more words in spanish, with his eyes wide and sparkling, and before you know it, your anger has dissipated and you’re laughing at his silliness (he definitely picks up a few curse words from you to use though). he loves to eat the food you cook and will gobble it down in seconds before asking for more. he’s pretty adventurous too, so you guys always try new things together, and he encourages you to do the things you’ve always wanted to do but were afraid to do so. you guys also love to chill and play video games together, and when you beat him he whines about being a loser, but you easily silence with a kiss. for the next few rounds, he suddenly becomes so bad at the game but he’s really losing on purpose so he can get more kisses. he definitely indulges in your love for music and musicals, always belting out the soundtracks with you even though his voice isn’t perfect. but you’re not bothered (it’s adorable anyway) and he just grabs you and spins you around as you guys dance the night away. being with denki always makes you feel like the happiest girl in the world because he brings you so much colour and warmth into your life. it’s never a dull moment with him and he is truly the light that always guides you home.
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myinconnelly1 · 4 years
Text
Not the Man I Know
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Square Filled: Mind Control (kink)
Square filled: Damsel in Distress Ship: Michael!Dean x Myin;  Dean x Myin; Sam x Myin (Mentioned) Rating : Explicit Warnings: 18+ NSFW,  non!con; Dub!con; rape; angel Mind control; Grace abuse; reference Cheating, canon violence, canon gore Request: Hey, Uhm for your request: Maybe Mind control with Lucifer and/or Michael? Like they walk in to the reader getting dressed or showering and they try to have fun with her and mind control her into having hard sex with them?
AN:  This was everything that I hoped for and more.  I also used @impala-dreamer​ ‘s make me feel it challenge with the song Uninvited (fucking awesome song btw) Word Count: 2,021 Created for @spnkinkbingo. @spndarkbingo​
“How did you find me?”  Myin asked staring up at Dean’s face.
The pain in Myin’s shoulder was starting to fade as cold lightheadedness started to replace it.  She could feel her blood thrumming throughout her body and spots black out some of her vision.  Her breath was coming in gasps as she ran, knowing that trying to outrun the fit hunter was not a likely outcome.  She was going to need a back-up plan, assuming she didn’t just collapse.
“Please, that pathetic waste of space that this vessel calls a brother has been tracking your location.”  Dean’s voice was stiff and hard as he talked down on Myin.  Her body froze as recognition illuminated her face.  Michael.
“Myin!”  Dean was shouting her name from somewhere behind her in the forest.  She couldn’t spot, shouldn’t stop.  But she was getting tired.  There was no way that Michael had released his hold on Dean.  She knew this in her head.  Even if she had seen the familiar look in Dean’s face when she had cast her spell on him.  “Please, stop running.”
“What do you want?”  Myin’s hand reached for blindly for her gun, concealed behind the door.
“You know what I’m here for,”  Michael sneered, the expression so wrong on Dean’s face.  Her eyes widened then her fingers tightened around the grip of her pistol.
Myin fell face first into the dirt of the woods.  Exhaustion and loss of blood were taking her over.  She didn’t have much energy left, and Michael was probably right around the corner.  The spell had been accidental.  All these years with the Winchester brothers and she had stopped practicing what her father had taught her.  She was just glad she’d had the foresight to send her kids away while she was in hiding.  They wouldn’t be safe with her, not yet.  Her eyes closed, and her head turned limply against the cool earth.
Michael slammed the front door into her chest, sending her flying across the room and the gun flung back against her shoulder going off.  Myin screamed with agony as the nine millimeter round pierced cleanly through her shoulder.  You regained her awareness as Dean’s hand’s, Michael’s hand’s, gripped her arms and moved her to a kneeling position.
“You will give me what I want,”  He growled an inch from her face.  Her body quivered in fear and shock.  “I even chose to stay in this guise for you.” 
Myin hadn’t really given it any thought, but she noted now that Michael was wearing Dean’s clothes.  His flannel and jeans, as opposed to Michael’s more dandy suit and cap.
“Did you think it would impress me?”  She all but spat in his face.
“No, sweetheart,”  He fumbled with the word as if it was unfamiliar.  “That is what this pretty face would’ve called you right?  No I wore this in the hopes that you would be more receptive to my request.”
Myin stared at him numbly.  She knew what he wanted.  And she knew that she could never give it to him.  She could never betray her friends like that.  Sam especially.  She was here in hiding to keep Sam safe.
“Never,”  She growled.
“I guess I had expected you to say that,”  Michael closed the space between them and kissed her unceremoniously.  She was so stunned that she hadn’t been ready when he bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.
“Ow!” She cried as she pulled away as much as she could.
“Hm, I still don’t understand what these brothers see in you,”  He mused licking the blood on his lips.
“Myin?  Myin, wake up!”  Dean said as he shook her limp form gently.  She roused enough for panic to cross her face momentarily.  ‘No, no, no, no.  It’s okay, sweetheart.  I’m gonna save you.” 
Myin noted the tightness of bandaging on her shoulder where the gunshot wound was.  He had managed to stop her from bleeding out completely.  That didn’t seem like something that Michael would have done until after he had gotten what he wanted from her, unless she was going to die.  And while she felt pretty terrible, she didn’t think that she was that close to death’s door.
“Dean?  How?”  Myin muttered in confusion.
“You, I think whatever you did, send him away.  It brought me out,”  He was staring at her, concern etched his face.  “I think I did something horrible.  I think I killed Sam.”
Myin stared at Dean in disbelief.
“What?!”  Tears fell down her face as she thought about it.  It made sense that Michael would want Sam dead.  He was in the way, constantly causing issues for him using Dean.  And he stood between Michael and Myin.
“God, Myin.  What have I become?”  Dean looked down at his hands, which were shaking.
“It’s not your fault.  Michael was controlling you,”  She grabbed his hands.  “You can’t blame yourself.”
“But you do,”  Dean whispered.  “There is no way that you can prove to me otherwise.”
Myin didn’t hesitate.  She reached out and took Dean’s face in her hands, kissing him deeply.  It wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but Dean’s entire demeanor changed regardless.
“Neither of them recovered after what happened when Dean came back from Hell, you know?”  
Michael sounded like he was going into a long prepared speech.
“What?” Myin asked shock registering on her face briefly.
“Sam said he understood why you went to his brother, he could never blame you.  After all he was with Ruby.  But he never did forgive you.  And as for Dean, well let’s just say that I can still feel his love for you.  It hasn’t gone away, it wasn’t a one time thing,”  Michael’s voice dripped with malice.
“You don’t know what your talking about.  You have no idea what love feels like!”  She did spit in his face this time, unable to control her rage.
Michael loosed his grip on her injured shoulder and smacked her cheek with his open hand.
“Enough, you will agree to give me what I want,”  He squeezed her arm.
A light bulb went off in her mind.  He needed her permission.  Just like any angel, he needed permission to be inside her.  Even if it wasn’t possession.
“No,”  She grimaced with resolve.
Michael’s hand moved back to her injury.  And he pressed his thumb against the wound.  Myin’s eyes rolled up in her head in pain.
“Say yes.”  He growled, his lips practically against hers.
“Never.”  She barely finished getting the word out, before Michael crushed his fist around her wound.
Myin gasped, shuddered, clenched her teeth.  She refused to scream for his pleasure.
“Give in!”  Michael shouted, the wet of his lips on hers.  She panted as he clutched her harder.
“DEAN!!”  Energy surged through her body, knocking Michael away from her and sending all the items nearby to explode away from her in a wave.  Myin stood as well as she could, and bolted for the door, running for the woods.
Dean kissed her back fiercely, with a groan.
“Michael was right,”  He pulled away from her slightly and leaned his head against hers.  “I still want you.”
A last tear trickled down Myin’s cheek, before Dean eased her onto her knees and crouched behind her.  He kissed her neck, and her uninjured shoulder, as he pulled her pants and panties down.  Two of his fingers pressed into her eagerly as she heard his other hand fiddle with his belt and zipper.
Warmth permeated her skin, it wasn’t a familiar sensation, but Myin enjoyed it nonetheless.  She breathed deeply, as his fingers stroked her damp center, then he removed his fingers and she felt his cock pressed against her cunt.
“Let me in?”  Dean asked quietly.  Myin was caught off guard by the question, normally Dean didn’t stand on so much ceremony.
“Dean I want you.”  She whispered, wiggling her hips slightly.  The pain in her shoulder had ebb significantly and she felt stronger, but also almost drunk in the way that her ears and cheeks were warm.
“I need to hear you say it.  Say you want me inside of you,”  Dean’s voice was strained, with restraint Myin was sure.  Still something about this was bothering her.  Expect she felt so good, she didn’t want to be without him.
“Yes, I want,”   She gasped at the squeeze Dean gave her hip.  “I want you inside of me.”
Dean pressed into her at an agonizingly slow pace, until she felt his hips press against her backside.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,”  Dean’s voice was definitely not right, Myin realized as her head started to clear.  “I finally win.”
Michael.
He pulled out to the tip before slamming back into her completely.  Myin almost screamed in the sudden fullness.  She was screwed, but literally and figuratively.  The warmth that had been suffusing her body focused in her mind as the blue-white glow of Michael’s grace filled her being.
Myin had never felt so full in her life.  She felt stretched past her limits and tears fell from her cheeks again.  She realized Michael had healed her body to prepare for the onslaught of thrusts that he was now giving her.  Dean’s cock in her cunt slipping in her natural juices.
How had she been such a fool.  She should have known it was a trick.  He had told her that he needed her to make a child.  She assumed it was the only way that he felt he could defeat Jack.  
All she had to do was remain abstinent until Michael was gone.
She began to pant as her orgasm built slowly.  She didn’t want to cum because of Michael, even if it was Dean’s cock.  His use of the man’s anatomy was poor in comparison to Dean, but it was still good enough.
“Dean wants you to cum on his cock,”  Michael growled at your ear.  “He wants it even though he knows he isn’t in control of his body.  You humans are disgusting with all your bodily fluids and functions,”  Michael smacked her ass, in an almost Dean like fashion.  “Needing to get this man’s body inside of you to get what I need,”  He choked like he almost enjoyed it.
“If it’s so,”  Myin gasped as his hips missed the beat.  “So horrible, why do it?”
“Want you too much,”  Myin almost surfaced.  That was Dean’s voice, not Michael.
“Dean?”  She asked, hopeful.
“I’ve got you sweetheart,”  Dean reached a hand around and started to rub her clit.  “I think I beat him.”
“You,”  She sighed in pleasure as her orgasm started to crest.  “You have to pull out.”
Myin fell over the edge in orgasm.  Dean stuttered and started to pull out, but the grip of his hand on her hips redoubled and she knew Michael took over as he sunk his cock into her deeply.
“Just needed a little help figuring this body out,”  Michael’s lip curled as he held her against him.
“Hey!”  Sam’s voice echoed from somewhere behind Myin, and a sob of relief and guilt escaped her mouth as Michael dropped her onto her hands and knees.
“You’re too late.  I’ve got what I came for.”  And with that Michael left in a flutter of wings.  Myin fell to her belly in the dirt sobbing for the emotional abuse she suffered at the Angel’s hand, and for the betrayal of Sam’s love.  He would never understand, and she didn’t even know if she wanted to explain it to him.
Sam’s big hand found her body and she flinched slightly.  He pulled her clothes up gently then pulled her up into his lap to console her.
“Sam,  I’m so,”  Myin trailed off, not feeling the words she knew she needed to tell him.
“It’s okay.  I know,”  Sam rubbed his beard against the top of her head.  “You don’t need to be sorry for something that was out of your control.”
Myin couldn’t manage the strength to tell him that despite the horror of the situation, she had wanted Dean anyway.
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@waywardbaby​ @destielhoneybee​ @snffbeebee​ @deangirl7695​ @spnbaby-67​ @maddiepants​ @tabrown2021​ @ladywinchester1967​ @woodworthti666​ @miraclesoflove​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @emilyshurley​ @akshi8278​ @mannls​ @wendibird​ @bobasheebaby​ @flamencodiva​ @theoneandonlymelol​ @chelsea072498​ @donnaintx​ @justsomedreaming​ @supernaturalenchanted​ @supersassyprobablysad​
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Summer Romance and Cinema Nights (Sriracha, Part 12.)
Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.
Part Summary: Dating a local police Chief may be way trickier than it seems. But when he turns out to be a complete fool for you, you somehow know that you can work that.
A/N: FLUFFY JIM, YAY! Also, just btw, I would like to announce that the official two songs for this fic‘s couple are: Little Secrets by Passion Pit and 3 Nights by Dominic Fike. Two brilliant, catchy songs which excellently depict the mood!
Word count: 2.9 K
Tagging: @nemodoren​ @missdictatorme​ @creedslove​
Master list: H E R E ​
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That other morning, somehow everything seemed to be just perfect - Hopper, for the first time in forever, woke up on time to shower and prepare on time. He had such a good mood that he opened up his windows in his car and basically yelled every lyric of You Don't Mess Around With Jim from the window. A bold move for riding though Hawkins at half-past seven in the morning. And even bolder when you acknowledged that Hopper couldn't sing for shit. He even bought a huge Puget of flowers to welcome Florence back in the office.
When he ran inside the office, the tune was still playing outside - the office was smelling like freshly brewed coffee and just baked donuts, that made Jim even swing his hips in the beat coming out of the car. He gently put the flowers in front of Florence, who just opened up her mouth, and he danced into the office while singing the chorus. She was looking at him and she was even more surprised when Hopper didn't even lit up a cigarette as he walked through the office. Was Jim actually put through lobotomy when she was gone?
Powell and Callahan just stood there, looking at the man any of them actually didn't know. Powell then poked Callahan's side - Chief must've gotten laid and it must've been extraordinary good because there wasn't any sane explanation for any of that.
"A good night with a lady in a warm bed, Chief?" - Powell teased Hopper with a knowing smile and both of the men almost choked when Hopper just hummed back.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you and your wife would be jealous if she knew." - Hopper patted his shoulder and with another of his terrifying signing, he turned around to go turn off the radio in his car. But just as his good mood came out of nowhere, just as quickly he was brought back to life when he patiently sat in his chair and waited for your promised call.
There was no other way to name the feeling inside of him - Hopper was just straightway nervous. There wasn't any other way to put that. He was his foot and when he wasn't tapping his foot, he was tapping his fingers into his desk. When he wasn't tapping his fingers into the desk, he was constantly fetching himself a cup of coffee - it was almost a miracle because Florence hasn't seen him coming out of the office as regularly as he did that day. A lot of coffee meant that he was peeing rather often - for the first time in a long time, he felt like a living, breathing person.
The call came - soon after one in the afternoon, his phone suddenly came to life. He almost jumped at the plastic box, letting the phone fall three times on his desk. And at that moment, his head told him to act cool. Like he didn't almost shit his pants when the phone rang.
"Um... Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, at the phone, Hawkins PD. What can I help you with?" - He asked and coughed a bit. If it wasn't you, he swore that he's going to kill someone. But then he heard a burst of your laughter and he almost hummed with pleasure. His mind told him that he's the cool guy now and there's no way he's going to laugh, smile, hum or grunt.
"You're funny. Really funny. Sorry, it took me so long, I was with my mom and brother... Long story short, boring noon at the household. What about the old mill near the town, half an hour from now? I'll give you five minutes in advance." - You spoke fast because you didn't have any idea of how much of time you've got remaining.
"Of course, Mr. Black. The old mill? You say that somethin' got lost? Yeah, I'll be there in thirty minutes." - Hopper answered loud enough for Florence to hear the response, hearing you losing your cool on the other end once again.
"In thirty-five minutes, not a minute late, okay? Don't forget I have my watch on." - You whispered in the end and ended up the call for good. Hopper immediately got on his feet and looked at himself in the window, slicking his hair back and readjusting the uniform, putting his sunglasses on to look even cooler. Then he stopped at Florence's dear, still seeing you there, drawing your small little pictures, eating a single donut all day long, with a bored face, waiting for a call.
"I need to go to the old mill...-" "Because old black lost something. Again. You yelled it loud enough." - Florence told him back, having a bored look on her face. The newest Harlequin added to the library was opened in her desk and she was almost halfway through it. Which was impressive.
"I'll most likely take my lunch break as well." - Hopper informed her briefly and feared her answer since the look she gave him was already furrowed enough. - "Since you once walked in exactly on time, why not?" - She mumbled in the end, ignoring Hopper from that moment on. He basically ran into his car, holding the hat on his head.
It was less than twenty minutes on a bike when you knew roads though the Hawkins woods, but it was almost thirty minutes by car, so he really had to try and drive like a madman. But it was worth it in the end - when he parked the car, you were already sitting in the car there, having only long basketball shorts and a tight black top on. You smiled and was on your legs in no time, running towards Hopper.
When you jumped at him, circling your hands around his neck, he was seriously trying his best to keep both of you standing on your feet. When you almost sucked the breath out of him, you stepped a bit away, watching your wristwatch.
"Two minutes earlier. I'm impressed." - You mumbled, pulling him for a kiss again, closing your eyes. Then, before he had the opportunity to answer something witty back, you caught his palm and lead him to the backseats.
The half an hour on the backseat was one of the most passionate he ever had. There wasn't much space, but you figured out how to pull his pants down to his ankles, how to pull down your shorts and you just pulled the top down so he could watch your boobs bounce as you leaned both your palms into the roof and cried out with pleasure. As always, Hopper was doing and saying things that made you more than a chuckle, having you laughing on his lap at one time.
Half an hour later, you were both laying on the back seat, breathing heavily. You never remembered sex being as good as it was with Hopper. But it was definitely mind-blowing. When he tried to put his pants at least partially up, you stopped his arm, grinning. Your leg was spread up to the air and it seemed like you're in pain.
"I have a spasm. Hold on a second." - You begged, still having the leg in the air. The least Hopper could do was to support your leg, so he caught it in the air. After a minute, you finally got dressed, still having that selfish grin.
"What's that about?" - Jim asked as he still tried to catch his breath. It was almost awfully hot in the car. And it definitely smelled like a damn good quickie.
"Every time you'll be driving Blazer, you'll see me riding you on the backseat." - You chuckled and climbed out to stretch your back. - "Seems to me like I'm already winning the little remember me game."
"You'll see about that. What about the movies, have you thought about that?" - Jim took out one of the cigarettes, closing the door behind you, leaning his ass into the car. He still had his shirt and t-shirt untugged, but he knew it can hold on a minute. He offered you from the pack as well, but you shook your head.
"How do you want to execute that crazy plan?" - You asked back, slowly smoothing his left arm before entwining your fingers with his. Jim took a second to think about that, lighting the cigarette up.
"Well, you'll go first and buy yourself a ticket. I'll go second so people would be less suspicious. I'll put on the grumpy asshole fave everyone knows and pretend to meet you in there. The rest is a mystery." - Jim answered thoughtfully and laughed, when you playfully punched his shoulder, laughing as well. He put his arm around your shoulder, bringing you even closer, kissing the top of your head.
"You really thought about that, huh?" - You mumbled, putting your arms around his waist, nudging your face into the shirt of his uniform. - "Nobody told me you're handsome, a good cook and clever. Almost too good to be true."
"Yeah, keep that talk to yourself, will you? We'll need some pretty good actin' if we're supposed to make people believe that." - Hopper answered back, puffing out a bit of smoke.
"Come on, no-one in the city actually believes that Jim Hopper, the asshole from downtown, would be able to pick up a college student." - You mumbled back, poking fun of him even further. - "I can do a survey to prove you, huh?"
"Oh, shut up, smarty." - Hopped answered back and this time, he was actually laughing. You laughed back, slowly letting go of him.
"So I'll see you at the cinema, then?" - You licked your lips with expectations, having the devil in your eyes. Hopper nodded. - "The last movie starts at 8:15. If you're not there, I'm going on my own, old man." - You laughed while you walked to your bike. Jim just looked at his boots, gulping down your sour comment. You meant it as a joke, but it was nothing but the truth. He was watching you riding down the hill before he finished the cigarette - after that, he finally tugged his shirt back and got into the car. 
You were right - how did it come that you were right so often? Just as he turned around to drive backward, he was seeing you riding him like crazy. And he smiled at that. 
Just as he told you, he meant to keep his word. Once 8:15 came, he was already turning the engine off. 
You, on the other hand, were in the line since 8:00. You put on your best denim jacket and a red t-shirt under it to bring out the colors even more. You were looking like a million bucks - and of course, none other than Steve and his asshole best friends noticed you. Steve was harmless and sweet when he was alone or around Aiden, but once he was hanging with Carol and Tommy, he was a disaster. 
“Look who we got here.” - Steve grinned from ear to ear when he saw you standing in the line, coming to you like a cocky son of a bitch he was pretending to be. You smiled back, straightening a bit. 
“Hey there, Steve. Carol. Tommy.” - You nodded to each one of them with a stiffened smile. These two were total assholes and jerks - Carol was the typical jealous bitch from your neighborhood who surely won't make it far in her life just because she always stuck her disgusting nose into the lives of other people and Tommy... Well, he hadn't got a brain, so his life must've kind of suck. 
“What are you doing here? Alone? On your own?” - Carol asked, nuzzling into her boyfriends' armpit. The rumors had it that she's fucking him since the seven grade, but you didn't care for your own good.
“I'm just going to see a movie on my own. You know, adults are fond of spending time on their own.” - You snorted back at her, seeing that bitch rolling her eyes while she chewed on the bubblegum. Soon, you were standing there with Steve only, because Carol hated you for some reason and Tommy H always followed her around like a tail.
“If you're alone, do you want me to... Uh... Join you?” - Steve asked silently, watching your face. You giggled a bit and smiled at him. Every time he was all alone and not under the influence of that bitter bitch and dumb jock, he was a sweetheart. You knew that since you knew Steve from the time he was six. - “They won't be mad. I don't feel like going out with them either.” - He swore and felt his breath smelling like beer and cigarettes. Which immediately brought back Hopper on your mind. 8:08. He still had seven minutes. 
“I was serious. I don't mind being on my own, Steve. It helps me with cleaning my head. You should go and enjoy... The New Star Wars.” - You looked at his ticket and smiled. You bought a ticked on the other movie and hoped that Hopper won't buy the wrong one. 
In the end, Steve nodded. You watched as his eyes controlled the situation around and after he was sure that Tommy or Carol can't see him, he offered you a hug. This one was a friendly one - you could tell from the smile he had on. It was the honest Steve Harrington smile. That was why you accepted. 
“Enjoy the movie... No matter what you'll be watching.” - He said before he ran off to the line for popcorn and some soda, finding Tommy and Carol still hugging. Oh, that bitch was definitely talking trash, again, but you didn't care. You took your place in the line as well, planning to buy yourself at least some soda. 
Hopper entered the cinema like a hurricane - he had a beige blazer you couldn't recognize, definitely some new jeans and a shirt you would've sworn that you haven't seen in the cabin yet. He was looking bald, the colors were bringing more life into his looks and you needed to say... That Hopper was looking fucking great. His blue eyes found you in a second, being almost the one to order, but he pretended that he didn't see you. 
Acting, you reminded yourself, you needed some good acting. You patiently waited for your Pepsi can and paid with a small smile, leaving to go through the corridor leading into the cinema, where you waited for Hopper. He almost freaked out when you suddenly came from behind the corner and let his popcorn go. 
“Hey there, Chief.” - You said almost unbelievably, letting a couple walk around you. - “I think I haven't even seen you outside the PD. How you're doing?” - You smiled and walked there by his side. Jim really knew how to act - he looked so bugged that you thought about doing something wrong. 
“I was good until now.” - He muttered out, bringing the popcorn closer to his body, nervously looking throughout the hall. You walked straight to the most distanced seats, looking at Hopper. 
“Jesus, come and sit next, everyone knows you're all alone here.” - You rolled your eyes and Hopper slowly followed you. You were a good actress when you needed to be one. You could act like a serious brat. Good acting from the both of you, indeed. 
“Move.” - Hopper grunted out angrily, acting like his night was just ruined. You sat next to each other in the back row, away from all the people that were for the movie actually. You both sat there without emotions in your faces, Hopper was chewing on his popcorn. He was waiting for the moment when all the people finally concentrate on the movie - and he also jealously watched a couple of teenagers at the other end of the row. He sighed. 
When the right moment finally came, it almost halfway through the movie and even you seemed to enjoy it since you laughed here and there. You jumped a bit when you felt a palm caressing your knee. In one moment, your face froze and your expression changed. You looked at the making out couple, the only other people sitting in one row with you, then you looked down on his palm before catching it into yours. From that moment, you had a contained smile on your lips as you moved your shoulder to Hopper‘s to lean into him.
At the end of the movie, you both let go, both your palms suddenly feeling fucking cold. And no-one noticed a thing. It might seem to be utter nonsense, but in reality, it was a bold and almost stupid move. If anyone saw that you're holding hands, you were dead. But no-one did. 
That night, you walked home - promising Hopper that you'll call him again tomorrow.
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timesketcharts · 4 years
Text
-Heading to Beacon Academy- Qrow x Ammy(OC)
Summary: Ammy gets ready to leave her home to travel to Beacon Academy. While on the airship she sees someone. I wonder who it could be? I figured I would finally post some of my mini ficlet I guess you could say. Ammy is my rwby oc and I ship with Qrow. This fic is based back when Qrow was a student at Beacon. I hope you enjoy!
~Heading to Beacon Academy~
"Well its almost time for you to board the airship. You sure about this?" Rhona said as they waited outside the airship heading to Beacon Academy. Ammy adjusted the bag on her shoulder before giving a small nod. Her gaze upon the large airship as she wondered on about life without the pack.
"Yes, I'm sure. I know I could just stay here but you know how I feel. Besides Beacon is the best school to become a Hunter..." she trailed off, her expression saddening as she remembered her other reasons for leaving. Rhona's following suit as she also knew how she was feeling. Ammy had kept it secret from the rest of the pack but she was not only going to become a better hunter but also to start a new life for herself. The place she had once called home didn't feel like it anymore. It hadn't felt like it since her parents died. She kept a smile but that didn't take away how she felt inside. Plus because of what happened to her parents, because of her,she didn't want to endanger the rest of the pack, they were her family after all.  Rhona placed her hand on her shoulder reassuringly.
"Hey I know how you feel about all of this but just know that you're always welcomed back here. We're all family here, no matter where we are in the world. There's always an open door." "Thanks Rhona. That makes me feel better. I have to say though you already sound like a leader" she laughed as she gently elbowed her friend in the side. After all Rhona was going to become the new leader of the Gulay pack once she was done with her own studies and such. Ammy was supposed to originally since her mother was the former leader of the pack but she turned it down. After learning what she did as a child she just couldn't take that role, it just didn't feel right to. Hence why she long decided to leave and go find her place elsewhere. "Only to you. I still don't think I'll ever be as great a leader as your mother or my mother at the current moment. I will do my best but I still think you'd be much better to lead...and before you say anything I do understand your reasoning for not becoming so and I respect that fully and will honor it" she said as she pulled her friend close into a hug. Ammy returned the hug and smiled. "Again thank you Rhona. You're a really good friend."
Rhona pulled away and put her hands on her hips confidently. "I believe I am the 'best' friend ever" she exclaimed playfully.
Ammy laughed again as her friend tried to cheer her up. "Yes. Yes you are."
Soon the call for students to begin boarding the airship arrived, drawing their attention away from each other to the ship itself. They watched as the doors opened for them to pile in. Thankfully the ship was quite large so they didn't have to worry about being crammed in. She watched as students began to board, saying their goodbyes to their families and friends who wished them well. Ammy couldn't help but feel anxious.  Rhona turned her attention back to Ammy and placed her hand on her back.
"Looks like it's time..." she trailed off.
"Yeah...its seems that way..." Ammy got quiet as well.
"Hey everything's going to be just fine. You're the strongest person I know and you'll do great out there. Besides if you ever need an ear, I'm here! You know how to reach me now go and show these guys how its done," She gently pushed her forward, "Go on and get out there. The world's waiting for you, now go see it."
Ammy smiled and hugged her tightly. She was going to miss her terribly but they could still talk whenever, which put her mind at ease a little. "See you later then. I'll call you when I get there."
"You better. See ya later wolf girl."
Ammy waved at her as she ran off towards the airship's entrance to join the others. It was exciting sure but also nerve-racking. She had never been away from her pack. Ever since her parents passed away she never ventured too far out, even in town. If she went into the heart of mistral she was usually with Rhona and her mother. She saw Rhona wave back at her before getting a text telling her good luck. Smiling she nodded and went inside. Her eyes wide as she looked around. It was massive inside and quite impressive. Searching for a nearby window to watch them take off, she leaned against the wall. Looking out as the doors finally closed and the pilot announced their ascent, she looked out and watched Rhona as she followed the airship. Waving up at her with a proud look on her face as she did.  Ammy couldn't help but wave back until they were far off the ground. Continuing to watch until she could barely see her home anymore.
With a small sigh she looked over at all the other students who were already running around and mingling and began to feel a little nervous again. Sure some of them she recognized but there were quite a lot more she didn't. Hopefully she could avoid them for the most part. Talking wasn't exactly her strong suit at the moment with how she felt. For now the best thing she could do is explore. It was extremely large, even with all the new students aboard it, meaning there was a good amount of room to wonder between so avoiding was pretty easy. She did bump into one or two people as she rounded a corner, quickly apologizing in turn. Sighing she walked along the massive windows just looking out at the sky to calm herself before turning her attention back to the world around her. That was when she suddenly stopped in her tracks.
In front of her a few feet away she saw a boy and a girl standing near the window, looking out elsewhere. She assumed not only were they siblings but also twins since they looked quite alike. Both with black hair and piercing red eyes. You would've swore they were models or something. It looked like they were scanning the area around them, well the girl was, like she was gathering info but the boy...the boy was looking out at the sky as if disinterested and in his own world. Ammy's attention in turn was more focused on the boy. He was...dare she say it, beautiful. For some reason she was drawn to him, she had never been drawn to anyone before. It was kind of like time stopped, silly thought she knew but that's how it felt to her. Without missing a beat she said exactly what she thought aloud.
"Beautiful."
The boy must have heard her cause he suddenly pulled his attention away from the window. Ammy quickly realized she must have spoke aloud and quickly turned herself around. Ducking around a corner as fast as she could and hoping that he didn't see her. Little did she know the boy had seen her go around the corner but didn't get a look at her face. He  just stood there a little confused for he could've sworn he just heard that girl say something to him but who knows. He just looked on for a moment before turning his attention back to his sister, who was still observing the other students.You'd think she was looking for prey. Feeling her brothers gaze they shared a look before she gestured slightly with her head that they move elsewhere. The boy nodding and following behind but not without looking back once more to see if he'd see whoever it was looking at them again.
Ammy on the other hand was leaning against the wall. Her hand resting on her chest as she felt her heart race trying to figure out what that was all about. That had 'NEVER' happened before. Why did she freeze like that? What was it about him that made her do that in the first place? Let alone run off like a child who had been caught stealing out of the cookie jar. She admitted he was good looking but that didn't mean anything. There were plenty of good looking guys, don't get her wrong but why him? Maybe she was still tired from the night before?  Yeah that had to be it right? Taking a deep breath she gave herself a few moments before she glanced around the corner. She was pretty sure she looked like a fool but hoped he didn't see her. As she looked back at the area he was at she found they had moved elsewhere. Part of her was relieved but the other wanted to go find them again. Shaking her head she told herself no. A sigh escaping her lips as she wondered of to a nearby chair, taking a seat and texting Rhona on her scroll. Thankful for her quick response she continued to talk to her for the rest of the ride or at least most of it.
Time passed and soon she heard the announcement of them arriving in Vale.Stopping what she was doing, she finally peered out the window to see her new home. Her eyes widened at the scene in front of her. It was beautiful and quite the sight to behold. Holding her scroll in hand she took a deep breath and prepared for what her new world had in store for her.
I hope you like it!
Oh btw my ship name for them is Qrowmitty XD Ammy’s full name is Amitty but she prefers Ammy instead.
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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years
Text
A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 6)
Jemima Jones
Up to some mischief with Johnny boy. Contains a little mistreatment of minors (not by any of the main characters btw)  
(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)
-
John rode us to the trapper, keeping a fast pace on his horse that reminded me how much I missed riding. We arrived quickly, and John helped me down from the horse when we slowed to a stop near the stall. The trapper looked between us as we approached, greeting me with a nod.
“Funny to see you with some company,” he noted. I placed the pelts down on his table and unrolled them.
“I've been making friends,” I said a little drily. He inspected the pelts, checking their quality.
“Not your finest work,” he noted.
“The deer? I didn't skin those,” I said, and he glanced up at John. “Not him, neither.”
“My, you really have been making friends. You could teach them a thing or two about skinning.”
“Didn't wanna be a smart ass,” I shrugged and the trapper laughed.
“I'll give you ten dollars for the lot.”
“Sure,” I nodded.
“You ain't gonna haggle?” John asked.
“I've haggled with this feller so much he don't even need it no more, that's a good price.”
“If you say so,” he shrugged.
I took the money, pocketed it, and said my goodbyes before mounting John's horse again. He rode us back onto the track, keeping to a trot.
“Where to next, Valentine?”
“If it ain't too much to ask,” I replied.
“Oh it's pushing it, but I'll let you off,” he said, his tone light and jovial. He picked up the pace to a gallop, a longer ride ahead of us than the one down. “Though, I ain't sure what you're planning on buying with ten dollars.”
“It'll probably stretch to a pair of pants. A blouse if I'm lucky.”
“Pants?” John questioned.
“More important than a pretty frock, I reckon. Cheaper too. If I'm gonna be working and hunting more, the pants'll come in handy,” I explained with a shrug. He nodded in understanding.
“I was speaking to Dutch the other day about what sorts of jobs we could get you in on.”
“Yeah? I don't wanna shoot nobody,” I said, right off the bat.
“Didn't think you would. But I was thinking, you did a pretty good job of bringing me into that ambush the other day. Reckon we might be able to flip that on its head, use some of your performative skills.”
“I weren't performing anything, John. I thought I was gonna die,” I deadpanned.
“I know. And I ain't suggesting we use you as bait like those other fools did, either. A distraction, though. You got that quiet, vulnerable thing going for you–”
“You think I look vulnerable?” I balked, staring at the back of his head with my face screwed up.
“Now I know you a little better, no. But I think you could pull it off; you're young, quiet, polite, you could bend all that to your favour.”
“And do what exactly?”
“Say we take a bank, right? You could distract the tellers, easy, while we go in and take control of the place. And they wouldn't even have to know you were in on it, you're just an innocent little thing tryin'a open an account, or, get a hold of some misplaced funds.”
“A bank. Gosh, John, all I've robbed is drunkards in saloons and the occasional empty homestead.”
“Alright, we start off smaller then, we'll figure something out.”
“I'm willing to try,” I nodded.
“That'll make Dutch happy.”
“And if I do all this; help you lot make money, you'll help me get my horse back?” I asked.
“Of course, we'll do our best,” he glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled.
“And then I can leave and get back to what I was doing before, and Dutch won't have to worry about me squealing on you 'cause I'll be incriminated too,” I thought aloud and John chuckled.
“I suppose that's right. That's if you even wanna leave at that point.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“I mean this life gets pretty addictive, hard to get out of. And Dutch, the community he's built with all of us? Well, it's nice knowing you've got people who'll have your back.”
“I don't know. I think I'm better off on my own.”
“Alright, I ain't gonna try and change your mind,” he said, and we rode in silence the rest of the way to Valentine.
John accompanied me to the general store, where I was able to purchase a pair of men's work jeans and a belt to keep them up, since they were a little loose around the waist. John was carrying them in his satchel for me. I couldn't afford a top, so I'd have to keep borrowing the girls’ for the time being, but it was a start. A step back towards independence.
John wanted to run an errand before we headed back, to check to see if the group had received any mail. We stopped by the station and I waited outside for him, sitting on a bench, people watching. There was a woman nearby – dressed in mint green with her blonde hair styled in an immaculate updo – obviously going on a trip judging by the large case sat by her feet. She was causing a scene, yelling at the top of her lungs to the young boy she was with. He must've been about ten, not very old at all, and his case had opened up, spilling his clothes all over the floor. I hadn't seen it happen but I doubted it was his fault at all, but you'd think he'd committed murder with the way she was hollering at him. I watched in uncomfortable silence as he tried to gather it all up again, flushing with humiliation.
I jumped when John came out to meet me, a letter in hand.
“Letter for Arthur,” he said, inspecting it. “I think it's from Mary, judging by the handwriting.”
“Mary?” I questioned. He looked over his shoulder, distracted by the screaming woman for a moment.
“Last I heard she'd got married. She's an old girlfriend of his,” he told me. I felt an unnecessary amount of pressure to keep my expression as neutral as possible.
A loud snapping sound echoed across the decking, and John and I looked towards it. The kid was sprawled out, clutching his cheek. I covered my mouth, looking up at John who was analysing the situation, looking between the boy, the woman, her case. He turned back to me.
“You wanted some new clothes,” he said under his breath. “Why don't you go talk to her? I'll get you some; she looks about your size.”  
My heart pounded at the prospect but I found myself nodding. I cleared my throat and rose to my feet, brushing out the creases in my dress as I made my way over to her, thinking over what I could say. My mind was drawing a blank, I hoped to God something would come out of my mouth when I reached her, and I could improvise my way through it.
“Hello, ma'am?” I said, smiling nervously at her. She looked up at me from her boy, eyes narrowed and expression sour. The kid went back to gathering his things
“Can I help you?” She hissed.
“I was wondering if I could help you, actually,” I told her. “You see, you look like a woman of means, that dress of yours is mighty pretty. I don't s'pose you're looking for a servant girl at all? I'm looking for work and I have a lot of experience, worked for a number of high standing folk.”
“A servant girl?” She scoffed, turning to face me head on, simultaneously putting her back to her baggage. The boy had his back to it too as he knelt on the floor; I saw John strolling by from the corner of my eye, glancing around.
It was pretty quiet on this side of the station, nobody was close enough to really be paying any attention, John just had to get the timing right and I trusted him to do it.
“Yes, could I be of assistance? I can cook, clean, sew… do childcare.” I added, my voice going up at the end. Her expression shifted to one of consideration.
“You any good at tending to horses, too? Our stable boy got sick and died not long ago,” she said without any softening of her words. It shocked me how easily she just said that, like he wasn't even a person at all.
“Oh, of course. That was actually a huge part of my last job.”
“And why'd you lose it? You gotta be looking for work for some reason.”
“My previous employer lost his fortune, he was a heavy gambler. He couldn't keep me,” I explained, shaking my head sadly.
I saw John again, walking behind the woman. As casually as anything he just dipped down and picked up the case, strolling on by around the corner where his horse was hitched. A flutter of exhilaration appeared in my tummy when she didn't even glance back.  
“Well,” the woman said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a pencil and a small diary. She scribbled something down before tearing out the page, offering it to me. “You drop in at this address soon and we can talk more.”
“Thank you!” I beamed at her, clutching her hand as I took the note, squeezing it in appreciation. “Jemima Jones, it's a pleasure,” I lied, spewing out the first name to automatically roll off of my tongue.
“Mrs. Schwartz. Don't get your hopes up, you have to meet my husband, first,” she told me and I nodded.
“Of course. I will let you get on, then, and I'll see you soon,” I nodded and gave her a little bow before all but skipping off. She watched me leave, an odd look on her face, but I was gone in seconds. I stuffed the note down into my chemise, saving it for later.
John was sat on his horse, ready and waiting with the case on his lap. “Nice work,” he grinned at me.
“You too!”
He held his hand out and helped me up, then handed me the case. "Hold onto me, and don't be shy, I know you've only got one hand with that case. I don't wanna be losing either of you.”
I shuffled closer to him, wrapping my free arm firmly around his midriff; then he set off. He moved quickly, taking off straight into a gallop to get away from the area as quickly as possible, we probably only had about thirty seconds before the woman would notice her baggage was gone and luckily we were out of there before we heard anything to suggest she had.
I was grinning the whole way back, thoroughly exhilarated by the whole thing. I'd robbed a handful of people but none of them were as exciting as that; working with a partner, getting out clean, robbing from someone I could say probably deserved it. It had been fun.
We arrived back at the camp and Karen was keeping guard, looking between us and at the way I was pinned so close to John. She cocked a brow.
“We’ve been busy today!” I told her.
“You have, huh?” There was an edge to her tone and she made even more of a point of looking back and forth between us. I rolled my eyes and jumped down from the horse as soon as it came to a stop. I held the case up.
“We relieved some sour faced hag of this. I think Mary-Beth'll be pleased; she can have her clothes back,”
“Ooh, I wonder what else is in there,” she said.
“Y’all can do what you please with the rest of it, I'm just interested in some new clothes.”
John and I headed into camp, placing the case down on the table near Dutch's tent. He noticed us and immediately headed over, smoking a cigar. There was a padlock keeping the luggage secure and John pulled something out of his pocket, using it to try and jimmy it open.
“What's this?” Dutch asked when he reached us.
“The new girl's first job,” John explained. “We saw this nasty piece of work slapping her kid around in the middle of the station, thought we'd take the opportunity to get some new clothes for her.”
John got the lock open and revealed what was inside the case. Laying on top was one of those big fancy hats, he moved it out of the way and there was a high end dress to match underneath it. When he moved that, I was relieved to see some more every day clothes below. I reached in and pulled out a plain, peach coloured skirt; it felt pretty high quality and there was a fair amount of fabric in it, which would come in useful when riding horseback. I draped it over my arm and pulled out a cotton blouse with fine lace running down either side of the buttons down the centre. It was far prettier than anything I'd owned before but it wasn't too elaborate that I'd feel silly wearing it.
“We can sell some of this,” Dutch said, lifting up the hat. “Should be worth something.”
“There's jewellery too,” I told him, pulling out a little drawstring bag that felt heavy. I handed it to him and he grinned.
“Very nice. You did good. What was your method of acquiring this?” He asked.
“I distracted her, posing as a servant girl looking for work, and John picked it up and walked off with it, just like that,” I explained excitably.
“Well done, you two! My dear, you have what you'd like from in here and leave the rest by my tent. You might as well keep the case, too,” he patted the top of my arm and gave me an appreciative nod before turning on his heel.
“I’d call that a job well done,” John grinned at me, and I mirrored his expression. “Nice to see you're pleased, too, I think this is the first time I've seen you smile.”
“It's been fun! Exciting. Thank you, John.”
“And thank you,” he held his hand out to me and I shook it firmly.
Karen was behind us, watching the whole thing with an unreadable expression. I smiled at her and she smiled back, turning away, concentrating on her guard duties.
John handed me the things I'd bought from his satchel. “I'm gonna go put Arthur's letter in his tent, leave you to it. Good work today, I hope we can bring you in on more jobs, if you like.”
“Yeah, I'd like that.”
He nodded, tipping his hat before heading off.
I finished going through the case and decided to keep a few things; a couple of skirts and blouses, some bloomers and camisoles, a chemise, two jackets, one of which would be warm enough in cold weather. I had a decent wardrobe coming along and I neatly packed it all into the case with my new pants. I'd acquired a small leather satchel, too, that'd come in handy.
There was quite a haul of decent stuff I wasn't keeping, lots of elaborate clothing and jewellery, as well as some shoes that looked brand new but were far too impractical for me to consider keeping. I was lucky in the sense that my kidnappers had at least left my boots on my feet, anyway. I left all of the stuff near Dutch's tent like he'd asked me to, and then headed off to change into my new clothes.
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praphit · 5 years
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Captain Marvel: I dream of Breezy
People, the time has come!
Ever since we saw Nick Fury sending out a message at the end of "Infinity War", we've been waiting... which in the moment seemed out of place. The world is literally disappearing before our eyes, The Avengers took a big L, and Nick Fury decides to... what? pull out some high-tech weapon to save the day? - no. Pull out some type of device that will save himself from disappearing? - no. But, he's got time to take a selfie or tell his women "bye" - or so I thought. He was actually sending a message to the mysterious (at the time) Captain Marvel!
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BOOM!
Brie Larson, who plays CM, was always hanging out at Marvel events, and we finally figured out why. It was strange at some of these events tho... like the Black Panther Party - all of these people from Wakanda -
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- and then there's Brie Larson.
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And they're like "What the hell, woman?! Why are you here?!"
But, now we KNOW! - she's Captain Marvel!
SPLADOW
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- and she's going to play a huge role in saving the day. Then, we found out that she's getting her own movie, and it's about damned time it has arrived.
I had a dream about Brie the night before this movie's release. She was sitting on the couch, and was upset about something. She also had... well, maybe she was pregnant... or she had a beer gut. But, in this dream, I remember feeling a deep love for Brie, so even if it was a beer gut, it didn't matter to me. It would also mean tht she's passionate about beer, which I am as well:)
I don't know if we were a couple, or if she was the other woman, or if I was the other man... or if I was trapped in the friend zone, and thought I'd use this time of her being upset to break free and into her arms... Who knows?? I also don't know what she was upset about. But, towards the end of the dream, I was on the couch with her, giving her a hug:) - she let me, so I know she wasn't upset at me. I woke up and shouted "Brie!" And within seconds, I realized it was all a dream... or was it? Maybe she's my wife in another dimension. We'll solve that mystery later, it felt real as hell tho.
Anyway! We have Brie as Capt M. We also have a digitally young Sam L Jackson!
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Before the brooding, the scars, the all black uniform, the badass eye patch, and him demanding to know what's in my wallet, he was a young pup of a detective, who loves cats apparently. I was excited to see more of his story.
Jude Law is also in this movie. He's rockin that look when you're losing your hair, but you jell it up a bit to look like you're still young and hip. Some people can pull off the look, but it's always the beginning of mid-life crisis. Whenever I see people walking down the street with that look, I always tell them that I'm praying for them.
When was Jude's last big movie? I ask because Jude is supposed to be a big star right?? - or at least he was. Yet I never see him at any Marvel parties. Is he not invited? Why don't they like Jude? "Jude" is such a cool name. I'd want him at the party, so I could say things like "You know JUUUDE'S going to be here." and "Excuse me, but I need to go speak with JUUUDE." Why don't they want him there? Is it because of his mid-life crisis? I have a feeling that when rich, famous, white men go through their mid-life crisis that it's ten times worse than other non-those things people. Anyway, yet another mystery to solve.
Djimon Hounsou is up in there as well - I feel like he never gets enough credit for being in everything. And Ben Mendelsohn, who's frickin awesome as a villainous character.
We've got a great cast, some kick ass special effects (which btw they put their budget to good use - the bg's and fight scenes were dope), AND we got the 90's going on! We saw from the trailer that Capt Marvel smash-lands through the roof of a BlockBuster Video store. Memories, am I right?? Some of you are prob too young to remember the pain of renting a DVD season. I remember trying to rent epi's 3 & 4 or something, but they might only have 1 & 2 and 5-10. I'd have to search around at other BlockBuster's (especially if I promised a lovely lady on a date that we'd watch a certain episode when we got home) or say "eff it!" and watch it out of order. I used flirt with the clerks to ensure they'd lmk when the epi's I needed were in. Turnin BlockBuster tricks for episodes... the 90's were rough. The movie takes you down a fun lane of memories, if you remember those days tho.
In the midst of nostalgia Capt Marvel is snatched away from her successful life as a pilot, taken to space where she is made into the Capt Marvel that we come to know, finds herself back to earth to hang out with Sam L while piecing together the memories of her past, all while a war is going on with a shape-shifting alien race called "Skrulls"
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 - they kinda look like Yoda's people.
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Ooo! maybe tht's another mystery! It would fit too, because a lot of this movie feels like Star Wars - like Star Wars meets a 90's buddy cop sitcom.
I enjoyed the movie. I had a fun time with it. There are some compaints out there: Some wanted this movie to be deeper in story. Some wanted this movie to be more soaked in serious feminism. Some wanted this movie to be less soaked in general feminism. Some were bothered by Brie Larson, believing that she's too stoic in her delivery.
Um... I don't understand the complaints about feminism (on either side). If you are looking for the feminism, it's def there. BUT, if you simply want to enjoy a movie without too much serious world stuff in it, that's def there too. You'll see or not see whatever you want, I guess. I would compare this movie more to "Ant-Man" in tone. Not as goofy, but it stays fun and light.
Now, it definitely could have been a deeper movie - CM is kidnapped, violated, and lied to - but Marvel ain't dumb - they don't want THAT to be the kid's first impression of her - that might effect sales. Besides, we don't always have to be so serious and tense all of the time.
Ex. In Ant-Man, he always goes big at some point and ends up crushing people's property, and probably crushing people around him as well - we don't talk about that. And what about his manipulation of those ants?! When you think about it, that shit ain't right! But, we don't need to talk about it:)
And I'm of course going to defend my wife from another dimension (Breezy). A lot of her personality is implied from the flashbacks, but we see she's snarky, fun, and a bit of a loose canon. I understand to a degree what people are saying, but I think the blame goes more to the writers than Brie. Also, the fact that there's non-stop war going on throughout the movie, so there's not a whole lot of down time to get to know her in depth.
The writing to me, is the biggest flaw of this movie: The villainous character that Ben Mendelsohn plays brilliantly is inconsistent. In the beginning of the movie, he's no-nonsense "We need to kill her and anyone who gets in our way". Then, later on, it's like he joins in the 90's buddy cop sitcom fun. He's crackin jokes and talkin shit - which btw (and I admit this is a nitpick) how does he know how to use slang and idioms, if he'd never been to the planet before? I also have other questions about shape-shifting - like... they can change into whomever they see, but... how do they get the details right? - or do they? Let's say somebody has a third nipple and a bad case of athlete's foot... how could they get those deets down? or even the voice - how do they copy your insides? And how do they copy your mind enough to fool people? I'm getting way too deep into this, I suppose... more mysteries smh.
Can you imagine if we all had the ability to copy one another?? Which takes identity theft to a ho nova level. Also sexual harassment... I mean let's say you wanted to feel what Chris Hemsworth's butt felt like.... you kinda could whenever you wanted to. Like I said, we don't need to go deep with everything:)
The writing is also too quick; the whole movie is - we don't get to know much more about Fury or any of the characters really - especially CM. At the end of the movie, I found myself not being invested enough in Capt to care if a sequel is made. I mean, I care if my wife from another dimension gets more of that Marvel money, but that's something different. There's also a part in the movie when she realizes she has been lied to... she gets over this very quickly. Most of us with that type of power would have went on a drunken rampage, but she just throws a slight tizzy, and moves on to kick butt. It would have been a great time to show some human traits that would have helped us relate to this character.
I also fear that they might run into the prob they run into with Superman. Supe is sooooo powerful and he doesn't have many flaws. It's flaws that draw us to characters as much as anything. We didn't get enough of the human side of CM. BUT, all in all (like I said), I enjoyed the film. But, I didn't have any expectations going in. I think if you go in like that, you'll be satisfied.
Grade: B
I wonder if Brie had a dream about me as well. I wonder if she's blogging about some lovable, praphitic... and sexy black man whom she feels like she had a loving life with, but then woke up. She's probably telling someone right now "I was preggo with his beer child (idk what that is, but it's another dimension - diff rules) and he was about to comfort cuz I was upset over stubbing my toe." That's prob all it was right?? I guess we'll never know:)
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aj-draws · 6 years
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Future Sanders Sides Teacher AU Fic Ideas (Pt 1)
Just a little something I’ve been thinking about writing for a long time now??
 These are just ideas!! I might make oneshots here and there, but I want to try and make this into an actual story on Wattpad or something during summer vacation.
[[Thank you so very much for getting me to post this @royallyanxious you’re amazing :) Oh and btw I was that anon that said they liked your Logicality FBI agent AU fanfic. I’m super anxious but I hope you like this anyway!]]
[[Tag list: @izzynuggets, @diadrip]] 
Summary: The sides are teachers in a highschool that Thomas and his friends go to. 
-It’s also sort of a human AU as well. The sides will naturally have different last names, which I have not entirely decided yet. (+Afterschool they all have part time jobs across the street from each other but there’ll be more about that in a part two or three I’ll try getting to in the future)
[[Characters]]
Logan:
-Science teacher (Living Environment honors and/or Chemistry)  
-Part time job as a librarian
-Wants to keep being a teacher
-Speaks fluently in salty
-His choice of wear is a mix between casual and formal. Slicked back hair (with hair gel), tightly fitted polo shirts, leather belts, jeans and his signature blue and black tie 
-Definitely wears different ties with a theme fitted for each and every holiday 
-Can accurately quote books off the top of his head
-When he's too tired to do anything, he just binges Doctor Who and Sherlock with his classes
-(Based on this one Logan skit on Thomas’ insta I think y’all know what I’m talking about) He brought an entire toaster that he keeps in his classroom just so he could eat toast with Crofter’s 24/7.
-He eats Crofter’s with everything he eats and it scares everyone sometimes. Like he’ll just be casually teaching as he spreads the jam onto a slice of pizza and everyone’s a little concerned 
-Once during a test he sees one of his students struggling and suddenly their stomach rumbles loudly and as everyone laughs he just makes them a sandwich and tells them that they could take the test tomorrow
-Whenever a student doodles on one of their assignments, he finishes the picture with a crayon and he loves it when they see it and smile it makes his day
-He’s that teacher that you’re terrified of at first but then you realize they’re awesome (He has a resting bitchface that scares the heck out of everyone on the first day of school)
-Him being a sort of psychologist toward his students and they come to him (and Patton) with problems and mental breakdowns. He’s terrible at the comforting part of what to do when a person’s crying, but he’s excellent at figuring out the students’ problem or problems at helping them change their schedule/bad habits to fix it
-Him reassuring his students that-no matter what society says-just because they aren't good at math or science doesn't mean that they're useless and stupid+grades are not everything
-His students adoring him for being so realistic and understanding that school can be stressful sometimes
-His students calling him mom
-Him being so sleep deprived one day that as he was writing something on the board, he used incorrect grammar and once he got corrected, he just slowly walks over to his desk and sits under it for a solid minute 
-He hardly ever loses his cool. Ever. He handles those few immature kids in his class with ease, threatening them firmly or just completely roasting them so that they’re too busy laughing/being stunned to disrupt class. 
-But once he just gave up. He silently turns around and s n a p s. 
-He lets out this unholy screech that echoes throughout the school and shakes the nearby classrooms and scares away the birds perched on a tree outside and the chalk in his hand breaks in half the students are terrified they’ve never heard a sound of that volume from Logan’s mouth and they’re wondering if this is is what they’ll hear when the pits of hell breaks open at their feet-
-And then Logan just pauses. He takes a long drink from the water bottle on his desk, sets it down, adjusts his tie, clears his throat, then continues on with the lesson like nothing happened. Everyone agrees that that’s the scariest thing they’ve ever seen and heard in their lives. 
Patton:
-Art and home economics teacher (He has one homeroom art class in the morning, then a home ec class after lunch where he teaches stuff like cooking/baking, time management, money management, food, etc...)
-Part time job as a barista
-Wants to own his own bakery (or just be a stay at home dad)
-Speaks fluently in puns
-Whenever he has a student that he thinks is in a bad mood, he personally tapes some sort of dessert he baked to their locker on a plate with a nice post-it note taped to it
-His students call him dad
-During a rainy day, he sees some kid waiting for their late parent to pick them up outside at dismissal and he walks up to them and covers their head with his cardigan and invites them inside his classroom instead of waiting in the rain
-He frequently gets into pun/prank wars with his students
-Depending on how he’s feeling, when he sees a student sleeping in class, he’ll either blast an airhorn into their ear or lay a blanket on their back there’s no in between
-Once his class was so loud and rambunctious and he got so stressed out because he didn’t know how to deal with it that he just started crying and his students had to comfort him and no one dared to make him cry ever again
-He once forgot where he lost his glasses while he was cooking something and he asked his students to help him find them and they looked for them the entire period and no one could find it
-No one told him his glasses were right atop his head.
Roman:
-Drama teacher (Sometimes subs for the Chorus teacher, who is always absent because she's very sickly)  
-Part time job as a florist/works at a flower shop
-Wants to be a future actor on broadway
-Speaks fluently in Disney songs/musical references
-The most fashionable out of the four. He has a bunch of different outfits depending on the season. For winter and fall, he wears lots of sweaters, leather jackets, dress pants, scarves and sometimes flannel around the waist. For summer and spring, he’ll be wearing button downs, sunglasses, loose t-shirts, and jeans/shorts. 
-During play rehearsal, he puts on a red sash (and his Princey clothing basically) because he claims he needs to get ‘in the play spirit’ (when in reality he just likes wearing his old prince costume from a play he was in in the past)
-Not all of his students like him (he can be vv loud and extravagant), but his theater kids honestly adore him. They love his passion for singing, acting and musicals.
-They cheer Roman on and completely support his dream of performing on broadway one day. They secretly (and shamelessly) support him every chance they can get on social media.
-That teacher that, when he sees an artsy student, will catch them drawing during class and instead of telling them to pay attention will fanboy over their art and tell them how amazing it looks so usually art students also love him
-Knows the latest gossip about a lot of the students in the school
-Purposely casts the two students he knows has a crush on each other as the two main characters that have to stage kiss 
-One of his students gave him a Burger King crown and he cried and wore it for the rest of the week and attacked any other teacher that tried to take it off his head (*cough cough* Virgil *cough*)
Virgil:
-English teacher
-Part time job as a tattoo artist/works at a tattoo shop
-Wants to be a YouTuber/blogger (and write stories online)
-Speaks fluently in sarcasm/memes
-On the first day of school he wears normal teacher like clothing, but then the rest of the year he wears hoodies and casual t-shirts and sweatpants that he hides under a long jacket (he’s technically supposed to be all formal and whatever, but he ain’t got time for that)
-He dreams to get this original story he's been working on for years published one day. This story is basically a fantasy AU involving characters based off him, Logan, Patton and Roman.
-When he reads excerpts from books, his kids go wild because he can do Thomas' narrator/storyteller voice (the one where his voice drops a million octaves) 
-Whenever a woman/girl speaks, his voice jumps up a million octaves and he purposely squeaks/sounds like someone on helium and it gets his classes cracking up
-The kind of guy that uses the dankest of memes on worksheets/in presentations
-A lot of students really love him. The ones who like ELA are in love with his writing and storytelling. The one who don't even like ELA still like his class because he's good at keeping them engaged.
-Just like Logan, he has a natural talent for mercilessly roasting those immature kids that fool around in his class
-He'll randomly ramble away and sink into a hole of existential crisis but his students still like that side of him because it's just relatable.
-He's incredibly flexible and he can be found sitting/lying on places that probably shouldn't be sat/laid on. Once he was just casually reading a book sitting in one of those pretzels on his desk and a student screeched.
-He constantly gets compared to a cat. He hisses at Roman when he's frustrated with him, the students find him on top of furniture that isn't meant to be sat on, he says perfect as 'purrfect' and his noise twitches a lot. He used to be like nahh whatcha talking about until Roman gifted him with a cat plushie one day and he finally admitted that cats were his favorite animal (Bonus-His students joke about him being a furry a lot)
-His artsy students draw him fanart all the time and he loves it sooo much. (Bonus-Someone drew him, Pat, Roman and Lo as cats and he almost cried)
((There’s part one! Part two will either be about their part time jobs, or their interactions with each other as teachers. Feedback is greatly appreciated, thank you!!))
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pluckyredhead · 6 years
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Daredevil 101: Echo
Thanks for sticking with me through “Guardian Devil,” friends. Brighter days are ahead of us! Well, not for Matt, he’s going to continue to be abjectly miserable for about 12 years, but the comics are a lot better.
Today, Matt tries to process Karen’s death with a little rebound in “Parts of a Hole.” This is written by David Mack and the art is a collaborative process between him and Joe Quesada, blending Quesada’s more traditional (though still very experimental for the time) work with Mack’s paintings. The result is a book that definitely has some rough patches, but is visually stunning. (If Mack’s work looks familiar, it’s probably because his Alias covers were the inspiration for the Jessica Jones opening credits.)
[ETA: I was incorrect about the above - Mack did thumbnail layouts but the art is all Quesada.]
Also, it introduces Echo, and she’s the best.
This is how it starts:
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Yeah, Matt’s not in a great headspace these days.
I think this page is mostly Quesada, with some Mack influences in the background and hand lettering. I’d love to know their creative process for this story, because this was still the early days of digital art and sending huge files to collab on was no small thing.
With the new headquarters of Nelson and Murdock still under construction, Matt seems to spend most of his time wandering around his palatial home in a robe, playing piano:
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This isn’t really plot-relevant, but I couldn’t deprive you guys of it. Also, Matt must have made an insane salary working for Rosalind because he had no savings when she hired him and yet he apparently bounced back enough to get a place in Manhattan with floor-to-ceiling windows and fill it with a grand piano. (Quesada is the king of giving Matt ludicrous, implausibly expensive surroundings; in another miniseries Matt has an entire room dedicated to his collection of Japanese armor and weaponry.)
Matt is not the only piano player in this story, though. Meet Maya Lopez:
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Maya is Cheyenne (and presumably Latina, going by her last name, though that’s not confirmed in the text). She was born deaf, but she can remember and perfectly mimic anything she sees. When her father, Willie “Crazy Horse” Lincoln, was killed, his employer became her legal guardian. Once the guardian realized she was a prodigy, he spared no expense getting her the best schools and tutors to allow her to develop her gifts to their full potential.
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Maya is a celebrated concert pianist, boxer, performance artist, and more. Her body does everything she asks of it, and audiences love her story of overcoming the odds. (Don’t let the childish drawings fool you - she’s about Matt’s age. I like the conceit artistically, but it does make her come off as much younger than him or somehow emotionally arrested. I mean, I guess she is, since she hasn’t made peace with her father’s death, but no one’s more emotionally arrested that Matthew M. Murdock.)
And who is her munificent guardian? Oh, just Wilson Fisk.
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Fisk’s narration at the bottom picks up some of the themes of “Guardian Devil” - that Matt’s problems are because the women in his life have failed him - and it’s gross. Also gross? That he’s about to pimp out his foster daughter in yet another effort to destroy Matt from the inside. STOP TRYING TO BREAK HIS HEART, WILSON. JUST FUCKING SHOOT HIM.
But yeah, even though Fisk does seem to genuinely care about Maya - and she loves him and has no idea he’s anything but a legitimate “spice dealer” - he also recognizes that Matt will be drawn to her due to their shared life experiences, and so he sends her to see him on some legal pretense.
Before that, though, Matt and Foggy have a client (who they’re seeing at Matt’s house, since the office is under construction). His name is Lenny, he’s a former employee of Fisk’s who wants to flip on him, and he’s got a speech impediment that Matt has no trouble with but Foggy can’t quite get a handle on:
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The bullet grazes Matt’s cheek - and kills Lenny. Matt suits up and takes down the sniper - a weirdo of a hired killer named Murphy - but it’s too late to save their client.
The next day, Matt’s a little stiff and concussed, but Foggy’s a mess:
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I think Foggy’s OTT emotional reaction here is supposed to be comic relief, but it’s worth remembering that in the last storyline Foggy was drugged and sexually assaulted, arrested on false charges, fired by his own mother because she thought he was a rapist, and lost his second best friend in the world to a horribly violent murder. So yeah, not a shock that he’s fragile right now:
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Anyway, drink it in, friends: Matt holding Foggy while he cries and then someone assuming they’re boyfriends. Also, presumably Matt heard Maya come in but decided that Foggy was more important. Aw.
Maya tells Matt about the flimsy legal pretense Fisk sent her there on and they make plans to meet to discuss it in more detail while he’s wearing pants. (She’s an expert lip reader so as long as they’re facing each other there’s no problem with communication.) Matt is charmed because Maya is adorable and smells really good and Matt is profoundly vulnerable right now and also, as Wolverine once put it, “the biggest himbo that ever wore a pair of tights.” (That line is CANON, folks!)
Next, Maya goes to see Fisk and ask him a very important question:
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Who killed Maya’s father? Why, Daredevil, of course.
Having a specific person to blame has a profound effect on Maya. She does her best to process this new information through her art, in a one-woman show she writes and choreographs called Echo:
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The handprint on her face represents the bloody handprint her father left there as he died. (This page is pure Mack, btw.)
But just performing it isn’t enough. She needs revenge.
But first, she needs to meet Matt Murdock for coffee!
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I love Maya’s description of Matt up there, which could come out of pretty much anything on AO3 today. (Maybe Charlie Cox really took this comic to heart while he was researching the character?) I also love that she is serving up a serious 1999 Look (TM) while he looks like a pallbearer.
Anyway, they are utterly smitten with one another and it’s super cute. They agree to see each other again and part happily.
A few hours later, Echo attacks Daredevil:
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Right, so Matt obviously knows immediately that it’s Maya - I’m not even sure he knows she’s wearing a costume. (And the handprint doesn’t really hide her face anyway.) But unless Maya stops for long enough to read his lips, she’ll have no idea it’s Matt (even though he tries to tell her right away, which is admirable, but dude, don’t ever tell Foggy about that).
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I have to say, Maya’s costume makes sense for “I’m a dancer in the late 90s who is gonna go do some parkour and kill a guy, what do I have in my closet that works?” but it’s pretty half-assed design-wise. It’s...a sports bra and pants and Docs. The feathers are a really lazy “Also, Native American!” addition. My kingdom for a redesign and series by a Native artist. (Maya’s plotline here only touches on her Cheyenne heritage in passing, but there’s a later vision quest storyline that’s...dicey.)
The fight is broken up when some kids appear and Maya doesn’t want them witnessing violence. Matt’s left trying to figure out why Maya’s trying to kill him.
Meanwhile, the Lenny case isn’t over! See, Lenny has a twin brother named Larry, and both he and Murphy (the sniper) are willing to testify against Fisk. The DA’s office makes Foggy a special ADA due to his familiarity with Fisk’s history and general badassery. To rattle him, Fisk hires Rosalind:
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The absolute pair on you, Franklin. My God.
Taking this case is a sublimely shitty move on Rosalind’s part, of course, on multiple levels. (And yes, I know I said last time it would be the last time we saw her, but I’d forgotten about this. She’ll be back one more time in a few years, too.)
Foggy loses...and kind of flips out, openly calling Fisk a murderer and accusing him of buying off the jury. It’s not stated outright, but I have to imagine his mother coolly opposing him in court after abandoning him without a second thought didn’t help his emotional state.
As Fisk leaves the court, he’s attacked by Larry, looking to avenge his brother. Daredevil shows up, but too late:
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Fisk falls into the river and is presumed dead. Matt takes the gun from Larry and is photographed holding it - and Maya, seeing the photos and the headlines, thinks Daredevil just killed her second father.
Meanwhile Foggy, still in his role as an ADA (with no acknowledgment from the story that he used to be DA), is tearing through Fisk’s organization while, uh, Matt faps to it:
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ILU FOGGY YOU BEAUTIFUL AVOCADO
Oh, but Fisk’s not dead, of course:
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Nope, just hanging out in the sewer eating rats. This is like the third time, idk why Daredevil characters always end up in the sewers but they super do.
Oh, and we get so Fisk backstory which clearly informed the show:
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Baby Fisk kills some random dude with a hammer, not his dad - we don’t actually know what happens to his parents - but the hammer is there, as is the working class household full of fighting.
Meanwhile, Echo goes after Daredevil again - but when the cut from the earlier bullet graze opens up on his cheek, she remembers Matt’s injury and finally recognizes him:
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Sigh. Did we really need that much sideboob, Quesada?
Anyway, Maya finally draws the inevitable conclusion: Fisk killed her father, not Daredevil. It’s not entirely clear why Willie would’ve asked his murderer to care for his child or why Fisk did it (side note: I’d love to know what kind of relationship, if any, Maya had with Fisk’s son).
And so Maya finally confronts her father’s killer:
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Maya leaves town to figure herself out. Matt returns to the slow process of healing. And Fisk? Fisk gets the ironic ending. I’m not sure exactly where Maya shot him, but, well...
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Next up: Bendis!
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My Friend has been Falsely Accused of Tracing So I Will Defend Him
Okay I accidentally deleted the blog I posted this one because I’m a dumbass, so I’ll just repost it here even though I don’t use this blog anymore, but apparently I still have followers. Bless caches because I was able to get this back from google caches so I don’t have to retype everything. I added further evidence and refutes to claims that were not in my original post btw.
Anyways, I am making this post to help out my good friend @5ru9 aka Falco who has been recently accused of tracing/copy pasting other people’s / official art!
I’ve known Falco for over 3 years, and we’ve grown as artists together. Once in a while we give each other advice on art (thanks for the mech and armor advice and teaching me how you line and color!), but most of the time we just meme each other.
Anyways, a lot of people have pointed out that they’ve seen him livestream before, and he’s already posted some of his block outs and other wips as proof that he does not trace in his post here:
http://5ru9.tumblr.com/post/168277137427/hello-i-have-been-informed-about-a-callout-post
To further prove his claim with solid evidence, I shall present to you!
Times he’s asked for advice on his art, or I randomly decided to mention things I notice in his WIPs!
Exhibit A-1:
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A Tenkai Knight he made up! I pointed out a few things I thought were awkward about the perspective in his WIP.
Exhibit A-2:
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He started working on this way back in July and didn’t finish it until much later because he was working on several other pieces at the same time. I suggested lowering the eyebrows and drawing the eyes a bit narrower to get more of the playful expression he was aiming for. In his final piece here, you can see that Falco continued to refine the piece.
By the way! The reason he sometimes posts a lot of detailed artworks one shortly after the other is because he sometimes works on multiple pieces at once! And then finishes coloring them around the same time.
Exhibit A-3
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Falco and I spent good time trying to figure out why he felt like something was wrong with his sketch! I thought maybe it was the trapezius and I decided to red line (or blue line i guess) it so it’d be easier for him to see approximately where i thought the line should go to fix it.
Exhibit A-4:
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The gif-ing process turned white bg into blue… anyways! Falco showed me an early version of his Tenkai Knights OC that he eventually used in an April Fool’s joke to pass off as a new character in the series. He mastered the tenkai style enough that at first glance, people really did believe it was official! Like you had to get a good look to realize Shiyu was not really a real new character! Btw I had to go into my old twitter acc to find this…. (Edit: the gif wasn’t working bc it was too big so i had to make it smaller… and choppier and stuff to fit the mb max)
Well now that brings us into!!!
Exhibit B
Some of his old art!! (I’m so sorry falco i’ll be exposing your ancient art to ppl now)
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Here you can see his progress from 2014 Tenkai fan art to early 2015! It starts looking more and more like the official art, which is what he was going for.
For reference, here’s what the character Ceylan Jones/Washizaki looks like:
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I blocked out fan art by everyone except falco (which i marked) that shows up in this google search. Everything else is official art. The two fan arts by falco you see here are more recent, the angel one being from 2016 and the chicken one from 2017 (i think he also made a version with sonic instead of the chicken? lol). They’re both on his dA accounts btw! The 2017 one really looks like official art, doesn’t it? But it’s his artwork! He practiced a LOT to reach that point, and I hope the earlier arts I showed above this one are enough to convince you in his art progression! Side note: i only used images w/ceylan because 1. i’m biased because ceylan is my favorite character and 2. he drew ceylan a lot because ceylan is his favorite character Also you can see his handle change from s3iwashi to burningbraven. 5ru9 is is a pretty recent handle.
ANYONE WHO HAS BEEN IN THE TENKAI FANDOM FOR A WHILE CAN VOUCH FOR HIM!!!!!
And now for the last one,
Exhibit C
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WHAT? WHO IS THIS???
This is my favorite character from a Chinese series called AOTU World! His name is Grey, or 格瑞。I commissioned Falco to draw Grey for me, and let me tell you it would be IMPOSSIBLE for him to have copied any of this. Why? Because the donghua is 3D and the manhua’s art is very inconsistent!
Let me show you the reference pictures I gave him to work with!
They’re all in my gdrive folder here: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1CqwH5KS-pHX0ZqLHQpoIZBi6W-gsU_Tz
This is all official art from the manhua, except the 3D model is from the donghua. Look at how inconsistent the references are! There’s no way he could have copy and pasted or traced this! Grey doesn’t even do this particular pose anywhere. lol. I told Falco “give him a cool sword pose”. (I’m sorry for being so vague, Falco! But it turned out great!!) The style he ended up drawing in was a mixture of all of them.
Btw!! here’s the blockout and the sketch he sent me before I sent my payment for the commission!! You can see his construction in the block out!! The arm construction and leg construction is light, but it’s there. You can also see the block out below the sketch. Notice he actually fixed the leg length from block out -> sketch?
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ARGUMENTS AGAINST SPECIFIC ACCUSATIONS
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LOOK, thte actual drawing doesn’t even match the sprites that closely. Pay attention to the collar especially. The whole frankensteining the image and then painting over it thing is just way more effort than drawing it himself. They don’t even match that well in the overlays. Like wow it’s such a crime to try and stay on model.
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WHO WOULD EVEN NEED TO TRACE A MOUTH LIKE THAT? IT’S SO EASY TO DRAW. I CAN DRAW IT PERFECTLY JUST BY LOOKING AT IT. (well i AM an animator so I also do style mimicking)
Doesn’t the fact that you have to edit the sprites to match his artwork prove that you’re just a tryhard in making up fake evidence and not a tryhard enough at art since you think it’s so impossible for people to draw characters on model?
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Yes he referenced the broom and possibly the heels from this image, but your overlays for the leg and arms are disingenuous and you know it. The leg positions are different, and the overlay doesn’t even match up. Face tracing also makes no sense. You literally stretched the mouth to try and make it fit but it still doesn’t fit. Do you really think it’s that hard to draw mouths and eyes in the DR style? DR faces are really simple to emulate. Also you fool, if you follow Falco’s artwork enough, you’d realize the way he draws bodies is actually rather consistent even as he does different styles. Especially when it comes to hands. His way of drawing hands is how I recognize his art and know right away it’s his art and not official art or a trace (also his coloring style). The heels he drew are also reminiscient of how he typically draws shoes/feet. he draws them bulkier. The other art has dainty heels. At most he referenced how backside works because he’s used to drawing sneakers.
Also come on, if all you referenced from an image was a broom because you liked the style (his is also clearly drawn by himself since you can’t overlay it on the other one. like i said he mostly used the style as a reference for how-to-broom) and you referenced pieces from many other images, are you going to list every single thing you referenced? While yeah it’d be nice to, it’s a little ridiculous to expect all 5-20 references whenever they post the image. It’s a thing where, if someone asks, you’d tell them, but it’s too much to list all of it. This isn’t a 20 page thesis.
If it’s such a crime, then holy shit sue all those people who parody other people’s comics and sue everyone who dares!!! to ever draw something remotely similar to someone else. Dang.
Art doesn’t live in a vacuum.
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Okay, this one is just plain stupid. You distorted the sprite to match it up with his, but what would be the point for him to distort it just to trace? Also if he traced, can you explain the rest of the fingers that are drawn nicely but clearly different from the sprite? Also the thumbs don’t even match up. His faces more downward while the sprite is facing more forward. Also explain the turned body in Falco’s sketch, then!! And the hair! OH WAIT YOU CAN’T EXPLAIN IT BY ANY OTHER WAY THAN HE DREW IT HIMSELF!!! BECAUSE NO SPRITES MATCH IT AND YOU CAN’T FIND ANY SPRITES TO DISTORT ENOUGH TO EVEN GET CLOSE TO MAKING FAKE EVIDENCE FOR IT.
By the way, the style he drew it in is closer to the drv3 than this sprite. while it’s pretty much the same style as the older games, drv3′s art is more refined than the older games. Falco’s art is also more refined as you can see. (wow not only did falco’s art improved from back when we first met; even professional artists improve. shocker. /s)
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Dude what the hell? The overlays don’t even match up even ifi you tried to frankenstein them. And these are really common poses at really common angles, and once again, must every single thing we reference from be listed in the description of every place we post an image? Let me just list all 30 videos and 50 images i used as reference for one of my prints. jfc.
As for the saihara animation based on the digimon opening animation? It was pretty clear to everyone that it’s some kind of parody. Many people when making parody animations don’t mention the original video either?? It’s a fun thing for fans of the franchise to recognize the reference themselves. Yes he could have said it was the digimon opening on the description, but at least he didn’t say he thought of the idea himself? And if you talk to him about the animation, he will openly tell you it’s from digimon. And the fact that you think it’s a trace despite how much the overlays do NOT work out is practically proof that you’re just doing this maliciously and hoping that saying he traces enough with shoddy evidence will make people believe you.
ALSO PEOPLE LITERALLY TRACE ANIMATIONS TO MAKE PARODIES OF, DOWN THE STYLE WHERE ALL THEY CHANGE IS THE HAIR AND OUTFIT, AND YET SOMETHING WITH DIFFERENCES EVEN DOWN TO THE STYLE LIKE THIS IS SOMETHING YOU THINK IS A TRACE? Do you need a new pair of glasses?
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I was gonna ignore this one because it was the same as a lot of the others, but you literally erased Falco’s face line so it would match the sprite, and you covered the bigger boobs Falco gave her, and totally ignored that the angle doesn’t even match properly. Like you covered parts of his sketch in your overlay just to make it look more like it matches, but if you actually fucking overlayed it correctly, even with squashing it, it won’t fit. (Also sorry to point this out Falco, but the circles on your goggle lenses are too small compared to the sprite; Maybe if you actually traced like this person claims you’re doing, they’d be perfectly like the sprite. OH BUT WAIT YOU DREW IT YOURSELF SO OF COURSE THERE’S SOME DIFFERENCES. JUST LIKE HOW EVEN THOUGH ALL YOUR OTHER WORKS ARE REALLY CLOSE TO THE STYLE AND PRETTY MUCH ON MODEL, THEY’RE NOT EXACTLY THE SAME WITH THE SPRITES! SHOCKER...!)
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HOLY FUCK. I already pointed out and gave evidence that Falco started on the Nier Automata drawing waaaaaaay before he posted the actual picture. The 2 sketches are sketches! They don’t take a super long time. I busted out 10 inktobers in 1 day. (thumbnails of my artwork below)
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Look I even even lined and colored 5 fairly detailed chibis in 1 day (i did the sketches earlier though. btw i hand drew the plaid on ray. it was annoying)
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At the moment I have 5 wips. They’ll likely all be done around the same time. I know Falco often has multiple wips as well, and sometimes he also finishes some of them close to each other. Some artists (like my friend Fish) can pump out extremely detailed paintings in less than a day. WOW some artists can draw at a fairly fast rate. WHO KNEW? (manga artists in weekly magazines pump out 15-20 pages of manga in a week)
He’s still developing a style; he’s mostly doing style mimics of series he likes in the mean time.
At the moment he’s mostly experimenting with the drv3 style, but he was practicing p5 earlier. By the way, he DESIGNED a phantom outfit for mishima. Who the heck would he copy that from? He made it up because he loved mishima and wanted to make him part of the gang in some AU fan art. Mishima doesn’t have artwork like this for him to trace, so it should be obvious it’s his own work.
And the pokemon and crash bandicoot ones are actually not that close. The pokemon one looks like a good attempt at imitating the pokemon style, but since he hasn’t practiced it enough, you can tell it’s a little off model because, well, he drew it himself and doesn’t practice the pokemon style a lot. Same with the crash one. Had it been a trace, with his level of control over his lines (which you can’t refute), it would have been much closer.
And you act like it’s a crime to imitate others’ art style. It’s really not. What is wrong with you? Do you want to slow down animation production by only letting the character designer draw everything? Or do you want animation where the art has 0 semblance of consistency because all the artists draw in vastly different styles? lol. What do you have against artists that try to stay on model?
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LOL THIS IS ONE IS SO STUPID WHERE DO I EVEN START?
Oh, I KNOW. Why don’t I do that same pose with my own hands?
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IT’S A MIDDLE FINGER, YOU IDIOT.
Just because YOU don’t know basic anatomy and can’t tell a middle finger from a pinky, doesn’t mean everyone else is as incompetent as you. He wasn’t doing the rock-on hand pose (sry idk if that pose actually has a name lol), and he’s drawn the rock-on hand pose properly before.
Closing statement
I believe I covered a lot of things and provided a lot of evidence here that Falco and his other friends did not cover in his defense against the false accusations.
I even added more counter arguments in this repost because apparently my original post wasn’t enough to convince people.
Perhaps the person calling him out meant well (no, I doubt it because they made a new side blog just to diss him because they knew if they did it on their actual blog, they’d be called out for being a jerk), but they did not do enough digging to find out if their claims were true or not (and they probably know well enough that they MADE UP THEIR EVIDENCE).
If you’re going to make a call out post, please make triple sure sure of everything before you accuse people. Talk to them first. Talk to those who know them too.
Many jobs require you to be able to draw characters exactly in the style given. Animators for example! There are multiple animators working on one series, and they all need the skill to draw consistently! Some games also have teams that need to be able to draw in the same style so they don’t have to leave everything up to one person. Comic artists often have assistants that help them draw background characters, but those background characters can’t be too different from the main style either.
As for the people who believed the call out post before, it’s perfectly understandable. I am also guilty of falling for similar posts in the past. Due to that, I decided it was best to double check before retweeting (i say retweet because i use twitter far more than tumblr these days. heck i almost never post anything on this blog) things, and if i wasn’t sure, I would just leave it be.
I hope my post was able to convince you on Falco’s innocence and all his hard work. And if you already believed him but checked out this post anyways… Thanks! ObligatoryPleaseWatchAotuWorld.
And again:
Art does NOT exist in a vacuum. All artists are influenced by each other and MANY artists, especially professionals, use a lot of references, whether it be from photographers, their own pictures, others’ artwork, life, or whatever. We all use many different resources. If you’re going to say that’s wrong, you just dismissed millions of artists in the world.
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localqueerdad · 7 years
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how this world keeps spinning - chapter 7
chapter title: catch me i’m falling.
pairing: jeremy/trevor word count: 4141 a/n: *slides in months late with a smoothie and throws you this trash* if you’re still reading this just know that i love you because god have i lost faith in my writing ability. thanks, depression! everyone should go tell jack aka jackbaettillo on tumblr that they’re the best person ever because i probably would have lost my mind writing this chapter if it wasn’t for them. i have no clue when i’m gonna be able to finish this because university is so draining (i got in btw!! yay!!) and my mental health is very fragile but i’m trying!!
[read on ao3]
Trevor has been dealing with a migraine from hell for approximately twenty-six hours and counting.
Part of the pain could be attributed to the fact that he hadn’t been drinking enough water. Or eating, really. He’s been too busy being caught up in this whirlwind of chaos to deal with basic needs. There was a goal that he had to reach. He could drink later.
The other contributor was, of course, the Corpirate and his collection of goons. That, and the way he was currently being tormented by some guy named Stevens who, for whatever reason, held a very big grudge against him.
All Trevor wanted was to sit down and drink the strongest liquor he could get his hands on to try and get Jeremy’s betrayed expression out of his head, but nope. The second he sat down on some broken crate in the corner of the warehouse where they were currently situated, this asshole storms over.
Stevens was a small guy. Blond, with a nose that had obviously been broken in the past and a missing tooth that was visible whenever he sneered. Which was often. His voice was fairly high pitched, which was why Trevor began to find it incredibly funny that he was being yelled at by this short guy who sounded like a budget chew toy.
“Something fucking funny to you, pal?” Stevens yells, balling his fists at his side and puffing out his chest. His raised voice draws the attention of everyone in the immediate vicinity, and Trevor sighs as he pushes himself up to his feet.
He puts his left hand in his pocket and looks the smaller man over once, scoffing. “Look, dude, I’m not in the mood for a fight.”
This only appears to rile Stevens up further, as well as attracting them a small crowd.
“Why?” He growls, practically standing on his tiptoes to make himself appear taller. “You afraid?”
“Of a balding wannabe Chicken Little look-a-like? Not particularly.”
This draws some snickers from the crowd, and Trevor turns to walk away from the whole thing when suddenly Stevens grabs his shoulder, spins him around, and punches him in the face. He reels back, dazed from the blooming pain in his cheek, and stares at Stevens incredulously. The guy shakes out his fist, clearly hurt from punching bone. Fucking amateur.
“You want a fight?” Trevor snarls, rubbing his arm against his cheek and getting into a better stance. “I’ll give you a damn fight.”
With that, he curls his fists, grits his teeth and lashes out with one fist toward Stevens’ stomach. It lands and he doubles over with a gasp. Trevor upper cuts his chin, sending the smaller man spinning backwards to land flat on his ass.
Stevens scrambles back to his feet, cringing away from the crowd which has started to heckle and cheer. They’re making a lot of noise. Trevor finds that he doesn’t particularly care.
Stevens gets Trevor with a punch to the nose, but he’s tucked his thumb into his fist and a clear crack resounds through the air. He gasps in pain, and Trevor seizes the opportunity to grab him by his hair – although there wasn’t much of it, there was enough that he could get a good grip – and kicks his knees out from under him.
He falls, but pulls Trevor down with him, and they start rolling and punching. One moment he has Stevens pinned down, whacking him in the face with one hand and grabbing the front of his jacket with the other. The next, Stevens has Trevor flipped and is raining hell down upon him. Trevor bucks his hips up, tackling Stevens so that they’re back in their original position.
They’re both bloody at this point; Stevens’ nose is ruined, blood gushing from it, as well as a badly split lip and bruises already blossoming across his cheek. Trevor knows that his face is in a similar state– he can feel a growing black eye and when he brushes his sleeve against his nose, it comes away bloody.
Dammit. He really liked this hoodie.
Trevor lands another hit, and then another, and then another. Everything goes black. It feels like only a second later when a pair of strong arms tear Trevor away from Stevens. Trevor fights against whoever is pulling him to his feet, cursing and yelling, but the dude is way too muscly. Trevor hates super muscly people.
He kicks as the man pulls him in one direction. Toward the Corpirate’s ‘office’. He allows his body to go limp, dragging his feet along the concrete floor. The man carrying him grunts and throws him onto the ground when they reach the door of the saddest excuse for an office that has ever existed.
Since the warehouse had been abandoned for a while, all it had previously contained was a few dozen empty crates and its fair share of spider webs. The Corpirate had demanded his goons build him an office so that he could work in peace, and the result was two improvised walls made of wooden crates stacked up in the corner of the building. It’s almost as ugly as the Corpirate himself.
The door is a poorly attached curtain, which has an ugly pattern adorned onto it that reminds Trevor of whisky and dirty motel rooms. He hates it. It’s heavy to push out of the way and Trevor finds himself having to practically shoulder his way through.
The Corpirate is lounging in a plush armchair, feet resting on top of an oversized desk next to an expensive looking laptop. It’s a sparse space with an intimidating chill in the air that sends shivers down Trevor’s spine. There is no chair in front of the desk, so he finds himself standing before the Corpirate and fixating his gaze on the ground beneath his feet.
No one speaks for a minute or two. The silence is ghostly and Trevor can hear muffled voices from outside. He wonders if he should care if Stevens is still breathing. He doesn’t.
“I can’t figure you out for the life of me.” The Corpirate’s voice is gritty, brows furrowed in displeasure as he stares Trevor down. “First you let those asshole brats get away, and now this? It seems like you want to end up dead in a ditch.”
Better than being here, he thinks bitterly. He knows better than to say it. Silence is the best option here.
The Corpirate swings his feet down and sits forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “You gave me some bullshit reason why you couldn’t get those Fakes earlier. What are you hiding, boy?”
Trevor swallows the lump forming in his throat, fighting to keep his knees from shaking. “Nothing. I told you the truth,” he breathes steadily. “They heard us pulling up and ran for it. We were too slow. It was a mistake.”
“I don’t have time for mistakes.” The Corpirate slams his hands down on top of the oak and pushes himself up out of his chair so that he can meet Trevor’s eyes. Trevor doesn’t look away. “You have no idea what’s at stake here, you fool. My entire reputation, my livelihood, everything that I have spent so long building!”
He’s screaming at this point, finger raised and jabbing at the air, face red with rage and Trevor feels nothing.
“You did this. You ruined everything. I ought to kill you right now, you little rat- “
“I can still help you.”
The Corpirate stops, his arm falling to his side as he retakes his seat. Trevor carries on.
“I know all of the Fakes secrets. I can get you the information you need to get what you want. You were right. They don’t deserve to have what should be yours.”
Something deep inside of Trevor breaks when those words spill from his lips. A piece of Jeremy, perhaps. He is overwhelmed by the sudden knowledge that it’s too late for him. That he will most likely never see Jeremy again. Maybe that’s for the best. The last time he’d seen Jeremy, he had looked at Trevor like he hadn't recognised him. Like he was a monster. The shock and heartbreak that had blanketed his face was always present in his mind whenever Trevor closed his eyes.
If he chose to be the person Jeremy believed he was (the soft, kind hearted Trevor who would never hurt anyone on purpose), Trevor wouldn’t last a day here. He had to kill that side of him; for now, at least. After all of this is over, if he makes it out alive, he’ll try and be that person again. But he has to adapt to the situation at hand, and fast.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the Corpirate humming. The sight of an ugly, poisonous smile creeping across his hideous face. Trevor tries to hide how he shudders at that smile.
“Alright,” the Corpirate finally says, looking Trevor up and down appreciatively. “You would be a very useful asset. But you listen to me, boy. One step out of line,” he pauses, leaning forward in his chair, “and you’re dead. Got it?”
Trevor swallows. “Got it.”
A part of Trevor switches off the second he says those words. Or dies. He doesn’t really know. He listens as the Corpirate reveals his plan to take the Fakes down, to ruin them and destroy everything they’ve built. To take his empire back. It’s a good plan. Well thought out – mostly. There were a few holes in it that Trevor knew he could exploit.
What was most disconcerting was the revelation that there could possibly be a mole inside the Fakes. Or, if not a mole, a bug in the apartment. Trevor wouldn’t put it past the Corpirate to play dirty.
Trevor could play just as dirty.
When the Corpirate asked him what he could do, Trevor said explosives. He had had some previous experience with them and besides, Michael had taught him a fair bit before they had carried out their heist some time ago.
Shit. He couldn’t really remember how long ago that heist was. Too much had happened since then. It felt like there was a deep, unfillable gap in his chest, a numbness spreading throughout his nerves. He missed them. He missed them like hell. And he had never hurt this much before.
He couldn’t afford to go right there right now. There was a plot to be hatched.
The Corpirate talks for what feels like forever; about revenge and weapon deliveries and all sorts of other bullshit. It’s impressive, really. The only other person Trevor knows that could even talk for this long is Michael –
No. He told himself he wouldn’t think about them. There was no time for it.
Thinking about Michael would lead to wondering what stupid thing Gavin had done today, what novel Geoff was currently reading. About Ryan sharpening his knives intimidatingly while Jack sang off key in the kitchen. And then there was Jeremy. Always Jeremy. Everything in Trevor’s life seemed to start and end with Jeremy.
He doesn’t know how to unlearn Jeremy’s touch, unhear the sound of his voice, his laughter. The curve of his smile or how he had to tilt his head up to meet Trevor’s eyes. He wanted to burn the memories out, scrub at his skin until it is red and raw and bloody. But even that couldn’t save him now.
And to think that he hadn’t even recognised the feeling of falling until it was too late.
-
Jeremy is seriously considering lying face down on the hallway carpet and dying.
After Ryan had driven him and Gavin home, they had been met with a stony silence from the second they stepped into the apartment. Jack was sitting on the couch, her shoulders tensed and her arms crossed. She hadn’t looked at them.
“Michael got back fine. He wouldn’t say a word to me, but I saw him talking to Geoff. He’s not happy.”
Jack was frowning in the way she only did when something had seriously pissed her off. It was never a good thing to be on the receiving end of her fury. She may be patient and kind, but she’d always had a very low tolerance for bullshit.
Which was why she would be angry at him for a long time; he couldn’t tell her the truth, and she would be able to deduce that he was lying. Jack was incredibly smart – of course she was, she planned most of their heists. She was integral to the crew because of her skillsets, but she was also Jeremy’s friend. Maybe she would realise that he was lying by the way he would avoid her keen gaze or the way the corner of his lips turned down. Whatever the giveaway was, it wasn’t going to end well for him.
He lied to her anyway.
And that’s what brought him to where he is now. Standing outside Geoff’s door at one in the afternoon sharp. He had gone to bed earlier that day, not wanting to have to look at the disappointment on Jack’s face, Ryan’s narrowed eyes or Gavin’s guilty smile.
But now he has to face the consequences. He really is not looking forward to it.
Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door once before letting his hand fall to his side. A moment passes before he hears a gruff voice on the other side tell him to come in.
His hands are shaking. Why are they shaking? None of this is his fault, Trevor had been the one to insist upon the stupid idea to take the Corpirate down for good. Stupid, self-sacrificing Trevor. Oh, how Jeremy hates how much he loves him.
Jeremy opens the door, making a conscious effort to control his breathing. He has no idea what he is going to say.
Geoff’s room is a mess. It strikes a chord within Jeremy, the wrongness of it setting off every alarm bell he has. What is usually a decently organised space now looks as if a miniature tornado had run rampant. Books are half open on the ground, carelessly shoved into every nook and cranny, and piled precariously one on top of another. Geoff loves his books. That’s the first red flag.
The second is in the form of the papers strewn haphazardly over Geoff’s desk. They cover nearly every square inch of space and Jeremy can barely read what is written on them. Some of them are written in what is clearly Geoff’s handwriting; the distinctively large scrawl and spidery shaped letters unmistakably his. Others are typed with bold titles and have been annotated vigorously in red ink. His laptop lies underneath a particularly large clump of papers, closed.
The third and final red flag is Geoff himself. The way his shoulders are slumped in defeat, how he leans back in his chair and sighs when Jeremy enters. The lines on his forehead seem to be more pronounced than ever and he looks at Jeremy as if he barely recognises who he is. His jaw is clenched.
Three strikes, and he’s out.
“Jeremy,” Geoff says, folding his hands on the desk, “sit down.”
He does so, praying that the ground beneath his chair would somehow open up and swallow him whole. It doesn’t. Bummer.
Geoff rubs a hand over his face and reaches under his desk, grabbing a mug that must have been placed on the floor. He takes a sip, carefully scrutinising Jeremy.
Jeremy breaks the silence by, as usual, saying something completely inappropriate for the situation at hand.
“Is that whiskey or rum?”
“Don’t be insensitive. I stopped drinking a few weeks back.” Geoff sets the mug down on top of some papers, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh shit, I didn’t – how did I not know this?” Jeremy feels his cheeks go red with embarrassment, mentally scolding himself for already making things awkward.
“I haven’t exactly been hiding it. I guess you were just busy with other things.”
That makes him feel like shit. How he had not only missed something so important – and it was, because alcohol was so fucking hard to kick – but how it had really helped Geoff. He looks better. Lighter. Sure, he was always going to be stressed out to hell and back, but he appears healthier than Jeremy has ever seen him.
And he had missed all of that because he was too caught up in his own little world. Jeremy had never thought of himself as a selfish person until now, but in this moment, he is the scum of the earth.
“I’m sorry, Geoff,” he breathes, rubbing his sweaty hands on his thighs. “But hey, that’s good!”
Geoff allows himself a tiny smile directed at his own hands. “It is.” His smile fades as he looks back up at Jeremy. “That’s not what we’re here to talk about, though.”
Jeremy doesn’t say anything. He isn’t sure if there is anything he could possibly say that would make a difference now.
“You need to tell me exactly what Trevor has done. You need to tell me what happened last night that was so bad Michael came back shaking and refusing to speak to anyone. Why you’ve barely left your room since Trevor left.” He takes a breath, shaking his head. “I need to know everything, Jeremy. Otherwise I can’t do anything to help you.”
He’s speechless. Huh. On a typical day, Jeremy would never run out of things to say. He always had a response lined up, a new idea already formed, his thoughts bouncing around at a rapid pace in his mind. But this isn’t a typical day, and he is left clueless and floundering in the coldness of the room’s atmosphere.
There are no words to describe the choice Trevor made. To explain why – Jeremy doesn’t even know why. Or rather, he does. He just doesn’t understand it. But Geoff is waiting, like a fuse ready to be lit, and Jeremy cannot lose his family as well. He’d rather die.
Gazing at a spot on the floor, he opens his mouth before promptly shutting it again. Why is it so hard for him to do this? He has to tell Geoff. He has no other choice. It’s not breaking his promise – it’s stopping Geoff, his boss, from exploding. “I don’t know how to – it’s a lot, Geoff.”
Geoff stares at him, regarding him analytically. “Good thing I have a lot of time, then.”
That’s when Jeremy starts crying.
What begins as a single tear escaping the corner of his eye quickly turns into a downpour. He slaps a hand over his mouth and screws his eyes shut, cursing himself for breaking down like this. Trying to keep the sobs in proves to be futile – it is a violent, loud noise which erupts from him. His body is trembling, his other hand gripping his shirt and he leans forward in an effort to stop the tears.
Anger rises in him. He’s pathetic. Crying in his boss’s office because of his – because of Trevor. Sure, this had been a long time coming, considering everything he had bottled up inside, but it doesn’t mean that he isn’t furious at himself for losing control.
In the middle of his impromptu pity party, he looks up to find Geoff suddenly kneeling in front of him. His eyes are tight and worried, his mouth curled down in a frown as he gently places a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Geoff says softly, “you’re okay. You’re okay.”
Jeremy shatters.
Geoff pulls Jeremy in for a hug, shushing him tenderly and rubbing small circles into his back as he sobs on Geoff’s shoulder. It feels like he is being ripped to shreds from the inside out, the fabric of his lungs tearing apart at the seams. Everything is too much. And he can’t do this alone anymore.
Pulling back from Geoff’s embrace and avoiding his gaze, Jeremy tells him everything. The whole story. The words spill from him, and he tells him about how he had started to care about Trevor, how scared he had been that day Michael had been injured but he had thought it was all over then. How terrified he was when Murphy’s dead body had appeared outside their apartment, his concern for Trevor, their near kiss.
That, after the heist had gone wrong and he had been injured, Trevor had started growing distant and Jeremy had known what he was about to do. He had known and he hadn’t done anything about it because he didn’t want to acknowledge that it was real. Because maybe, if he ignored it and was good enough for once in his life, that Trevor wouldn’t make that choice. That Trevor would stay. But he didn’t.
Whilst Jeremy talks through his tears, Geoff doesn’t say a word. He just observes, calmly, the lines around his eyes tight. He listens as Jeremy tells him how much he blames himself, how he hates himself for not being able to stop Trevor from leaving and that’s when Geoff holds up a hand to stop him.
“Okay, I know I need to be listening and I am,” he pauses, making direct eye contact with Jeremy, “but you need to know that isn’t true. None of this is your fault.”
Jeremy tries to disagree, but Geoff waves his hand in dismissal. “It isn’t, Jeremy. Trevor made his own decisions. He’s responsible for that. Not you.”
Logically, Jeremy is aware that Geoff is right. And fundamentally, Jeremy is a logical person. It’s that tiny part of his brain though, the bit that screams doubt and blame and shame. It’s roaring in his head and he cannot quiet its voice. Geoff is there, at least, and Jeremy finds some solace in him. He nods, and Geoff seems to deflate.
“Alright,” Geoff pushes himself off the ground and leans back against his desk. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do.”
“What – what do you mean?” Jeremy’s voice is cracked and breathy, and he finds himself grimacing at the sound of it.
“Did he say how long his plan was going to take?”
“No. He just said he had to do it himself. He – he knows where all the warehouses are and everything. Said it would be easier to bring it down from the inside and that we shouldn't get involved.”
Geoff sighs, rubbing his chin. “That sounds like Trevor.” He takes a moment to parse the new information over, his eyes going slightly unfocused. “Here’s the deal. We let this whole thing play out – “
“Wait, what? That’s way too dangerous – “
“Don’t interrupt me.” Geoff glares at Jeremy who hastily shuts up. “Right. We let Trevor’s plan play out. Guessing on how predictable the Corpirate is, he’s probably going to target our next heist. Which is why we need to be careful. The second any of the crew are put in harm’s way, that’s when I’ll act. And before you say anything, Trevor is a part of the crew. But he decided to go off and attempt this on his own. He can deal with the consequences of it.”
“That’s fair.”
And it was. Jeremy got it. That didn’t make it any easier. He stands, nodding at Geoff and offering him a small smile, which he returns. His head aches as he walks away, stopping short when Geoff clears his throat.
“Be careful, Jeremy.”
It sounds like a plea. Jeremy glances over his shoulder and Geoff doesn’t meet his eyes. He says, “I’ll try, Geoff. Thanks.”
He thinks about consequences as he shuts the door behind him and makes his way to his room. Maybe his punishment for his role in all of this was how he felt right now, this guilt slowly eating away at him.
Michael, who had finally left his suite for the living room, is sitting next to Jack on the couch. Their eyes meet for a moment, before Michael snarls and rips his gaze away. Jeremy hastens his steps.
Gavin is nowhere to be found, which means that he’s either up at the roof garden, locked in his room, or has gone out to do something stupid. Considering that Jack would murder Gavin if he went out without telling anyone, especially right now, it had to be one of the first two options.
Jeremy couldn’t bear to go to the roof garden. Not right now. And besides, Gavin probably needed some time to himself. It was Jeremy’s fault that Michael wouldn’t talk to him. Jeremy caused the Golden Boy to threaten his best friend. That would take some time to heal.
He doesn’t think they have much time.
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iphoenixrising · 7 years
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Justice is Blind AU Drabble
Imagine this song playing in the beginning, as is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fpgcT_py5g8.
BTW: Red Robin#2, page 18. Cannon: Tim Drake doesn’t need his eyes to fight thanks to the King Snake (or Sir Edmund Dorrance), you can read about it here. Ah, just a short thing because I had to get it out of my brain pan.
 **
There’s an alarm going off.
The sound reverberates in the base of his spine, triggering the new, very pointed ‘oh shit’ sixth (or seventh?) sense, and makes him rise to consciousness in the warm cocoon of fuzzy blankets. The alarm itself is something utterly fucking annoying since even sleep couldn’t help the residual mental hangover from whatever sound torture Ra’s figured out. He buries his head back under the covers and groans a little at the red, pulsing pain picking up momentum at the base of his skull.
But, the realization is a sharp thing, lodging right between the pain and the panic spots in his brain since the blaring alarm is vastly different from the one on his cell phone. You know, the only one he uses.
His useless eyes pop open, blowing wide, even as he throws off the thick, warm blankets (smells like camphor and musk, oh God please no), shaky fingers spread out into gravity until a smooth texture feeds intel to his fingertips (real wood, not hollow or shoddy materials, thick and heavy, smooth and professionally done); his fingers find the cord to the alarm clock first while adrenaline hits his system and it’s a struggle to just stay where the fuck he is rather than leap up and take his chances to feel out the room where he’s apparently been placed—
(No city noises outside, no traffic, trains, anything; could be soundproof glass, could be another evil lair because that would be better than where he suspects he’s ended up)
—and the small scar in the wood surface while his fingers chase the cord to the fucking blaring alarm is evidence of not in the Perch or a safe house.
His fist comes down, smashing the damn clock into flying parts. One makes it almost past his face, knocks into his shoulder.
The satisfaction is just totally worth it when the noise stops, and right on the tail end of that thought is the inevitability that someone will figure out he’s awake and possibly useful, then clue in the possible plethora of bad guys.
Still, he comes back to the scar, the rounded edges, the depth, the ruined lamination around that single mark (and it so could be the same mark from the time he’d been using a soldering iron in Dick’s—his—room in Wayne Manor, back when things were fucking awful after Dad was murdered), lets the sensitive pad of his finger get snagged on it.
Still, plenty of ways a mark like that could have been made—still more evidence to collect to verify his theory. Since his bleary memory recalls following behind B with the half-working cowl, remembers getting in on another potentially life-threatening assassin fight, he can assume one of two things: if he’s really in Wayne Manor after all this time, then his senses get a 10/10 stars, and he’ll need to squeeze into one of the smaller vents that feed right into the Batcave. You know, a little duck and dodge. But, if he’s still somehow in the maniacal clutches of the League of Assassins, some Bats are probably in immediate fucking peril and it’s time to shake off whatever is making him slow the fuck down for some blind justice.
(Yup, totally his new catchphrase)
For a moment, he just breathes, lets himself fall into a slightly meditative state in which his senses are heightened even more, trying to detect anything in the room that could signal guards, bad guys, or traps.
And his legs find the edge of the bed, feet on the floor while he fumbles to arrange pillows and throw the blankets back over them; then, it’s a little more than the usual hard work because there’s nothing else but that shitty alarm clock within arm’s reach. So, his face is hot when he has to listen closely, makes clicking noises with his tongue in cheek to try placing where the walls are, where the door could be, if any windows are in the place using a half-assed form of echo-location. It’s not effective for fighting or hacking, but at least it helps him not faceplant into walls and shit.
He’s silent once again as he strafes to the far wall, feeling the closed door to assess weight and strength. He takes long enough to make himself comfortable, to wait for it.
When muffled voices come closer (and fuck the door must be thick for him to just get an impression), he fights through the pulsing thump in his head to crack his neck and get the fuck ready.
Luckily, what most people didn’t know, is that he hadn’t needed his eyes to fight in years, going all the way back to the earliest days of the R,* the Ghost Dragons, Lynx, and Sir Edmund Fucking Dorrance—the King Snake. Even before he was really in the role, before he was a Bat, he was in his first year training with the tunic, sent to Hong Kong to get his act together before he hit the streets of Gotham as a full-fledged vigilante. During that year, he’d been trained by Lynx, Shiva, the better fighters in the Ghost Dragons, hell, even Dorrance at times; he can and always could fight without the use of his eyes.  The patches for his arms and legs? Just a contingency, something to give him an edge on the baddies.
Hell, at this juncture, he could skateboard again.
Natch.
The knob twists, and his whole body goes still, barely breathing, pressing against the wall, legs slightly bent, one hand palm out to stop the door from hitting him when it open and shoving it closed once the intruders are through.
The plan comes together like it always does in his head—a second of motion at a time. Only, he takes more aspects into consideration, placing the room as he understands it, judging his opponents by the muffled, indistinguishable noises.
The door opens slowly, softly to silence, and he waits with the last breath locked into his lungs, hoping the rumpled covers over the pillows is convincing enough. Every muscle is tense, waiting.
Footsteps inside, another set following behind, and, well, gotcha.
Several things happen at once, slowing time down just enough for him to slam the door closed (in case anyone else is waiting in the corridor/hallway; the door opening again would give him the oh shit signal) and leap.
He’s got them both before they can draw a breath to yell out for help, taking the taller of the two down with a singular leg sweep and nerve strike; the shorter one chokes with the lock around his neck and legs around his waist, immobilizing him, and taking them both to the floor.
And since he’s that good, the opening door is just enough of a moment for him to tighten his hold, try to put the smaller one down for the count, already half-standing to—
The taller one wraps a hand around his ankle, able to reach from where Tim put him down in the first place.
“Master Timothy!?” Is the shocked question from the doorway.
And everything stops.
His heart picks up, beating hard against his chest because God, it’s been so long, and he knows—
“A-Alfred…” a whispered admission and he immediately releases the choke hold, both hands coming up in that not dangerous, nothing to see here kind of way.
“Dammit,” Damian wheezes, staying right on his knees to choke and cough. “Nice…ruse…Drake.”
“I learned it at Vigilante Summer Camp one year. Never know when you have to fool those pesky bad guys,” he replies through numb lips, grudgingly taking a knee, his hands coming up automatically, fingers wiggling in under Damian’s hold to press gently against his throat (hyoid is fine, nothing strained).
To his surprise, Damian tilts his head back and stays still, allows him to assess.
“I don’t think I damaged anything…um, sorry. I wasn’t sure—I wasn’t sure where I was when I woke up.” And it’s a grudging admission, a weakness he usually has measures to counter.
Fumbling behind him, he follows the hand still wrapped around his ankle, and uses both thumbs to press against the nerve clusters he struck at the front of Dick’s shoulder next to his pectoral. His thumbs press in hard, earning a pained noise from the older vigilante. But yeah, it immediately takes effect.
“The alarm clock seems to be the only unfortunate casualty, Master Timothy,” Alfred replies, and the background rattle (tray) as he moves, the smell of wonder things (life coffee) for his aching head. “On the bright side, however, vigilantes in this household often seem to disregard their relevance. Well, at the very least, that is why I assume you are not yet ready for school, Master Damian.”
Tim bites down on his lip (and oh yeah, he’s been on the end of that tone before). “Mmhm, sorry about it anyway, Alfred. My “expect the unexpected” instinct failed me this time.”
“I am absolutely certain it has nothing whatsoever to do with an enormous amount of sleep deprivation or lack of a decent meal.” Pouring and the butler isn’t facing the room, giving them time to get it together.
“That is probably…somewhat accurate,” he allows, fingers skimming along the nightstand by the bed before he stands. Someone put him in sweats and a t-shirt, ones that don’t feel worn in the wash. “Bad guys honestly have no respect for three square meals a day.”
And yes, that masked noise is a laugh. Something in his chest, something clenched tight seems to ease.
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cloud69b · 7 years
Text
GOT7 Turbulence in LA exp
After class on friday, I eagerly waited and got ready to go to the airport. I was so jittery that my friend who was doing laundry had sat with me in my room as I continued to mess with everything and anything.  I had just got back to college and I was leaving immediately, haha. My brother had also come back from Taiwan earlier so my english was all messed up. I had my vacation mode still on and ready to see Got7. 
As I got into my uber, I realized I had forgotten this pair of fake glasses I like to wear because it makes my face look smaller. Also, they are nifty because they look cute. But, I was in the uber pool, so the girl beside me was going to the nail salon. It was a honda civic, and the guy was really nice driver. 
A little apprehensive about getting my plane ticket as I got into the San Jose airport, the lady helped me get my boarding pass. I was flying with Alaska airlines, but the plane was run by another company so I was a little confused but moved along easily. I wore my old jrotc jacket, so people didn’t really look at me weird travelling alone haha. I got through security quickly and the gate I needed was right in front of the security check, so I got to the gate at 3:30pm, a whole 3 hours before my flight. haha, I really couldn’t wait. 
During the flight, this asian guy who sat by me seemed to be very tired, very annoyed and looked like he was having an huge migrane. As soon as we departed and the drink cart was seen, he kept whispering “apple juice” lol. But we were sitting in the back so it took a while before he was blessed with his apple juice. I had an orange juice. I tried scribbling my hand in my journal for some drawing but it seemed to give him a worse headache so I closed my journal and sat there. 
As I landed, my phone thought I was still in San Jose. 1000$ for an uber! OH my god, hahaha. The security guard helped me figure out which airport I was at, the John Wayne Santa Ana airport and I got another honda civic uber driver to Irvine. She was really nice as well. 
My friend Destiney let me stay with her! It was super nice and we were going to go to the concert together. I met with all her friends, and they were super cool people. I felt bad that they had to meet me, a complete scrub to people and looked high 24/7 since my face is naturally red and I love to laugh. They don’t sleep! It’s like I was in the art building during finals again, where no one slept for weeks. 
After I landed friday, Saturday was a complete day with Wingchung’s friends. I’m very thankful they let me into their rooms, shared their wisdom and humor with me, and I believe accepted me well. I may never know, because I’m a particular person. 
SUNDAY. 170129 D-Day
We left UC Irvine around 12pm, using uber. To the venue it took maybe an hour and I cried as my wallet became thinner. Since my friend wingchung was a little less informed about got7 than I am, we watched their old mvs and performances to laugh. I showed her JJ Project and Girls x3, which was hilarious on their own. 
The venue was already clustered with fangirls. Tbh, kpop fandoms are quite toxic so we stayed away after I picked up my merch. Actually, we sat in this empty parking lot in the shade and just talked as we waited. After a bit, the fansites arrived at the venue! So we went out to search for them as I bought Markstouch banner, I’ve waited weeks for this banner!! 
While searching for AsecondDay, bambam fansite, I couldn’t open the door to where they were, and this person beside the door thought we were trying to get into this tattoo convention that was happening right beside the venue. LOL. Kind as they were, they gave us a free wristband to go see the tattoo expo! Super cool, thank you so much hahaha. Gave us something to do before the concert/fm. 
After that we just got ice cream and chilled away from the venue talking about this and that. It had been a while since I saw my best friend, and now that we go to college across the state we don’t get to see each other often. Even before college, I moved from my hometown so it was really nice to talk to her again face to face. 
While waiting across the venue, a silhouette appeared in the window. I suspect it was bambam, but the screams were so loud that you could hear it from blocks away haha. We stayed away still, until it was about 5:40pm and went to line up. 
In line, this girl who also goes to UCI talked to us. I made a couple jokes and laughed, glad to know I’m funny. The lines to the right had less people so we moved over and didn’t say bye to her. Bye bye, now I said it. 
Our seats were in the balcony, Left Center row A so no one was in front of us and we had a great view of the stage. Nothing obstructing and also next to the aisle, so we had minimal people sitting near us! Great!
Wingchung thought the volume was just going to be as loud as Hard Carry started to play in the beginning, signalling the start of the concert. But it dropped even louder and she was so shook I laughed. Jokes on me though, because the moment Got7 walked out I started screaming my head off and got my phone out to record everything I could. 
I got like 10 texts the next day saying the same thing “Wow avery I didn’t know you could scream like that” hahahah
MARK. I could not believe my eyes!! He’s real! And being back in LA, he seemed so happy, looking to where his family was pretty much the whole concert. His nieces were in the concert as well, it was so nice and I’m glad he was happy to be back. During the games, he stood off to the side by himself thinking about the songs and rose his hand once he found his answer. He shouted “Mark!” so cutely I couldn’t even handle myself. His question was what was his favorite disney movie: Toy Story. and his first was Dumbo, put his hands beside his ears and waved them. CUTE!! his second question was to do his favorite dance, which he called Yugyeom to do sexy dancing. AHHH R18+! During his ending ment, he choked up a little saying it was great to have support over seas so he can see his family during these sorts of things.  Also, his partner during the game was wearing a Jackson hoodie. SO when they won, Bambam came over and exposed her LOL and Mark walked across the stage and took his jacket off in mock frustration. It was really sexy and cute, as Jackson escorted her off stage with a hug.  Near the end of the concert, he also took off his jacket showing his ENTIRE body line and I was blessed. He’s so fit and his legs look great i still cant believe I saw him. 
Jaebum looked really tired for the concert, and it was completely understandable. They’ve been performing non stop across the country in a span of only 1 week! He sat cutely, SAID HIS NAME CUTELY DURING THE GUESS THE SONG GAME. Immediately Youngjae started to tease him. I can’t even. And in the end, he took off his coat and put on his hood while singing. I love Jaebum and his fluffiness. I swear he’s the fluffiest member. 
Jackson, oh jackson! After his rest, he seemed rejuvenated and ready for this last fanmeet in the US. He was jumping around at the beginning, teasing Yugyeom during his question and did the incredible Jackson experience. Wingchung likes Jackson the most, so it was really funny. During the song game, Him, Mark, and Jinyoung crouched beside the speakers to try and listen better. But either of the three got one right haha. He was so sweet to his guest, and cracked jokes. His guest was from china, had the same last name but apparently her bias was Jinyoung, which had him mimicking disappointment. Jinyoung went to shake her hand but Jackson slapped it away to hug her! So funny and cute haha. Though they didnt do well, Jackson counted well haha. His ending ment was inspiring and it was every word I needed for this semester. 
Jinyoung. I can’t believe. I can’t choose between Bambam or Youngjae or Jackson or Yugyeom or JB as my second bias, but Jinyoung you are so fucking close to being it. BTW got7 wore one of my favorite outfit sets from their recent activities, so Jinyoung’s outfit looks extremely similar to DGM’s 3rd gen uniform, and I love it. His hair still had that slight perm, so cuuuuute. He and Mark sat in beside each other, stood beside each other and won Rock paper scissors together(with jackson). Markjin! Iw as shook, in tears.  He also was fiddling with his mic in the back of his pants, and it looked like he was scratching his butt haha.  He was super cute, his english is to swoon over. His voice live is WOW. During the song game, he begged the MC to play the song one more time. “Please, one more time” he said and I swear my stomach flipped haha. When he finally got to answer after saying “Jinyoung Jinyoung” he didn’t know the song and guessed “Fly?” His question he picked up was to expllain his first impressions of each memeber.  Jackson: Hong Kong actor. Mark: a little dark lol Jaebum: (in english) I met him for 7 years now! Youngjae: (honestly i forgot) Bambam: CUTE and innocent and SMALL yugyeom: innocent but TALL he thought he was a sunbae hahaha
mark was beside him saying “mark mark” it was so cute.  When the mc said no, Jinyoung, again cutely said “Fly?” and got another no. I cant.  He almost won the hacky sack game, he’s so good at it! Mark moved across the stage to film Jinyoung while the encore. 
Youngjae was so happy. The entire concert he was full of sunshine and smiles and laughs, he’s so precious save me. He guessed the most in the song game and won! Amazing!! His hacky sack game was second to go up, so he got 4 and was in the lead. Saying “I am the best!” but in the end he lost and I felt for him so much, he was looking forward!!! His voice is so amazing live. The stereos were a little weird and everyone’s voice was an octive higher? My ears might’ve been fooling me because in all my videos it was fine. Youngjae, let me tell you his voice is so much better live. Definitely blessed my ears with his amazing loud vocals.  In the end, he called out the 2 artists he looked up to, even sang their song for the jyp audition AND SANG A PART OF IT RIGHT THEN AND THERE. The two artists stood up A ROW AWAY FROM US and waved!! They were so nice! Im so glad Youngjae got to meet some of his favorite artists while in LA. That’s amazing. 
Bambam is 100% cannot believe he’s real, cannot believe i saw him dab dab and ju ju and dance the whip with helium it was unbelievable. His hair was so bright, probably the brightest thing on stage. While the song game, he would yell his name, bending backwards lika “BAM!!!!” and wouldnt know the answer. He got one right though! He’s so sos ososososo precious. He called his guest Queen, because he was sad that he wasnt good at the hacky sack game.  His ending ment hinted at their new album, and that we will be surprised! He dabbed, I saw it irl. Bambam is fantastic!
AND Yugyeom. He was quiet for the majority of the concert, but honestly so big! I didn’t think he’d be so different, because in broadcasts I didn’t really catch but irl he really has a different build than his hyungs. But he was so cute! During his helium, he didn’t know what to do and panicked. His endingment was really nice and thanked us for supporting even overseas. During hacky sack, he kicked his hacky too high and it hit his guest on the chest! She had really good stage feeling, because she fell over like she died and Yugyeom was so scared and sad that he ran over saying sorry so many times. Gave her a big hug, while they both laughed at what had happened. So cute! Honestly, I dont remember much else of what Yugyeom did ;;; im sorry. 
And all memebers had to do squats while flapping like a bird (ahgase!) when they got the song guess wrong. IT WAS CUTE. 
After the concert I was in so much denial that we had just saw Got7 that i couldnt even believe where I was. Before we left the venue, we picked up some pieces of confetti. Wingchung was spent, we both couldnt talk and she was even more surprised at the amount of screaming I did. We called an uber again, and steadily made it back to UCI. 
over night, i couldnt even. I kept telling wingchung that I didn’t believe i saw them irl and my throat hurt a lot I kept coughing myself awake. In the morning, we ate and I went to Wingchung’s big biology lecture class! The professor definitely knew i was not supposed to be there, as I sat there doodling markjin in my journal hahaha. 
After that, I left. We hugged and said goodbye, I miss her already but gotta do school. I was missing class on monday since my flight was delayed but my uber to the airport was another honda civic. hahah, this uber driver was also very nice! In the airport, I let myself have some McDonalds, a close comfort food for me having many memories of highschool to me. While waiting another girl talked to me about the fanmeeting. She had went! Spotted me because I now was wearing the USA turbulence hoodie. And we were on the same flight, so we talked all about got7 before boarding. I was moved to the front of the plane though (the first time my name was called in the airport speaker!) and she was in the back, so our meeting was cut short. 
The guy beside me was watching a creepy movie, so I didnt know where to look haha. I love planes, even as a little kid, and now I love them even more because of got7 hahahaha. 
I got back onto campus, but before that My uber. I didn’t know where i’d be picked up and got mixed up. So the guy made it to the place but i was struggling to cross the street (the light was red) and get there. The guy was about to cancel on me after 1 minute of waiting! Oh my god! And the other lady in the pool was really mean. It was another honda civic though LOL.
he wasnt very nice as a uber driver, so my final uber was really awkward. 
But overall, Im completely blessed to have been able to see Got7 and go to socal just for the concert and see my friend wingchung, meet her friends. See got7 see Mark in real life. it was surreal. 
But thank you so much GOT7 for the Turbulence in USA fanmeet tour. It must’ve been crazy tiring, but I’m thankful you gave it your all for LA. Thank you!
Now that Im back in school, not flying around any more and got my english back, I will focus hard and not do so much on the internet. 
bye!
cloud/avery
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