#elias is STILL the shortest.
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s1 lineup!! theres more art ill post i just wanted to do this one separately
#the magnus archives#tma#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#tim stoker#sasha james#elias bouchard#tma art#elias is STILL the shortest.#its funny tho so idc#ill probably do the other seasons as well#not!sasha art soon guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Doin' You Right | Q.H.
notes: I have nothing to say for myself
summary: y/n overhears Quinn having a conversation and gets a little hot and bothered
warnings: nsfw, slight breeding kink, talks of babies
wc: 1.7K
You might think I'm crazy
The way I've been cravin'
If I put it quite plainly
Just gimme them babies
The fact that you and Quinn made it out of your apartment to meet his teammates at a bar in downtown Vancouver should’ve been a feat in itself. You’d been craving him all day, since the conversation you overheard that morning, but you only got scraps of attention here and there as the day went on. He had team practice, a workout, and then when he got home he got on a facetime call with his family.
You were getting ready for your night out when he finished up with the call and he gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before getting in the shower. You had picked out your shortest, tightest dress on purpose, hoping he’d get the hint when he saw you all done up. He visibly swallowed as he stood by the door when you walked out of your shared bedroom.
“You look beautiful.” He told you before kissing your forehead, not wanting your lipstick all over his mouth.
You give him a tight-lipped smile. You were hoping for hot or sexy. Maybe even, you look way too good to leave right now, let’s go back to the bedroom. “Thanks Quinny.” He was looking absolutely delicious in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a backwards hat on his head. His hair stuck out at the back and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through it.
He kept a hand on your thigh the entire way to the bar and if he noticed you clenching your legs together the entire time he didn’t say anything. You greeted his teammates and the other wags when you walked in but you stayed glued to his side for most of the night.
“Baby, don’t you wanna dance?” Quinn nudged your ear with his nose as your favorite song came on. You were sitting in his lap while he talked to Elias, sipping on a drink.
“I’m fine here.” You answer as you turn your head to look at him.
He looks down at you with concern as his arm tightens around your waist. “What’s wrong?”
You take his free hand and place it on your thigh, just below the hem of your dress. “I want you to touch me.” Normally you wouldn’t be this bold in public, especially in front of his teammates, knowing how shy Quinn is sometimes but you can’t help it. You’ve been patient all day and the alcohol is only making you crave him more.
“What’s got you so needy, baby?” He whispers in your ear as he slides his hand closer to the inside of your thigh, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin.
You spread your legs almost involuntarily, wanting to give him more access to you. You turn your torso so you can kiss his jaw. “I heard what you said to Jack this morning.”
His hand stills from your confession. “I thought you were sleeping. How much did you hear?”
You were sleeping until you felt Quinn leave the bed. You thought he was just going to go to the bathroom and then return for more cuddles but he didn’t. Five minutes later, you heard him in the bathroom talking to someone. You weren’t concerned until you heard your name. “I’m going to marry y/n, Jack.” You started listening intently after that. “Mom’s been helping me look at rings, yeah. No, she’ll be such a good mom. I’d get her pregnant right now if she’d let me.” You stopped listening after that, knowing you shouldn’t have eavesdropped at all.
“I wanna have your babies, Quinn.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his neck.
“Fuck, let’s go.” He’s pushing you off his lap so you can stand up before you have time to register what’s happening. He doesn’t bother saying goodbye to anyone as he leads you out of the bar.
Baby, you might need a seatbelt when I ride it
I'ma leave it open like a door, come inside it
Even though I'm wifey, you can hit it like a side chick
Don't need no side dick, no
Your ride home is much more enjoyable now that Quinn is just as needy as you are. You tease him the entire way, palming him over his jeans as he drives you home. He runs his hand up and down your thigh, getting a little higher each time.
“I’ve been so wet for you all day.” You admit as he unlocks the door to your place. He pulls you inside, pushing you up against the wall as he locks the door.
“I want to taste you.” He drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your dress over your hips. “No panties?” He grins before running a finger over your soaked folds. You jolt from the contact and moan in pleasure.
“Mmm need you so bad, Quinny.” You grind down on his hand as he sticks a finger inside of you, already so close to the edge.
“Patience, baby.” He chuckles before taking your left leg and hooking it over his shoulder. “Be a good girl and make all those pretty noises for me, hmmm?”
He doesn’t have to ask because once his mouth is on your sensitive nub, you wouldn’t be able to stop the sounds that fall from your lips. He’s still wearing his hat and you promptly rip it off of his head so you can put your hands in his hair as he circles your clit with his tongue. You’re barely able to form a coherent thought as he inserts a finger inside of you again.
“Fuck, babe…” You drop your head back against the wall as you tilt your hips up to meet the thrust of his hand. You’re going to have a beard burn on the inside of your thighs tomorrow but you could care less right now.
Quinn reaches around you with his free hand to squeeze your ass. “Let go, y/n.” Hearing him say your name snaps the last thread of control you had and you cum all over his face as he licks you up.
He sets your shaking leg back on the ground and stands up to kiss you deeply, hands gripping your face tightly. “You did so well, pretty girl.”
“I need you…” You push at his chest, pushing him into the closest room which happens to be the kitchen. “Inside me, now.”
Quinn grabs a chair from the table as you undo the button on his jeans and pull them down his thighs. His erection springs free as you pull down his boxers and you quickly put your mouth on it, circling his thick member with your tongue as you bob up and down.
“Fuck, y/n. Just like that.” He groans as his hands tangle in your hair, guiding your head up and down. You moan on him, vibrating his dick, and a string of curses leave his mouth. Pulling him out of your mouth with a loud pop, you gently push him toward the chair so he sits down.
“Are you sure?” He asks you as you straddle his hips, ready to sink down on his bare dick. “I can go get a condom.”
“I’m sure, Quinn.” You look him in the eyes as you rub yourself along his length. His eyes nearly roll back in his head as he puts his hands on your hips. “I want you to fill me with your cum.”
Quinn reaches down between your bodies to line himself up at your entrance and you both moan as you sink down on him. “You’re so big.” You murmur, telling Quinn you need a second to adjust. He gives you time, pulling at your dress so you’ll lift your arms up. He pulls it over your head and quickly throws it to the floor before undoing your bra.
You start to move on him as he squeezes your nipples between his fingers. “Oh my god.” You place your hands on his shoulders as you lift your hips and then grind back down on his dick. He’s hitting just the right spot and your rhythm soon turns sporadic as you feel yourself getting close again.
He kisses you as his hands move to your hips, keeping you still so he can fuck up into you. “You’re going to look so good with my babies inside of you, y/n.” He’s panting in your ear and you can tell that he’s close. “Gonna fill you up so good.”
“Please, Quinn.” You tangle your hands in his hair and push his face into your chest as you grind on him. “Cum for me.” Your vision blurs as your second orgasm takes over your body, and you collapse into Quinn’s chest.
“Fuck.” He snaps his hips into you and then stutters as you feel his warm release coat the inside of your womb. He kisses the side of your head as you both come down from your highs.
You such a dream come true, true
Make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh
Can you stay up all night?
Fuck me 'til the daylight
“I love you.” He tells you after you’re both silent for a moment.
“I love you too.” You say softly before kissing him. “I need to clean up.” You blush as you get off of him and his cum starts to roll down your leg.
“We’re not done, baby.” Quinn smirks as he stands up and steps out of his pants and boxers. “I need to make sure there’s babies in there.” He rests his hand on your flat stomach before kissing you again.
You let him lead you to the bedroom, surprised that he’s still hard. He usually needs a little bit before he can go again. As soon as you get a knee on the bed he’s pushing your face down into the pillow. “Hope you’re ready to go all night, y/n.”
You press your ass into him as you look at him over one shoulder. “I hope you can keep up, Quinny.”
He slaps your ass as he enters you from behind. “You better cancel all of your plans tomorrow, baby. You’re not going to be able to walk.”
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Brock Boeser Imagine
prompt: blind date with Brock
word count: 1,372
“No Quinn I’m sure he is a great guy. It’s just I’m not really sure about all of this. Ya know going on a date with some guy I don’t know,” I sigh while grabbing the orange juice from him and placing it in the fridge. “What do you wanna know,” he asks grabbing a bundle of grapes and popping one of them into his mouth. “Is he getting hounded like I am right now,” I turn to look at the defensemen sitting on my countertop. “Petey is at his place now,” he smirks holding out a grape for me. I roll my eyes and keep putting up my groceries. Quinn continues trying to sell me on the idea of a blind date.
Not too far away in an apartment downtown, two blonde men are having a very similar conversation. “Petey I wish you and Quinn would chill out on this whole date thing. I’m fine,” Brock uttered turning his attention back to the game. The Swede shakes his head and pauses the game yet again. Brock throws his controller down, knowing the two will never finish this game. He sinks back into the couch and stares at his friend.
“Boes I hate to break it to you but Quinn has been on more dates than you recently,” Elias points out. Thinking there was no way that was true, he let his face fall realizing his friend was right, it had been a really long time. “Okay you can tell Quinn to set it up,” he says shaking his head while doing it. Petey lets a small smile grace his face while unpausing the game killing Brock's character, who still hadn’t picked back up his controller.
Smoothing down the front of my dress, I do a turn in the mirror giving myself one final look over. All I knew about this date was it was at some fancy restaurant downtown and I was meeting him there at 7. After hours of trying on different outfits, I finally decided on a simple little black dress with the shortest heels that I owned. Throwing on some jewelry and a touch of makeup and calling it a day. Huffing out a breath I walk into my living room finding the two Canucks players on my couch eating a bowl of popcorn each. “Damn Y/n,” Quinn exclaims eyes running down my body and then back up. “Good damn or bad damn,” I ask nervously, in all honesty, it had been a minute since I had gone out. “Good, very good,” Petey finishes his thought. “Okay well, I guess I’m out of here. If you guys leave before I get back please lock up,” I say as I rush out of the door.
I end up fast walking up to the restaurant due to the chill in the air. I had gone for style over comfort and went jacketless, which was my own dumb fault in Vancouver in the early spring. My heels clicking on the sidewalk alert the tall blonde man leaning against the wall right outside the door. He quickly raises his head up and we lock eyes. He walks towards me closing the distance between us. I couldn’t help but silently thank Quinn and Petey for forcing this. “Wow you look really beautiful,” he blurted out then a light dusting of blush spread across his cheeks. “Thank you. You look really nice too,” I say softly sporting a matching flushed face. “Should we head inside,” he asks ushering us into the building.
We were surrounded by the hustle and bustle and the stuffy atmosphere, it was almost too much. My eyes had been looking over the menu and I couldn’t control the bored expression on my face. I felt so out of place here, like snotty customers were looking down on me. I slowly lower the menu and see the same look on Brock’s face. A small laugh escapes my lips and I quickly slap my hand over my mouth. He looks up, blue eyes lighting up and eyebrows furrowed. Rude looks came from several different people at my disruption of the “quiet and calming” vibe of the place. “I am so sorry. I just couldn’t help it, you look just as bored as I do,” I smiled watching him visibly relax some. “Oh thank God. I thought that I was the only one. I know a really good burger spot a couple roads over,” I don’t even let him say another word as I grab his hand and pull him out of there.
We walked out laughing like hyenas, which resulted in even more weird looks. Normally stares from strangers would make my skin crawl but something about being with Brock made me not care. We settled on a bench in the nearby park. “One for the lady and one for me,” Brock smiles passing out the food. I reach over and steal a fry from him. “Hey no ma’am, you have your own,” he tries to sound serious but his laugh tells me he is just joking. The wind blew a little harsh and I shivered. He stripped off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. When he did our faces were so close, if I wanted to I could have leaned over and kissed him. I think he thought the same because his eyes glanced down to my lips and then quickly back up. Pulling back we both smile widely.
The two of us walk down the sidewalk towards my apartment. Every so often I feel his fingers brush against mine. Reaching over I interlock our fingers and give our hands a little swing. As we get closer to my place, I notice the boy’s cars still outside. “Well, this is me,” I say stopping but showing no sign of leaving and dropping our hands. “I had a really good time tonight Y/n,” he says giving our hands a squeeze. “Me too, I’d really like to do it again sometime,” I expressed looking up and him and smiling. He slowly leaned down gauging if I wanted the same thing. When I showed no sign of stopping him, he quickly connected our lips together. It was the sweetest and most passionate kiss I had ever had. My hands fly up to the back of his neck while his hands land lightly on my hips.
A buzzing sound interrupts us and we slowly pull back.I pull out my phone to read the text message from Quinn, and Brock gets a similar text from Petey. Laughing we show each other our phones,” You know those two are probably all smushed up against the windows spying on us.” I laugh at him knowing that he is actually right. “Wanna come up with me,” I suggest raising my eyebrows. He nods his head letting me lead the way. I unlock the door and we see the two scrambling to sit back down and look natural. “Are you two actually serious,” I laugh holding onto Brock’s forearm and leaning over to slip off the heels. “You guys look awfully close,” Quinn points out.
“Yeah no thanks to you two,” Brock states while sitting down on the chair near the couch his teammates currently occupied. “Excuse me,” Petey’s eyes snap back and forth between us. I walk back into the room after quickly changing into some sweats and a shirt. I round the corner and sit on the arm of the chair Brock was sitting in, his arms slipping around my waist holding me in place. “That place you guys picked was terrible. I swear if we had stayed there we wouldn’t be sitting so close right now,” I laugh pointing my finger at the two of them. “That place was great. It’s where all my first dates are,” Quinn defends himself. We all share a look and laugh at the Hughes boy. “Quinny maybe that is why you don’t get very many second dates,” Brock points out.
The four of us hang out for a little while later, Petey and Quinn arguing about who is gonna be the best man all while the two of us sit happily in our shared chair so thankful the goofballs bullied us into the date.
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listen, originally i was gonna post either this or a very angsty ask either next week or the week after since i posted an ask on monday already,but heres something i feel like elias may do :) (is it dad elias? probably, yea i think…)
contributing to the previous anons ask(not the rick roll one.. that shits funny im sorry lmao) about elias carrying hesh & logan in baby slings, i feel like he still does, but randomly, carries or hugs hesh, logan or even any of the ghosts to this day just not in baby slings of course. but the man targets logan.
why logan? well, the poor guys the youngest(son AND in the team, not to mention the second shortest besides kick, whos an inch or so shorter.), and is kinda light for a 6 foot guy(hes 170 ibs according to the wikis… i think half of that is pure muscle.), making him a perfect target for carrying/hugs. he doesn’t mind it… some days. some days he just accepts defeat and other days, this man SPRINTS away and does anything to not get carried or hugged. (i like to think he doesn’t really like physical affection. also think of this— merrick(i chose him and i dont even know why.. brains not working well rn) drinking coffee in the afternoon to then see logan SPRINTING away from an elias whos running after him and later tackles him to the ground or face plants into a wall cause logan made a sharp ass turn)
logans suffering does NOT end there though, cause elias’ tantics go onto hesh, then later keegan, and the list goes on…
(hesh on the other hand does not mind it at all and enjoys when his dad does that. feel like that man LOVES physical affection.)
(also regarding my last ask: dont worry about not responding to my ask on time ! i was pretty fucking tired writing that so dont worry, we all get tired :).also, i live in the est timezone if ur wondering if we are indeed living in the same timezone :))
—🎧 anon
Laughing at me being Rick Rolled, how dare! (Joking)
Elias for sure saw that post where it was like "One day your parents put you down and never picked you back up again." so he vowed to himself to pick his boys up at LEAST once a week if not more because that shit hurted him. INCLUDING the Ghosties. Even Merrick. Mark his fucking words.
Half the time when Logan runs he's playing, and the other half he's serious and will wail like an angry cat when he's caught. Elias will back off if he realizes Logan's serious but that's usually after he faceplants into a wall. He will then goes and takes out the affection on Hesh, who is entirely too happy about it. Big goofball.
(Timezone buddies, hells yeah. And don't worry about sending multiple asks a week, send em daily for all I care lol.)
#call of duty#call of duty ghosts#elias walker#logan walker#hesh walker#task force stalker aka the ghosts#beloved anon#🎧 anon
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how did Elias go about letting the other goths in on him being a hybrid? Those that read the fic get how he learned but what about the others?
Sorry this took so long I've been listening to Swoop videos while writing this
I hadn't really thought of how tbh but I brainstormed an idea based on some banter I had with the bestie Noodle and decided this
Elias hadn't actively told anyone yet (only Firkle and Veronica knew atm) both the friends that knew had sort of stumbled upon it or in Firkle's case looked too early during a rescue X'D
I drew inspiration from a headcanon I saw someone have of Michael fainting when he's scared or stressed if y'all know who it was please lmk so I can be sure to credit them
Elias reveals it to the other Goth's just after the events of ‘Dawn of the posers’ (while they aren't heavily mentioned Maria and Lafayette were there)
After saving the eldest goth from the emo conversion camp (despite it being a ruse for a tv show he was still a bit rattled, I saw someone mention a headcanon of him having fear/stressed induced fainting spells and love it so I like to think that was his first experience with a spell) so the goths all congregated at Henrietta's the next day to talk about what they went through and Elias noticed Michael still seemed rattled.
After a bit of gentle prying Michael comes clean about the fainting spell and how it'd never happened before, due to how close the group is (even more so after that kind of shit) he admitted to being scared by it because he passed out on his arrival and woke up bound to a chair.
Elias notices Michael's death grip on his cane and asks if there's anything he can offer to help him, after Michael simply shrugs he offers something fluffy (Firkle's eyes go wide) and some comfort compression. When a curious Michael agrees he partially expects the 2nd shortest to just lay his head in his lap, instead he drops his cane after watching Elias become a wolf pup (I'd say maybe the size of a young border collie) donning a yellow scarf.
The older five watch as wolf Elias lays his torso and head along Michael's leg, Pete nearly drops his cigarette when Elias verbally encourages Michael that he can pet him. It ends with the entire 6 human goth kids sitting around Elias for essentially doggy destressing, Elias just lays there mainly keeping his focus on Michael checking on him and his anxiety. Elias answers questions and just kind of basks in the attention, he begs them all not to tell them and they agree after learning why he hid it.
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More Mass Effect LE 2 mods
Some more non-aesthetic, quality-of-life mods I recommend for MELE2
Remove Shared Cooldown - In Mass Effect 2, player and squad mate powers share a cooldown. That is, only one power can be used at a time. I don’t care for it and am happy to use this mod to make power cooldowns apply to individual powers. This does make combat easier, so if combat challenge is what you want, you may not want to use this one. Full disclaimer: I used a mod like this for so long in the original version of ME2 that I can’t actually remember what combat is like without it.
DLC Timings Mod - This mod automatically delays both the Normandy Crash Site DLC and the Shadow Broker DLC. On installation, you will also have the opportunity to set the timing for both Overlord and The Arrival. Obviously, you can choose to do the DLC whenever you want, regardless of when they become available. I just personally like the IMMERSION of this sort of mod.
Shortest Interrogation Ever - Pretty simple mod that allows Shepard to use their Spectre status during Elias Kelham’s interrogation regardless of morality (as long as you’ve been reinstated). Which is completely reasonable, since that has nothing to do with morality.
Pilot In Location On Time - Not the full title, because it’s long. During The Arrival DLC, an unidentified crewman informs Shepard of Hacket’s incoming message and picks them up from the Project Base. This mod uses dialogue from ME1 and ME3 to change that person to Joker.
Zaeed’s Wholesome Revenge - Allows the player to rescue the workers and still catch up with Vido. The thing I like about this mod is that it’s not a guarantee. You have to save the workers and reach Vido within six minutes, or you’ll still be too late. There is a timer as well, so you’ll know how you’re doing on time.
Unofficial LE2 Patch - An unofficial bugfix patch for LE2. There is a comprehensive list of fixes on the mod page. If you install no other mod, install this one.
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(my) Mag a Week: Callous Distances
Hello there!
I am participating in the "a mag a day" idea by @a-mag-a-day which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened and...this is the second one, for what I randomly role "????" (one of those statements that is a party of Fears!, so I gave WILD CARD) and "Archivist!Sasha" (Eps. 19-24)
As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes,
Marla
Allons-y!
CW: general weirdness, mentions of Jonah Magnus at some point (hinted but is there)
Also on AO3!
Statement of Elias Bouchard, regarding the expansion of distances after he had left the door of his house open one autumn morning.
Recorded by Sasha James, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.
Statement begins.
I just want to go home and forget about everything that had happened.
Honestly, I don’t even care anymore if my declaration is going to be of any use. However…I made a promise, so now I ought to honour it. I guess; it’s a bit too late to back out, either way. What happened had happened, after all…
In your line of work, I am almost certain that you have heard my family’s name. After all, I almost got to work for your Institute myself. It was a quite tempting job opportunity, I must say. I would have had to do the bare minimum and I would have never been fired; the Bouchard family is one of your greater sponsors, you would never fire someone with their blood, for your own good.
Even if they deserved it and, I can promise you, I would have, eventually. It’s always the same story with me…
…anyways, sorry, I am starting to digress. I guess that edible has started to kick in beforehand. The reason I am here is to speak about the trap my life has been for months uninterrupted until this very morning.
It all began in one of the most anodyne of mornings. I woke up, checked in my… roommate, still recovering from a night I will not discuss, since I don’t know how your policy is when minor crimes are involved, and went to take off the trash before having breakfast.
Yes, yes, I know. Maybe going into the London rather-chilling-in-the-best-case-scenario streets in your pyjamas without even having drunk a juice glass is not exactly an appealing act. However, the mere fact that people on my birth family loath it is what makes it worth everything. Apart, I was still a bit hangover and I’d rather not throw up in my scrambled eggs; better to settle the stomach with the shortest of walks.
That day, though, it was not going to be that simple.
You see, I made a mistake as honest and simple as forgetting to properly close the door and, when I came back (my partner still sound asleep, blessed be his obliviousness), I would have sworn it was ever so slightly more open than before I had left.
I clenched my hand, the weight of the trash bag I had just dropped outside back on my palm, carrying me to the floor with it.
There were no major changes after that. Life in our little apartment carried on as usual, that I could afford thank to some not very legal job opportunities, barely changed.
It was that Barely what turned to be even worse than an absolute confirmation of something going terribly wrong. It was little details, like the kitchen feeling a bit colder, not because of the heater wasn’t working properly, but because, if you set yourself in the further corner from the radiator, right next to the door that communicates with the pour excuse of corridor we have, you could literally feel the increased distances between you and the only source of heat in the room.
My roommate mocked me, saying that he didn’t get why now I always walked around the kitchen as if I was moving to be captured by stop-motion technique (he studies cinema, cannot resist that very particular metaphor).
However, it wasn’t that funny for me, since now I had to make extra time-counts when I wanted to cook something I wasn’t sure whether I would be there to observe close during the whole process.
From that moment on, one might even argue I actually got proper exercise done from walking miles and miles just from staying in the kitchen the whole time.
It was about a month into this new… routine when it happened. When the callus started to make their appearance.
I have always had very beautiful feel, something so delicate I used to hid them from the other boys when we shower after gym practice at high-school. I know the sort of comments I was going to get my way…
…however, even if I hid them for the longest time, they were still my pride and joy. That was why, the moment I noticed the thinnest of layers of dead skin starting to be a bit too rough to be just my dermis getting a bit too dry, I panicked.
It sounds vane but…when a huge part of your life is based on having absolutely no control over your existance, losing it over something that you were rather proud of is even more horrifying that a part of your house changing dimensions.
It didn’t hurt, at first.
However, I had to walk a lot and, after the kitchen, it started to affect the rest of the house; but I was the only one noticing it.
My…screw it, I am not even writing down his name, I would call him what he was (he still is, bless his patience), my boyfriend was not affected, up to the point that, when we were in opposite sides of the room and he started approaching having to cover a much more smaller distance that the one that I got up to him, his figure flickered.
Literally, he became non-existent for a millisecond; time enough for me to worry. What if he was really gone when he passed by one of those extended spaces I was solemnly alone being able to catch a glimpse of?
What if one day he didn’t reappear? What if one day he wouldn’t be able to hold anyone’s hands anymore? What if…?
I am not a religious person but, every time he decided to approach me at home, I prayed for him to be okay, to be there afterwards or, at least, in a place worth of his presence.
Then, the rest of the world became larger too, every single place suddenly being so far apart no matter how much I walked, it wasn’t until I was so tired I could barely stay on my feet that I arrived to said places.
Since leaving in my house had become a real pain in the ass (excuse my French), I might have indulged myself a bit more than usual in my green friend (though it is never green when I consume it…never mind, digressing, sorry), so I cannot assure that events happened precisely as I recall them…
However, I do believe my approach is rather accurate. Investigate it afterwards, I guess.
About two months after I fatally left the door opened, the callus forms on my feet were thick enough to be pinched separately from the rest of the feet; whose toes had also started to present small malformations, weirdly grown nails and calluses of their own. It was almost painful to look at and I found myself weeping and mourning the loss of my former almost Cinderalla-ish feet.
Again, I know it sounds over-the-top to get this dramatic over the state of a part of the human body that tend to be quite unpleasant to look at, but I am certain you also have that apparently insignificant routine/element in your life that brings you the most basic of comforts by knowing it will always remain the same. A same that you rather enjoy.
A safe place.
A place that had been taken from me, all because of the impossibly long and, more and more as time went by, arduous. There are even pebbles now! Managing to hurt my feet as they entered in contact with their soles. Between that and how much time that truly doesn’t exist I have being trapped in…I can almost feel the weight finding my chest as an extremely funny dispositive.
Because that is another thing: callous formations hurt. They hurt and itch half of the time and, before you wonder why I just simply took care of them: they had grown up to the point before they were already growing again every single time I went to sleep after I extracted them.
Coming here was especially hard, but not as hard as what I went through yesterday. The reason I decided to come in here in the first place.
I don’t even know if it was happening for real, since I hadn’t been sleeping more than three hours on a row and, between that and the weed…well, seeing things wasn’t that strange.
The point is, as I was going to, irony appreciated, to throw away the trash, running towards the containers (I had resolved to always go running, since distances were nothing but constantly increasing and it helped me to pretend things were alright), when I heard a second voice, a female-presenting quite sweet one, saying as clear as day how foolish it had been for her to leave that door opened when she had gone to buy bread.
Then, she grab my hand for just an instance and made me swear I would find help for people like you…like us.
I got excited: I wasn’t alone in my harsh endeavour. Not only that. In that moment, I realise that, somehow, I was cured.
But…even if I suffered no more…if I wasn’t alone…that meant more people could get attacked by this thing, whatever it is. I had to tell the world.
Do the right thing.
Hence, coming to you.
I hope this had been of any use.
Statement ends.
Well, I don’t want to come out as cynical but…this is one of the most bizarre stories I had found in the Archive and, trust me, I still have nightmares with that trash collector track and what the man end up doing to his co-workers…
…never mind! Apparently, he wants us to do something regarding what happened to him but…well, I am afraid it is not possible.
I will contact him and, perhaps, do a light search on my free time…if Jon leaves me any of that, since he wants me to have The Archive in good conditions rather quickly. What a prick…and think that I used to really like him.
Before he started using those bloody stupid grey contact-lens…
…shit! I guess I will supress this bit before properly digitalising this statement.
Recording ends.
#a mag a day#a mag a week#mag horror#statement#original statement#au#the magnus archives#fanfic#tma#magnuspod#sasha james#elias bouchard#original elias bouchard#fic#weirdness#mag
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A-ha! Found out why I project on Peter Lukas so much: I too had a very blonde, very bitchy and mean spirited twink as partner once. Didn’t last for more than a month, which is incidentally also the duration of their marriage(s)
#tma#tma shitpost#the magnus archives#lonely eyes#peter lukas#tma elias#elias bouchard#yeah except his height was twice than mine but that's cause i'm the shortest person i know#i was so young... still dating...#i don't date anymore and am a perfect host to be an avatar of the forsaken.#or maybe a sacrifice?????#either way
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test…
test…
Elias,
hopefully if you
hear this
it means I’ve found a way to record those
difficult statements
I was telling you about.
While I
hate
to speak ill of the dead, the previous Archivist left this place in such a dreadful mess, even an organisation with such an
unusual
focus as the Magnus Institute needs a
well-organised Archive.
As you
Know,
I’ve been... going through trying to digitise and record audio versions but I’ve been having trouble with a few of the more…
bizarre
statements.
There have been sufficient distortions as to make them
utterly unintelligible.
Thankfully, though, I managed to unearth this old
tape recorder
from storage, and these cassettes, archaic as they may be, are still better than nothing.
So, with that in mind, I thought I’d take it for a
spin,
as it were. I’ve taken the shortest of the problem statements, and I’m trying it here. Frankly, I wouldn’t normally bother with something so…
fragmented
but it should be fine as a test.
Statement of Jacob, no second name given, regarding…
god knows what.
Original statement given July 15th 2011.
Statement begins.
#jon sims#jonathan sims#the magnus archives#tma#l9#ahhhhhh i love this trailer so much#and rqg is torturing me by plaing it in the ad breaks
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magnus fic roundup
as tma comes to a close, i thought i'd post some of my favorite fics to come out of this fandom. most of these are classics, listed in no particular order.
A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed | 3K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete
"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."
Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.
↳ this is such a well-done exploration of jon’s character and his relationship with touch, and i’ve re-read it at least five times. sweet and sad and phenomenally well-written.
in the chillest land and on the strangest sea by imperfectcircle, singlecrow | 20K | Safehouse, S1-S4 | Jon & Daisy, Jon/Martin | Complete
Jon remembers a statement he read years ago given by a Jesuit priest, who said that the shortest prayer he knew was, just, fuck it, as in fuck it; it's in God's hands. He takes Daisy's hand and trails on after her.
or; hope is a thing with feathers.
↳ hey, you wanna fuckin..... feel things? read this.
The Magnus Institute vs the 21st Century: a series of emails and IMs by shinyopals | 26K | Series | S3 | Pre-Jon/Martin | Complete
The Magnus Institute hires a Data Protection Officer. He sets about diligently booking in meetings, writing policy documents, and training all the staff in the importance of confidentiality. Now if only he could get hold of the Head Archivist, who seems to have vanished again...
(Jon is only trying to save the world, but apparently some people think he should still be doing his day job.)
↳ i’d be surprised to find people who haven’t read this series, but it’s the definition of “the magnus archives is a workplace comedy”. also, alasdair stuart has actually read some clips of this on Twitch, so that’s a fun bonus.
Bell, Book, and Candle by yellow_caballero | 102K | Series | S3 into S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete
In accordance with the Ride or Die Pact of 2009, Jonathan Sims can call upon Georgie Barker at any time for aid with no strings attached. Despite their rocky history, their childhood friendship, and Jon’s barely recovered alcoholism, this pact is sacred and must be upheld.
Georgie Barker may regret this. She may regret it when she discovers that the world is full of monsters and eldritch gods and dickhead managers. She may regret it when a punk rocker who should be dead collapses on their doorstep, a teenager again who needs their help. She may regret it when her stupid ex-boyfriend starts selling his soul for knowledge and the ability to keep his new family safe.
But she probably won’t. Georgie isn’t scared of anything - not a Clown’s apocalypse, not the apocalypse that Jon is destined to begin, and not Jon’s own loss of humanity.
Maybe she should be.
↳ if you’re looking for an everyone-lives-no-one-dies-happy-ending fic that also happens to be massively chaotic, look no further.
The Reverb in These Holy Halls by @wolftraps | 98K | AU, S1-S4 | Jon/Martin | Complete
Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.
↳ quintessential time travel AUs. plot-wise, i feel like these can be difficult to write, but op does a fantastic job of tying things together in a way that makes sense. plus, it’s just fun to read.
jon sims v the nhs by @thoughtsbubble | 12K | Series | S3 | Complete
Joan Bright has a new patient. He's carrying an old tape recorder and is covered head to toe in scars. Jonathan Sims looks dangerous, but Dr Bright has dealt with all sorts of atypical individuals. She has no reason to be nervous.
Right?
↳ if you’ve ever thought “hey, jon should probably go to therapy”, then 1) you’re absolutely right and 2) this is... probably what would’ve happened. prior knowledge of The Bright Sessions is not required. also, apparently, this fic is written by the showrunner of The Underwood Collection? wild.
Family, Found by Dribbledscribbles | 9K | S4 | Complete
It’s Basira who catches onto it.
The collective shift that seems to come over them when heading in or out of the Institute. Not just the oppressive sensation of being observed, their every move catalogued for the voyeuristic cravings of some unseen Eye(s). That feeling remained with them even when they left the Institute these days, but it was always stronger inside its walls. That wasn’t the change. Nor was it the point.
The point was: making life worse for Jonathan Sims.
↳ i think being part of the avengers fandom circa 2012 has given me permanent found-family-trope brainrot, but you know what. jonathan sims can have a little happiness, as a treat.
Road to Damascus by @titanfalling | 107K | Series | S4 | Jon & Tim | Complete
n. an important moment of insight, typically one that leads to a dramatic transformation of attitude or belief
Or, in which Tim becomes an avatar for the end of all things.
↳ tim dies and then he doesn’t. there is catharsis and world building. just....read it.
Come, Change Your Ring With Me by @backofthebookshelf | 29K | S3 | Peter/Jon, Jon/Martin, Peter/Elias | Complete
The Lukases demand the Archivist marry into the family, and the Institute relies on them too much to say no. Peter is smug. Elias is fuming. Martin is suffering. Jon thinks this might be tolerable if only Peter would hurry up and leave him alone already.
OR, the soap opera we call an Archives revolves around Peter Lukas this time.
↳ superb evil-bastards-in-love content, feat. martin pining, tim being obnoxious, and jon being... well, tired, mostly. i will literally never get tired of how op writes peter.
creatures that i briefly move along by @dotsayers | 16K | Series | AU, Post-S4 | background Jon/Martin
Mr Sims was so weird, was the thing. Miss Grant always said calling people weird was rude, and Anna sort of agreed, but she didn’t know what other word to use to describe Mr Sims.
He’d only been in with the class for a few days, really, and half of that he just sat at the back listening, but that didn’t stop her from making a swift judgement. 5BG had had student teachers before, back when they were 3ST, and they’d been uniformly normal.
Mr Sims was… actually, Anna had a better adjective. He was interesting.
↳ i just.... love teacher!jon fics. this series delivers.
Once Bitten by @apatheticbutterflies | 1K | S4 | Jon & Daisy | Complete
Jon Sims has always been a jumpy kind of guy. Nervous. Twitchy. Daisy used to think it meant he was guilty. Turns out he was. Just not of what she’d thought.
Daisy learns how to peel an orange.
↳ daisy and jon’s relationship is an example of an instance where i’m happy to say “fuck what you wrote mr. jonny ‘chocolate torte of tragedy’ sims, i want them to be friends”.
pins and needles by mutterandmumble | 13K | S1-S4 | Complete
He’s got a reputation to uphold anyways; an uptight, rigid reputation that dictates the way that he interacts and functions and is such an integral part of him that he can’t let go of it anytime soon. He likes his safety nets. He likes his contingencies. He likes his privacy, and everything around this place right down to the walls seems to have ears, so he’ll stay tight-lipped up to and beyond the threat of death.
He’s good at that.
In which Jon takes up embroidery and bumbles through life the best that he can.
↳ out of all the introspective jon pieces i’ve read (and there are many), this one stands out. maybe it’s the symbolism or the characterisation, or maybe it’s the fact that i have an embroidery kit lurking in the back of my closet along with a hundred other half-pursued hyperfixations. whatever. this is excellent.
sleeping in by @ivelostmyspectacles | 5K | S2 | Jon/Tim | Complete
“Who are you trying to convince?”
Jon gives up, letting his head sag against Tim’s shoulder. “I don’t know.”
aka Elias gets tired of Jon and Tim's bickering, sends them away for a "team-building" weekend trip, and is sure to book them a room with only one bed
↳ this has everything you’d need from a “oh no there’s only one bed” fic. someone please get these men therapy.
if you try, sometimes (you get what you knead) by @ajcrawly | 3.5K | S1-S4 | Jon/Martin, Tim/Sasha | Complete
It starts with an abundance of boeuf bourguignon and ends up as a team tradition.
Food and love in uncertain times.
↳ more found family fic, this time with a diverse og!archival staff and food as a metaphor for love. hurt in all the right ways. made me hungry in the process.
#tried to keep this shortish but i might just make a part 2#people in this fandom are crazy talented#tma#the magnus archives#tma fic recs#fic recs#long post#txt#mine
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This is my first NHL fic that I’ve actually written down lol, Rose is my OC and she’s Quinn, Jack, and Luke Hughes’ little (not-so-little) sister. I’ll do another post about her later, with important character stuff. The tag for this fic is #rosehugheshockey.
Word Count: 730 (sorry it's short)
ROSE HUGHES - SETTING UP THE STORY
“Petey, come on, please introduce us!” I whined, “he’s blonde, pretty, tall, and Swedish!”
“You didn’t lie when you said I’m the blueprint, huh?” Elias muttered. “I’m not introducing you until I ask Quinn if I can.”
“Why would you need to ask him?”
“I won’t be responsible for getting you in trouble. Or introducing you to a boy.”
“Come on, Elias, you won’t get in trouble for anything, I’ll make good decisions, promise!”
He shook his head. “Not happening unless I ask Quinn.”
I groaned in irritation as he walked away from me, towards Brock Boeser and Bo Horvat. Brock shrugged at me sympathetically, but not in a way that said he was gonna help me meet the new draftie.
Like most parties that I attended, this was an NHL event. Every year, the first-round draft picks are invited to a party where they can meet some older, more experienced NHLers; since Luke was just drafted, plus Quinn and Jack were already in the league, my attendance was basically mandatory. This was also my first party after turning 16, meaning it was legal to flirt with pretty much all of the new drafties.
One specific draftie had caught my eye already. The Red Wings’ new draftie, Simon Edvinsson, was GORGEOUS. Also, like, exactly my type! I couldn’t wait to meet him.
So, since I was standing alone at a party full of people I kinda knew, I had to find someone to talk to quickly or I’d look like a loser. Ty Smith was walking by, on the way to the snack table, so I grabbed his elbow and started walking with him. “Hey, Smithy.”
“Hey, Ro. What’s up?”
“Nothing, just joining you.”
“And what’s your ulterior motive?” Ugh, Ty knows me too well.
“Oh, nothing,” I said airily, “Just don’t want to be standing alone in the middle of a party.”
“Right. So, I’ll find out what you really want in, like, five minutes, right?”
“I don’t know what you could possibly mean, Tyler.”
We reached the snack table and he grabbed us a plate to share. “Not my name, Rosalie.”
“Yeah, the joke doesn’t work when you use my actual name.” Ty loaded our plate with fruit, cookies, and candies, avoiding the vegetables (both of us are suckers for sweets). “Call me something like Rosebush or Rowboat or something. It’s funnier.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Gimme my drink, nerd.” Ty joked.
As we walked back to the side of the dance floor, I looked over at some of the other party attendants. Owen Power, Jack Eichel, Patrick Kane, Nathan MacKinnon and Sidney Crosby, Brad Marchand, Tyler Seguin, Matthew Beniers, Connor McDavid, and Mitch Marner were all milling around, a few of them with ladies on their arms. Ty said hi to a few of the guys we passed, but we never actually stopped to talk with anyone. I’m used to people staring at me, being 6 feet tall (plus wearing 2-inch heels), but it was especially ego-boosting when the people staring were professional athletes.
Ty and I leaned against the wall, people-watching, while we ate the sweets. We totally looked like high-school mean girls; to be fair, we did gossip a lot. And randomly whisper to each other and start giggling. And give each other a look and start giggling. And give someone else a look and start giggling. Okay, maybe we were kinda the mean girls of this party, but it worked!
“Look at Quinn talking to Power over there.” Ty gestured towards my shortest brother and the 6’6” draftie.
I started laughing immediately after seeing them. “Look at the angle of Quinn’s head!”
We spent, like, 10 minutes making fun of the other attendees, just snacking and giggling like always, until Jack came over and joined us. “You guys are making everyone else self-conscious.”
Ty grinned. “As per usual.”
“Go talk to someone else, Ty.” Jack said, making a shooing motion with his hands.
Oh, no. He’s gonna either make me leave or introduce me to somebody. Ty left, taking the plate (which was pretty much empty, but still) with him.
“Something wrong, Onassis?”
“Nope, you just look like Regina George over here. Can we go talk to someone? Even someone you know?”
“Ugh. Socialising.”
“Ugh, babysitting. Come on.” he grabbed my hand and basically dragged me away from the wall, towards his friends.
#rosehugheshockey#jack hughes#luke hughes#quinn hughes#hughes brothers#nhl hockey#hockey fanfiction#simon edvinsson#elias pettersson#canucks#brock boeser#ty smith#pk subban#devils#nj devils#vancouver canucks
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AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part IV/V)
Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader
Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)
Taglist:
An unusual year: @natural-hearts @manuosorioh @lumos-solemn @westyywifee @whiskeyn-rain @warlock--protection @gossip-girl-ecr @fandomscombine @birdy944 @28cnn
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog
Warnings: none
A/N: BOI IS THIS LOOONG. I knew this part would get a bit out of hand since I wanted to write all of this in the same chapter but still damn. Anyway, enjoy <3
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part V
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
Here's a variety of Yule Ball outfits for y'all 👀:
Outfit 1 outfit 2 outfit 3 outfit 4 outfit 5
"You sure you don't wanna come to the ball?" I asked Mathilda, climbing down the dormitories' stairs.
"No, I'd rather stay..." Her mouth opened in agape when she saw me. "You look... Wow."
"Why, thank you." I replied, walking towards my best friend with a smile. "I'll probably be here before 10:00 pm." I assured her, squeezing her shoulders. "And we can gossip a bit."
"Already looking forward to it." Mathilda patted my hand with a chuckle. "Have fun, will you?"
I nodded and waved her goodbye before leaving the common room.
"Bloody hell, Y/l/n!" George, who as promised, had been waiting for me at the entrance of the dungeons, shamelessly though harmlessly, checked me out. "You clean up nice, huh?"
"Of course I do." I walked to meet him at his spot. "You don't look so bad yourself, Weasley." With his chin up and a proud smile, he offered me his arm, which I gladly took, and we headed off to the Great Hall.
A fairly big crowd had formed at the doors, mostly conformed by people who were waiting for their partner slash group, and some not-so-subtle gossips.
While I intended to go straight into the Hall, George tugged me away from the shortest path, claiming that he wanted to 'have an overall view'.
I reckoned he had something else in mind when we passed by Fred and Angelina, both immersed in their conversation until my friend caught a glimpse of us.
"Damn Y/n!" I held back George, who was playing dumb for some reason, and made my way to the couple. "You look SO good, doesn't she, Fred?" She nudged her partner, giving him a knowing grin.
"I guess you look nice." His nonchalant reply was accompanied with a shrug.
"She looks breathtaking, actually." George's correction left me staring at him speechless. "Just like Angelina."
Oh well. "Yeah" I agreed, clinging onto my partner's forearm, finally getting a vague idea of what was going on —not quite there yet, though. "Angelina, love, you look astonishing, right George?"
"Right." I could see my friend's cheeks reddening ever so slightly whilst making eye contact with George.
"Shall we go in?" I suggested, already heading to the gates.
FRED'S P.O.V
'Breathtaking' was the exact word I was thinking about when Angelina asked me about Y/n, and George knew it.
The girls probably didn't catch how my jaw dropped when I saw her, but my brother did.
He knew it.
"Go with her, yeah?" I requested to Angelina, gesturing at Y/n and at the Great Hall simultaneously. "George, can I have a word with you?"
He nodded and whispered "Go on, ladies." before walking to me. "What is it, Freddie?"
"What's your game?"
"I think I don't follow." The fact that he had the nerve to speak that blantant lie angered me more than I would ever admit.
"Why is she your date?"
"Why is she not your date?" He retorted, triggering a gasp from me, followed by a scoff. "You're not only completely oblivious, you're also a coward."
"Beg your pardon?" Was the only thing I could bring myself to say; I blamed the shock caused by my brother's nonsense.
"AND you stole my date." Oh, so this was about Angelina. "Now if you excuse me," he patted my back a couple times. "I'll go dance all night with MY absolutely breathtaking date."
"Have fun with Slytherin girl, Georgie." I replied, sprinting to reach him. "I'll go dance with our beautiful Angelina."
"Tosser." I could hear him say as I jogged into the Hall to reach the girls.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
READER'S P. O. V.
George probably wasn't the best dancer, but he clearly knew some moves, and made me want to stay on the dancefloor for a good couple of hours, having a great time.
That's one of the reasons why I decided to help him out.
"Oi!" He leaned on and I stood on my tiptoes, holding onto his forearms so I could speak directly into his ear. "Wanna dance with Angelina?"
"Maybe" He slightly pulled away and both our gazes spotted the girl, dancing madly with Fred. "Yeah! Yeah I do!" He shouted so I could hear him over the music, now that we were apart.
"Alright, come!" I tugged his hand and together we narrowed the already short distance between them and us.
The timing was perfect, almost as if it was meant to be like that; the moment we reached them a slow song started to play.
"Angelina, may I steal your date for a dance?" I requested, not waiting for Angelina's nod before letting go of George and tugging Fred's hand. "You can have mine." I spared my friend a teasing smile and a wink while I pulled her date away from George and her.
"Stealing me away, huh?" Once we were far enough, I spun around and held up one of his hands, his left one falling on my waist and my right one on his shoulder. "Eager to be near me again, Y/l/n?"
"So I'm not 'Slytherin girl' anymore?" I raised my eyebrows at him with a smirk on my face as we swayed.
"You heard that?" All from sudden he turned somehow self-conscious.
"This may come as a shock to you," I peeked over his shoulder to check on George and Angelina. "but you two are quite loud."
"I didn't mean it." His word had way more regret than necessary for something as stupid as what he was sort of apologizing for.
"I know." My eyes returned to his just in time for him to made me twirl and pulling me back to him, this time a bit closer than we were before. "Asking Angelina out was a shitty move." I pointed out.
"You won't believe me," he began, "But I completely forgot." I snorted. "I swear!" His eyes widened and both our mouths twisted into an amused smile. "She was near me when Ron asked me who I'd be taking, and I didn't think twice."
A soft, genuine laugh escaped my lips; one which made the boy in front of me smile.
"Is he pissed?"
"Earlier? Very. Now?" I gestured behind Fred, urging him to look at his twin brother, now kissing Angelina. "I don't think so, no."
This time it was his laugh that made a smile tug the corners of my mouth.
"You do look breathtaking." He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. "Dunno why I didn't tell you earlier."
"Because you're a twit." He chuckled, shaking his head with his eyes fixed on our feet. "You look very handsome, though."
"I am very handsome." He corrected me, looking at me again, now with that damn smug face.
Out of every possible comeback, I chose the one that he expected the least. "Yes, you are." His cheeks turned mildly red and his grin fluttered; I counted it as a win.
"You're beautiful." He returned the compliment, after a moment of silence, to which I responded with a confident 'I know'. "So cocky."
"That makes the two of us." I pointed out.
Silence fell among us again. Comfortable silence, though, one that I could get used to.
Another twirl, another pull to stand even closer.
A small lean was enough for my head to rest against his chest. I blamed tiredness for the need to do that, but I didn't find anything to blame for the way his heart was pounding against his chest, nor for that strange feeling in my stomach.
As soon as he took a deep breath, we both eased into each other's arms, giving up the tension that our bodies had held.
We stayed like that for a while, until I looked around and realized most people had left, George and Angelina included; the dancefloor was now almost empty.
"I don't know what time is it," I spoke, letting my fingertips trace random patterns over his shoulder, dancing down to his chest.
"Me neither" he spoke, making me sway.
"I reckon this is the longest we've been together without jumping down each other's throats." I observed. "And it's probably the longest—"
My words died when, without any kind of warning, his lips landed on mines.
His right hand unconsciously gripped mine for an instant with such force, almost as if it was holding onto it for dear life.
Before I could even think about kissing him back, he retreated back to his previous position, offering me a smile I couldn't decipher accompanied by a wink that made him look relaxed an confident.
All façade, I thought to my self, as he said nothing —no teasing, no cracking jokes; he just kept slowdancing, his hands now more loose, seeming like he was prepared for me to run away; his gaze was also casted down and his cheeks flushing.
I would have teased him if it wasn't for the way I felt my own face burning.
I did let go of his hold, and he subtly stepped back, lowering his arms.
Just like me, he didn't have time to react when I pulled him down, cupping his cheeks for a proper kiss, which he returned instantly.
I felt both his hands on my hips as he leaned on, drawing me against him as close as he possibly could, while my hands left his cheeks to circle his neck.
All of a sudden I remembered that I needed to breath; I broke away, leading my hands to his shoulders, where I could feel how heavy his breathing was.
"What's just happened?" I mumbled, my eyes fluttering open to look into his.
"Dunno." He confessed. "Did you like it?"
"Very much." I replied instinctively, not bothering on thinking it through.
"Wicked." He muttered against my lips before going in for the third kiss, this one more heated.
With a hand on his chest i slightly pushed him away, scanning the place around us before asking, "Wanna go for a walk around the castle?"
"Please." His response was so immediate that we both had to chuckle at it.
"Wicked." I mocked, earning a playful push from him. I my fingers interlaced with his and I led the way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
FRED'S P. O. V.
"Shhh!" I playfully shushed Y/n's giggles, loosely hugging her from behind with my lips pecking her shoulder as we went downstairs in the direction of her House. "You don't want us to get caught, do you?" I let go of her waist just when we found ourselves halfway through the corridor.
"Merlin's beard—" Y/n, who had turned to face me, widened her eyes at the sight of me under the dim lights of the dungeons. "You're a mess." She whispered between quiet laughs, raising her hands up to my face to try and remove some of the lipstick stains she had left all over me.
"Don't you dare laugh, woman." I feigned pain, only making her giggle more. "You made a mess out of me."
She held my chin and moved my face from side to side, checking if she had made it any better. "What am I supposed to do with your neck?" She huffed.
"Place a couple more kisses there?" I suggested with a smirk, fixing her hair as best as I could. "Or a bite, you choose."
"I'm serious." Her thumb gently rubbed the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
"Let them there for people to see." I was joking. My tone was playful. I didn't really mean it.
It was just a joke, right?
Her hands slid down my chest before leaving my body. "I'd rather not to." She replied absent-minded, making me realize that maybe I wasn't joking; maybe I wanted people to see— to know.
She didn't, though.
"Hey, everything's alright?" She questioned, concern making its way to her face when her eyes found mines.
"Of course." I replied— no, I lied. I lied to her and to myself. "Just tired."
"No wonder why." She laughed at her own innuendo, but the only thing she got out of me was an unenthusiastic half smile. "I'm gonna head back now." She added, probably sensing something wasn't right. "Get some sleep."
"I'll go have a shower." I informed her, stepping back in the stairs' direction without breaking eye contact.
"See you in a couple of hours." She responded, mirroring my moves, but towards her common room.
I nodded briefly before heading up to my own House, craving a cold shower to shake her voice off my mind and detach her touch and kisses from my skin.
#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x slytherin!reader#fred weasley#fred weasly x reader#fred x slytherin reader#fred x y/n#fred weasley icons#harry potter and the triwizard tournament#harry potter fanfiction#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley smut#triwizard au#triwizard tournament#harry potter#harry potter imagine
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s1 Jonmartimsasha Polycule headcannons (NSFW under the cut)
Tim is the tallest at 6’3, Martin is 6’, Sasha is 5’10, and Jon is the shortest at 5’7
Martin is the first one to say “I love you” to all of them. Tim and Sasha has said it to each other before, as they were together before the polycule got together, but not to the entire group.
They’re all really into board games. Sasha and Jon get super competitive, so much so that they don’t even notice Martin and Tim teaming up to beat them.
They all love music. Any kind of music really. Sometimes they tease each other about the kind of music they listen to, but they will listen to it anyway because music is a great way to understand the deepest corners of someone’s heart and mind. (If they were all alive and well in 2021 they would go HARD to drivers license)
They love dancing too. They have dance parties in their living room all the time. Tim was an assistant dance teacher at his local community center throughout most of university, so he teaches them to salsa and swing dance and ballroom dance and so much more. Jon was a bit grumpy about it in the beginning, but now he’s really good at dancing.
They usually share a bed, but they do have a second bedroom as well for guests if they have them or if one of them is sick or just doesn’t want to share the bed that night. Everyone thought it would be Jon who used it most often, but it’s actually Sasha. In fact, Jon only uses it when he’s contagious.
Sometimes Sasha will go to sleep in the spare bed, then get lonely or cold during the night and have to rejoin the “boy pile” as she calls it.
Jon is basically a clingy cat. He can’t resist cuddles, naps, and warms rays of sunshine. He may even purr if you play with his hair.
Jon is tiny and all the others can and do pick him up, sometimes just to mess with him.
Sasha has an undercut and the boys take turns choosing what color to dye it. Tim actively tries to pick the mose outlandish and funky colors. Martin spends a lot of time thinking about her hair color, skin tone, and the colors of her clothing before he picks a color that would go well with everything. Jon always forgets until they’re in the store so he just picks the first color that speaks to him, and it usually ends up being Sasha’s favorite.
They convinced Jon to dye one of his grey streaks purple once. He really liked it but Elias gave him dirty looks until it faded.
Once when they had all gotten a bit drunk, Tim convinced them all to get matching tatoos. They decided on each getting the symbol for a different suit of playing cards on their ankles. Martin got a heart, Tim got a diamond, Sasha got a club, and Jon got a spade.
Legally they couldn’t get married but after a while they start calling each other their spouses and they even get wedding bands.
They have an elderly long haired cat named “Sargent Fuzzypaws” or “Sarge” for short.
They have weekly movie nights where they take turns picking movies. Martin likes sci-fi and fantasy, Tim likes classic B horror movies, and Sasha likes period dramas or superhero movies. Jon makes them watch documentaries at first, but once he is comfortable that they won’t make fun of him, he reveals his true love of rom coms.
Jon and Sasha are more or less the same clothing size, and they share clothes all the time. Jon especially likes wearing her skirts and dresses. He likes them so much in fact that Tim, Martin, and Sasha buy him some for his birthday.
Jon and Sasha also love to steal Martin and Tim’s clothes because they’re big and comfy.
Every weekend they go out on a date that they take turns planning. Martin tends to take them on walks in the park and nice picnics. Tim drags them to clubs whenever he can (he claims it keeps them young), but will bring them to a pub instead if they’re not feeling a club that night. Jon likes to plan day trips to Calais. It’s a long drive (about 3hrs each way), but they don’t mind as long as they’re spending time together. Sasha plans these fun guided tours of musesums, historical events, old warships, “haunted” buildings and whatnot.
Jon doesn’t have his drivers license. Tim does but he’s a terrible driver, he speeds, he takes turns to sharp, and he practically gives the rest of them a heart attack every time. Sasha and Martin are the only good drivers.
Sasha and Martin were the ones who decorated the flat. Tim’s still a frat boy at heart and after seeing his old apartment, all three of the others decided that he couldn’t help them decorate. He didn’t really mind until they made him throw out his rainbow monster energy can display (“But Sasha, it’s a rainbow! We’re gay! It fits perfectly!” “Idc Tim, it’s ugly”). Jon’s taste was a little too dark for the rest of them. They spent the majority of the week days in a dark basement, they needed a bright and colorful place to come home to.
They all think they’re being really subtle when they first start out, but everyone knows right away. Elias considers talking to them about it, as a relationship between archival staff is strictly against the employee handbook (that he wrote of course) but then decided to leave it be as the closer they are, the easier it will be to use one to manipulate the others.
They have pride flags all over the apartment. Pan, bi, ace, poly, the classic rainbow flag, they even have duplicates of some of them.
Tim is incapable of not buying anything rainbow that he sees. Everytime he goes out for groceries he comes back with balloons, or a rainbow bouquet, or more likely, some sort of candy with rainbow packaging.
Speaking of bouquets, Martin loves buying them flowers. He does it all the time. He’ll pick them up on the way home or even have them sent to the institute, anything to bring a smile to their faces.
The group dynamic changes so much based on who’s hanging out with who. Here is a handy chart:
Jon is pretty sex neutral. He doesn’t tend to engage, but he usually likes to watch or just be in the same room. Sometime he sits with them on the bed and kisses/touches them, though he rarely wants to be touched.
When he does want to be touched, the others spend hours taking him apart completely.
He does love kissing and making out though. Martin in particular loves making out with Jon. Jon will often get him worked up and then turn him over to Sasha and Tim to take care of the rest.
Tim and Martin get so horny when they’re alone together. Tim’s a literal sex god and he loves groping Martin and whispering dirty things in his ear to work him up. Sasha does this to the two of them as well, though not as much as Tim.
When Martin tops he’s sweet and gentle until he gets close, then he pounds in mercilessly.
Sasha’s rough the whole time. She slaps them and bites them and calls them names the whole time.
Tim’s really good at dirty talk. He’ll lean down and whisper beautiful yet filthy things in their ear until they come
Jon is king of aftercare. He’s become so in tune with his lovers’ bodies that he always knows exactly when to put the kettle on in order to have warm tea waiting for when they finish.
#the magnus archives#the magnus institute#tma#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jon sims#elias bouchard#jonny sims#sasha james#tim stoker#jonmartin#jonmartim#jonmartimsasha#tma s1#tma s1 spoilers#tma season one
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Replaced
Day 6 of LonelyEyes Week 2021
Prompt: New Body
Elias is dying and Jonah must survive.
Read on AO3 here
Jonah needed a new body.
Jonah had enjoyed being Elias. Handsome, unwanted, rich.
All of Jonah’s favourite things in a man.
But Elias had a record now, a reputation. Too many ordinary people were watching him for even the shortest slip-up, and he was in prison! This wasn’t exactly an excellent place to be.
His Archivist had managed to pull Mr Blackwood away from the Lonely and had attacked Peter before the other man had even managed to drag his unwilling Archivist onto that forsaken beach.
Peter.
Well…
Peter was unresponsive. It wasn’t the first time Elias had seen him like this, after Gertrude had interrupted his ritual it had been the same. The poor man was just overwhelmed without the fog of his patron surrounding him.
He loved Peter, probably.
It had been a long time since he had loved anyone, but he was sure the feeling was vaguely the same. No matter how many divorces or marriages, the furious arguments and the cold silences, Jonah knew that Peter would always come back to him. And he did. Barely functioning as he was, Peter still managed to stumble back to him.
Jonah needed a new body.
The Lukas’s didn’t want Peter.
They hadn’t wanted him when he set out to sea for the first time. They hadn’t wanted him when his ritual failed. And now they certainly wouldn’t want him when this second, smaller ritual had failed as well.
It would be so easy.
Peter couldn’t fight back, not right now. He was the head of his Institute, was richer than Elias had ever been, it would cement future funding for the Institute without effort for at least another three generations. He was handsome, though not the type Jonah usually went for in a body.
But he loved him.
Peter wouldn’t be the first of his lovers to fall in his quest for power and immortality. His ruined world would come and the needs of petty mortals were but a distraction on the way. He had let Barnabas be killed, was he less important to him than Peter?
No not really, he loved them both equally. He would have married Barnabas just as easily as he did Peter if it had been allowed at the time.
He guessed that the difference was age. He was tired. He wanted the companionship he had so thoughtlessly thrown away as a young man. And Peter had been that.
But…
He needed a new body.
Jonah could feel blood running between his fingers as he pressed it to the wound in his side. Martin might have been panicked as he had Jon had fled, but not enough to not try and get a hit in before he went.
A lucky shot, just up and between his ribs. He didn’t have long and Peter was right there.
Jonah knelt down to where Peter had slumped against the wall of the Panopticon, eyes blankly looking around. Peter didn’t react as Jonah pressed his hand to Peter’s face, his cold skin frozen into a corpse-like pallor.
It would be quick. He could make it quick for Peter. Normally he dragged it out, made his new bodies suffer and fear as he took them over, but for Peter he could make it quick.
Jonah pressed his lips to Peter’s.
“I love you Peter. I… I truly am sorry.”
Grey eyes blinked open, barely any different from the cold blue eyes that rested in his palm.
Jonah carefully placed them into a jar, he knew a place he could get them preserved, you tended to after 200 years of eyeball removal. He ran thick fingers through course white hair. He would do, for now.
Jonah bent down to the bleeding and broken body of Elias Bouchard and removed the wedding band that had sat on his finger, tucking it into his pocket.
Peter Lukas walked out of his Institute with a calmness that covered up the roiling ocean inside of him.
He had his Archivist to find.
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From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)
Chapter 2
Masterlist
Want to be on the tag list?: Tag list form
A/n: Hi!! Here’s chapter 2!!! This chapter is from Elias’s POV, the rest of the chapters will be a combo of the two (and probably one or part of one) will be from Brock’s POV eventually😁 these first two chapters are more just setting up everything. please let me know what you think! All feedback is appreciated!!!!
Warnings: A LOT of cursing (sorry...sorta), Petey not listening, might be a little cheesy (I’m not sorry), an attempt at Swedish (pls let me know if It’s wrong), I think that’s it, lmk if I missed one
Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader
Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers
Legend: on chapter 1
Word Count: 1.8k (this is the shortest one)
Summary: Yeah so, Elias has a “teenage-reminiscent” crush on the one girl he was terrified to like, so he makes a plan to just be her friend, it doesn’t go to well, so he makes a new one.
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PRESENT
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Petty had a crush on Y/N. Y/N Boeser, the one fucking girl he can't have. His best friend's little sister.
When he met her at the mid-point of his rookie year, he'd already heard a lot about her. Brock had told him so many stories and he learned so much about the infamous Y/N, and the more he learned, the more he really liked her. Then there were the other stories Brock told him, the ones that included guys. One he recalls quite clearly.
November, 2018
They were sitting on Brock’s couch, watching One Tree Hill,
“Petey, have I ever told you about Chad?” Brock started.
“No, why?”
“Chad was my best friend in middle school, all the way up to my senior year. Then he wanted to date Y/N.”
“What do you mean ‘up to’ your senior year?” His attention was taken away from the show completely at the mention of her name.
“Well, I told him I didn’t want him to go out with her, but that it was her choice, not mine. So he asked her out, and they dated for like 3 months. Then he broke her heart.”
“What did you do?” Elias was curious.
“Oh, I broke his face”
Elias was shocked, he’d never known Brock to be anything but a (slightly obnoxious) ray of sunshine. “...oh, uh... so what happened to Chad after that?”
“I stopped being friends with him, and so did the rest of my group of friends. Normally I’m not like that, but he messed with Y/N/N.”
“Yeah, I get that. My brother’s girlfriend is basically like my sister and if anyone hurt her, I don’t know what I would do.”
“Yeah so anyways-“
Elias zoned out as Brock kept talking, just thinking about what would happen if he asked Y/N out. He decided then that no matter how perfect and incredible she was, it wasn’t worth his friendship and career with his best friend. He’d just be her friend if anything. And who knows, maybe he’d never even meet her in person.
_______
Now, as he’s walking to the break room Brock asked him to meet him in, he's remembering tjrs how ignorant that plan was. Because once he met her, it was a lot more challenging than he could’ve imagined. The second he met her in person, that plan was incinerated as a possibility.
Dice and ice (February) 2019:
Elias showed up 20 minutes early, he is so nervous. This is his first dice and ice and from what people told him, he knows this isn’t his kind of event. He’s not social, he’s an awkward Swedish hockey player. Not to mention the amount of extra attention he’s sure to get tonight. Brock had told him how much attention he received when he was the star rookie, and that made Elias even more anxious. Thanks, Brock.
He paced near the front waiting for Brock to get there, imagining all of the ways he could humiliate himself in front of everyone. He was in between “eating too much fancy food and throwing up” and “getting so nervous he forgets how to speak English” for being the worst.
Just as he started to get nauseous from remembering the rookies have to do a performance every year, he found himself unable to breathe. This wasn’t because of the inevitable doom tonight was bound to bring though. He saw the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on the arm of his best friend. Her dress, her hair, her makeup, her legs, everything he could see was just beautiful.
“Petey!” Brock shouted.
Elias couldn’t speak still but he made eye contact with Brock.
“Woah bud, you doin’ ok?” He said with a concerned look.
A choked, “Uh…” was the only thing that came out. Though, he felt that was a sufficient answer to Brock’s question. Elias’s eyes made their way back to the girl now standing behind Brock, since Brock took it upon himself to grab Elias’s face and get very close. He inspected Elias, seeing if maybe he was sick or had a concussion.
Brock must have been satisfied with what he saw since he took a step back, letting go of Elias’s face. That’s when he noticed his best friend looking at his “date” for the night.
“Petey, this is Y/N/N, Y/N/N Petey,” Brock said, gesturing to the two of you.
“Y/N/N?” He asked, suddenly able to speak again. He was looking at Brock with scrunched eyebrows. ‘Is it actually her?’ was all her could think.
“Yeah, Y/N/N, you know, my sister that I’ve told you about at least 20 times?”
Elias nodded and looked back at her.
She waved a little, “Hi, it’s Elias right?” she asked.
“Hmm? Uh, yeah, that’s right.” if he wasn’t sweating before, he definitely was now. “It’s Y/N?”
She nodded “yeah but you can call me Y/N/N, most people do.”
He likes her first name though, he thinks it’s such a perfect name, so he decided to just call her Y/N.
All three of them stood there awkwardly for a moment. Though to Elias, it felt like it could’ve been a few hours. He was completely mesmerized and terrified by you.
Brock cleared his throat, pulling Elias back to the world, “so, let’s head inside?”
“Yeah sounds good,” Elias walked in and held the door open for her and Brock.
Walking in right behind them was Jacob, he put his hand on Elias’s shoulder.
“mår du bra? du ser sjuk ut. (are you okay? You look sick.),” he asked.
“Jag kommer att bli bra (I will be fine),” he responded with an unconvincing grin.
As the night went on, Elias couldn’t seem to relax; he kept making sure his tie was straight and he couldn’t stop fixing his hair. For a while, he had to take pictures with the fans and families, with Brock...obviously.
“You just need to relax, Petey,” he had said this about 5 times already.
“I know, I just don’t want to embarrass myself, I’m not very social. I hate these events.”
Brock chuckled, “I swear, the more I learn about you, the more and more I think you and my sister are the same person. The only reason why she’s here is cause I bought her a new fancy dress and cause she’s gonna try and kiss some ass and get a job with management.”
“Wait, so she’s moving here?”
“Oh yeah, I asked her to. Depending on if she gets the job, of course, which she’s sure to get with her resume.”
“Oh, cool.”
“Hey, I’m gonna go find her, you need to relax, just breathe,” Brock said as he stood up to walk away, “And stop imagining the worst things that could happen,” knowing his best friend all too well.
Elias walked over and sat with Bo and Holly, just trying to get through this night without having a panic attack.
The rest of the night went fine, no vomiting or forgetting English, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Because of his luck, that’s when he saw Y/N, and he couldn't look away. She was standing in the corner, looking insanely nervous. Before he could think about it, he was walking over to her.
“You doing ok?” he asked.
“That obvious?”
He looked down at his shoes, “Hey, at least you don't look sick like I did apparently.”
That made her laugh, one of the happiest sounds he’d ever heard. “Yeah, you didn’t look too happy to be here.”
“Well, these events aren’t really my thing. I heard they aren’t yours either?” he finally looked in her eyes, which was not a smart decision.
“God, no, absolutely not. I hate these things, I don’t get why I need to dress like this and kiss up to people to get a job that I’m already very qualified for.” She took a pause, “even though I do love this dress...”
There was a little silence as Elias wasn’t sure what to say, he decided on, “If it helps, you look very pretty, and I like that dress too.”
She blushed, “thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself, Elias”
The way she said his name sent chills up his spine, Brock introduced him as Petey, but not once had she called him that. She only called him Elias, and it sounded perfect coming from her mouth. The thing about her was, the more he looked at her, the more beautiful she became in his eyes. The way she laughed, the way she stood with her legs crossed, the way she constantly crossed her arms. To most she probably seems unwelcoming cold, and closed off but to Elias, he saw someone just like himself and-
Oh shit, what is he doing?
He’s literally doing the exact opposite of what he said he was going to, he needs to get away from her. He needs a drink is what he really needs.
That’s when Brock walked over, “hey! There are the two most unfun people in this place!”
“Jackass,” she quipped.
“I’m gonna go talk to Marky,” Elias said, trying to make his escape.
“Fine then, leave me to avoid socializing alone, I guess” she called at him sarcastically.
He nervously laughed and turned around, quickly making his way to the patio that he knew was empty.
Once he got outside he took a deep breath. “Fuck,” he sighed. He stood there thinking of what he needed to do. He couldn’t end up like ‘Chad,’ he had to stop whatever this is that’s happening to him when he saw her. He’s never felt like this, he’s never even had a girlfriend for Christ’s sake. How the hell did he feel like this for a girl he doesn’t really know? He wished he’d never met her; when he’d never met her in real life, he could imagine she looked weird, or maybe she was really rude (not that he thought anyone related to Brock could be rude). However, that could not have been farther from the truth. She was amazing, and so incredibly beautiful, but not in the conventional way like most of the WAGs here tonight, most of them fit the “hot model, super social, 50,000 picture taking” stereotype that Elias personally didn’t find all that appealing. Shes the perfect height for him, perfect size for him, her hair color and length was even perfect, and that was the problem. She was everything he didn’t want her to be, and more. Her personality was exactly what he wished his future wife’s personality would be: sweet with a little bit of sass, would rather stay inside, doesn’t take shit from people, while still a bit awkward, witty humored, sports loving, lazy Sunday having, and just goddamn perfect. The first word that came to mind when thinking of Y/N, was just that: Perfect.
So he knew what he had to do, he couldn’t be her friend. One small conversation proved that tonight. He had to avoid her as best he could, and do the things he didn’t want to do to her: be cold, shut her out, not talk to her alone. It was going to be incredibly difficult, but he valued Brock's friendship too much.
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PRESENT
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As he looks back, it was the best decision. It was definitely torturous to him, but he had to. Especially after literally every one of his closest teammates was basically like a big brother to her, or a best friend, or a “cuddle buddy” whatever that meant. He can’t even imagine what would happen now. JT, Bo, Brock, Troy, Thatcher, Marky, even Quinn would have his head if he tried anything. And God if he wasn’t terrified of the rage in JT’s eyes when anyone messed with Y/N, it wasn’t human and no one can convince Elias otherwise...seriously fucking terrifying.
-----------------------------------
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#from a distance: series#hockey#nhl#elias pettersson#vancover canucks#elias pettersson fic#elias pettersson imagine#elias pettersson imagines#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks imagines#vancouver canucks imagine#elias pettersson x reader#nhl fic#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#hockey fic#hockey imagines#hockey imagine
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I’m sorry if this has been asked before, but I wanted to know how capable your ocs were at carrying their darlings, and their preferred way of holding them if they can?
Seóirse - 10/10 - Big thick seal genes. Likes to carry you in the crook of his arm.
Harley - 10/10 - A lifetime of farm work is more than enough. Heaves you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes more often than not.
Isabelle - 10/10 - She's used to carrying dead weight. She'll lift you up under the armpits.
Avi - 10/10 - His strength is a matter of wolven pride. He'd grab you in a full nelson and pick you up off your feet.
Morgan - 9/10 - He may lay on the couch a lot, but he's still pretty thick. He loves piggybacking you.
Vivi - 9/10 - She has a habit of picking up her smaller friends. She'd carry you under her arm.
Ilya - 9/10 - Long and strong with elven glory. He'd hold you up by the wrists to look you in the eyes.
Angel - 8.5/10 - She spends a lot of her time outdoors, and she likes changing up her furniture. She'd adore having you sit up on her shoulders.
Chihiro - 8.5/10 - Average android strength paired with some modifications. They'll probably hold you upside down by accident.
Makoi - 9/10 - If he can't carry you then what even is the point? Carries you on his back, especially if you don't want to walk.
Leo - 8/10 - He has to exercise a lot to work out his energy, and he loves his daily walks. He'd pick you off your feet and carry you close to his chest.
Adrian - 8/10 - He's built but he's getting up there and his back hurts sometimes, otherwise he would be higher. He'd do the little airplane carry where he lays down and holds you up on his feet.
Lilith - 7/10 - She's pretty average for her lifestyle, but she likes doing workout videos while she waits for her baking to cool. She'd pick you up in a hug.
Ebbi - 7/10 - His career causes him to put in a good amount of exercise, especially with hauling all that camera equipment. He'd probably do a fireman's carry if he picked you up.
Leigh - 7.5/10 - Toned and flexible from all that swimming. He'd bridal carry you for sure.
Ken - 7/10 - He doesn't look it, but he's got the strength to drag you around. He'd pick you up and balance you on his hip.
Elias - 7/10 - It's been awhile since he's done any farm work, but he's surprisingly still pretty strong. He would haul you up into his arms by the waist.
Tsubasa - 6.5/10 - He's not quite as advanced as Chihiro, but still pretty sturdy. He would have your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck while he holds you.
Hyun - 6.5/10 - He keeps himself in relative shape in case of dire circumstances. He'd love sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around.
Umi - 6.5/10 - They're more flexible than they are strong, but they can still throw their weight around. Would lay down and hold you up using their hands and feet against yours.
Mel - 6.5/10 - Catlike reflexes and experience from play-wrestling with Leo. He'd love to hold you up against a wall.
Jiyu - 6/10 - She keeps up her endurance and her flexibility for the fans. She'd grab you from behind and swing you around off your feet.
Thorn - 5/10 - His intelligence is stronger than his muscles, and it's not something he's proud of. He would bridal carry you to the best of his ability.
Suki - 5/10 - He's quick but his strength doesn't quite match it. He'd grab you by the scruff of your neck.
Nina - 4.5/10 - Strength (or lack thereof) isn't really a motivator in her life. She would tie you up and pull you around.
Noel - 4/10 - He's one of the shortest, but he still has some natural strength as a hybrid. He would pick you up by the waist and hold you so you lean over his shoulder.
Tsung - 3.5/10 - His strength fails him at the most inopportune times. He'd try to pick you up and haul you over his shoulder.
Ingrid - 3/10 - She's feisty but still small, so lifting people is a bit difficult. She'd probably have to drag you.
Kaito - 2/10 - He doesn't get out much and spends most of his time at his desk. He would stick to having you in his lap and holding you upright while he works at his computer.
Seiko 1/10 - She could carry someone, but she gets too nervous and drops things. She might be able to give you a piggyback ride, or so she thinks.
Yuri - 0.5/10 - He's only weak to a point, the rest is just because he'll have to catch his breath or he'll get faint if he exerts himself too much. He would love to bridal carry you.
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