your out-of-state friends laugh when you tell them you live in misery. you laugh too. you have to laugh. it’s a joke. only a joke. you wish you could make them stay away. they laugh it off.
“you haven’t been to the city museum?” you ask a friend. “you have to have been to the city museum!” have you been to the city museum? you can’t remember. maybe you went there on a class trip. you must have been. everyone has been to the city museum. everyone. you suddenly remember that your friend is still waiting for you inside the whale.
the tv screen goes white. oh no. oh no. black text begins to scroll across the screen. you feel sick. “accept jesus into your heart”, the man says. his voice is familiar. you’ve heard it so many times. who is he? who is he? he runs the church not far from here. but who is he? you’ve seen his face, but you can’t picture it. the black text is running on a loop now, you’re sure of it. “accept jesus. accept god. jesus loves you. jesus loves you. we love you.”
everyone has a ghost story. but everyone swears that ghosts don’t exist. which is it? missouri is a ghost story. all our houses are haunted. by the dead, and by those on their way.
you just want chick-fil-a. everyone wants chick-fil-a. but it’s sunday. wasn’t it sunday yesterday? you swear it was. but isn’t tomorrow sunday? chick-fil-a is closed on sundays. it’s always closed.
you’ve passed 9 churches now. or was it 10? you can’t remember. you don’t want to. everyone is at church. dead eyes stare at you from the windows.
the past week has been nothing but thunderstorms. thunderstorms and tornados. it’s okay. no one you knew was in the path of the tornado. no one ever knows anyone in the path of the tornado. and you love thunderstorms. you love them. you say this through a tight-lipped smile.
you will never leave this place. you want to. but no one ever leaves. do they?
there are coyotes everywhere. you know this. that’s what they say. those strange howls at night. the missing pets. it’s the coyotes. it has to be.
you receive a letter. its address reads “st. louis”. no, that can’t be right. you don’t live in st. louis. you look closer. your zip code is there. but you don’t live in st. louis. you’ve never lived in st. louis. you feel afraid.
there are hawks. on every fence post, on every telephone pole, every road sign. they mean nothing, you tell yourself. they’re only hawks.
you love going to st. louis bread company. it confuses your out-of-state friends. “do you mean panera?” they ask. no. you don’t. you mean st. louis bread company. they’re different. they have to be.
a tornado is coming. you could be in its path. no one would know you. you go to the store. it’s fully stocked- except for bread, milk, and eggs. there is no more bread. there are no more eggs. there is no more milk. why? why is that all we take? what do we subconsciously know is in those three foods that will save us?
“what high school did you go to?” that’s the question they always ask. why? you try to remember. you can’t. did you go to high school with them? yes. yes, you must have. didn’t you? you can’t even remember being a teenager.
billboards seem to be everywhere. you don’t even recognize what they’re selling anymore. they blend together.
you’ve only been to the arch once. so has everyone you know. you go there once, and then never again. you don’t remember how you got to the top. you hate elevators. you always have.
you look up at the shadow in the sky. your stomach drops. that’s not a shadow. it’s a massive cloud of black birds. they seem to be swarming directly above you. you can’t stop staring. every part of you goes numb. you think you hear someone screaming. is it you?
Prompt- ““The police just threatened you
to put your weapon down and you retorted by saying that you’ll take something
extremely valuable, and then you grabbed me wTF DID YOU JUST WINK AT ME.” with
I love soft aesthetics
I love yellow flowers
I love painting on a warm day
I love sitting in the grass with friends and talking for hours
I love strolls in museums and analyzing every peice of art with your friend
I love pretty drinks and sunny days
I love reading art books all night
I love the color of the sink after washing your paintbrushes
I love going to thrift stores and finding the nicest clothes
I love writing poetry in a sketchbook when I’m sad
I love grunge aesthetics
I love worn down boots
I love adrenaline rushes
I love doing things you’re not supposed to do
I love skipping class
I love peircings and tattoos
I love spending the day in the big city with friends
I love abandoned places
I love the sound of spray paint
I love the colors black and red
I love red roses
I love listening to music so loud that you can’t hear your own thoughts
I saw this kind of post going around and I decided to be unoriginal and partecipate.
ISFP: creative face painting, genuine laughter, having a picnic with a few close friends, beanies, cat cafes, the color green, the smell of grass after it rained, a sunny day with a few tiny clouds
ESFP: blue butterflies, staying up to watch the dawn rise, dancing on your own, frivolous giggles, peaceful protesting parades, Rio carnival, dancing in the rain, dim pink lights
ISTP: leather jackets, the smell of gasoline, the color brown, walking alone through a crowd that’s walking in the opposite direction, late nights spent drinking and chatting with a few friends, hiking, motorbikes, lighting a match
ESTP: smirks, camping, firecrackers, running through busy streets, beer pong, gambling, british rock, fighting for someone you care about, roadtrips
ISTJ: Valkyries, being able to “see” your breath when it’s cold, ancient books, stalactites, flannels, intense stares, well-aligned book piles, any type of mythology, candles
ESTJ: organized notes, rings, fixing your tie, spending time with your family, being proud of your friends’ accomplishments, the smell of graphite, movie night with your friends
ISFJ: dandelions, pastel colors, enjoying classic literature, blouses, acoustic guitar, cupcakes, early summer mornings when the air is surprisingly cool, gardening
ESFJ: Christmas morning, sunlight, spring, flower compositions, the feeling of being in love for the first time, warm hugs, travelling, photo albums
INFJ: cloudy sunsets, knowing you’ll miss a moment while it’s still happening, cursive handwriting, being underwater, fantasy books, flower crowns, walks in parks, the color lilac
ENFJ: a clear night sky, golden retrievers, quiet cafes, sleepovers, reassuring smiles, fancy jackets, pool parties, warm blankets, relieved sighs
INFP: walking barefoot in the sand, pugs, being in your pajamas all day, awkward smiles, dream journals, hanging Christmas lights on your bed frame, poetry, giving advices
ENFP: karaoke night, rainbows, soap bubbles, graphic tees, homevideos, unexpected sarcastic remarks, unnatural hair colors, trying to stay positive through hard times
INTP: skeletons, when everything is calm right after a storm ends, eclipses, museums, having an epiphany, feeling at ease while being with your friends, nerdy shirts, laying in bed thinking
ENTP: hopping on a bus without knowing its destination, grins, playing would you rather, exploring a part of your town you had never been to before, the color orange, going on a holiday with your friends, bonfires
INTJ: conceptual maps, walking alone at night, having ink stains on the side of your hand, the distant sound of a siren, the color purple, voltures, worn out shoes, working late at night
ENTJ: the contrast of black and white, watching your friends’ back, sci-fi novels, coins, challenging stares, mountains, the skyline of a big city at night, clenching your jaw
Summary: Tag to “The Raid.” When Dean and Ketch go investigate the vampire hotel, they run into a familiar face.
Characters: Dean x Reader, Arthur Ketch
Word Count: 1480
Warnings: Angst, mild violence, passing mention of suicide
Author’s Note: I had a “what if” moment and fell down a rabbit hole. Enjoy!
“I checked the upstairs area. This place is a ghost town.
You got anything?”
Even being dragged by your arms across from the hard floor
of the hotel lobby, you recognize the gruff voice and cringe. It belongs to
someone that you never thought you’d see again and someone that you’d never
want to see you like this.
“Indeed.” Stiff, British asshole drops your limp body to the
floor with a dull thud. “Found her hiding in the basement with the corpses.”
Request: hi! i am not sure if you still write for scarlet heart ryeo, but if you do could I request a angst for wang baek-ah any kind of angst that you would like to write, but can the ending be fluffy. thank you 😊💗
~Note: I am trying something a little different for this one. I hope you will like it!!~
You always woke up in a confused and sad state. A symptom you brought back with you after a near death experience. A car crash which was caused by a drunk driver that took lives from the people you were in the car with and left you in a coma like state for nearly 3 months but if felt like years. You were scarred and wheelchair bound for gosh knows how long but you were glad to be alive.
Yet all you could dream about the Goryeo Dynasty and the son’s of King Taejo during that time and even now. You were a daughter of the king named Wang Hee Ji and managed to get a stupid crush on your half brother, it grossed you out but it was something you never wanted to forget. That you died so young and without telling the man she loved that she loved him. But one thing you knew was that she died in his arms after begging him to take her from the unstable home they all grew up in. Not that you could truly believe that Wang Baek-ah would fall for you when he was mad for Woohee. You were crazy to believe it was real. But you were going to have to live in the now more than the dreamland you created.
Your headphones rested in your ears as your friend pushed your wheelchair in the museum with your college history class. Almost instantly pulling them out as you read the little board near the door it was a Goryeo exhibit. “Baek-ah” you mumbled as your friend gave you a look “what?” she asked “nothing nothing. Don’t worry” you tell her. Your eyes danced around before landing on the presenter of the exhibit. You didn’t catch on the similarities of the man and someone from your past.
“BB cream” your friend said as she moved away from your seat before coming back “this could get rid of that thing” she said gesturing to your scar “scars don’t change people” you tell her as you pushed yourself over to the counter putting the jar back up before linking eyes with one of the people. “Soo” you spoke loudly as she looked up before looking down at you “Heeji” she said back before your friend grabbed your chair.
You calmly sat taking in the art, Wang So was clearly there. “You can leave me” you tell your friend as she went to grab the chair again. You gave a sad smile as your mind flashed back to everything. Eun, Won, Wook, Yo, So, Jung, even Baek-ah were real.
“How long were you alive after I passed?” you hear you recognized the voice as you smiled “I have no idea really” “4-5 years. I died don’t know from what before 30 I know that much” you say with a laugh. “I’m back to being 22 again” you say “I’m Y/N Y/L/N” you inform as you stick your hand out. “Go Haejin” she said as you looked at her you could see the tears and sadness she leaked as you smiled. “You’ll find him” you said as you grabbed your hand “here. I would like to text you” you say as she takes it from you.
“One more month of this” you mumble as Haejin held your door open to a fast food place. “Spicy kimchi noodles” you tell her knowing you still couldn’t hold a tray well on crutches. She handed you the cups “coke” she says with a smile as you nod heading towards the fountains.
You awkwardly stood as you went to fill the cup, your arm let go of the crutch and it almost instantly fell before a hand grabbed it. “You look like you need help” you hear as you smile looking over almost falling over when you took in the person in front of you. But he quickly grabbed you “you don’t need to fall for me, you know?” he jokes as you snapped out of it. “I am Joohyuk” he told you as he stood you up taking your cups and passing your crutch back. “What do you need?” he asked as you smiled “coke and then a lemonade” you told him as he nodded. “Dude where are we sitting?” you hear as you looked back. Yet another smile crossed your face as you noticed Jung. “We can find a place when I put her drinks down on her table, Jisoo” he explained “you guys can sit with us” you told them as he raised his brow “really?” Joohyuk asked as you nodded.
“So are you single?” Joohyuk asked as you nodded “why?” you ask with a smile as he sits the drinks down on the table and Haejin looked shocked “reasons” he flirts as Jisoo puts the tray down on the table. “They’re as real as we are” Haejin says as you nod. “I want Baek-ah in this life” you tell her as she smiles “we’ll find So now. I know it” you say excitedly as the males took seats across from you two. “So how did you end up on crutches?” Jisoo asked “I just got in an accident and then got banged up” you say not wanting to go into too much detail as he nodded.
“I know this is a bit forward but I want you guy’s numbers” you say as they both look up “I want to get to know you guys better” you continue. “Maybe you more” you say to Joohyuk as Jisoo scoffed but gives you a playful smile as Joohyuk smirks happily. “And my friend here as well. I want all of us to be good friends” you continue as you start eating.
your glasses, messy braids, stormy piano pieces played in an empty house,
running your fingertips over Books arranged on a shelf as you walk past, messy
hieroglyphic handwriting, large cups of tea, pensive silences, video games,
perfectly sharpened pencils, tshirts two sizes too big, empty museums, awkward
dance moves, sarcastic retorts and sly grins, fierce protectiveness towards
your friends, the value of pi, old bookstores, giggling at stupid puns, pitch darkness,
catapults, obsessions, ‘Why is everyone so stupid?’, ball pen doodles on the
knees of your jeans, appraising yourself in the mirror, covering any hurt with
snappy comebacks, bony wrists, red velvet cake, fluctuating interests, Latin
phrases, passionate debates about trivial things, naming your plant, refusing
to let yourself cry, research papers, Reading wikipedia articles for fun,
spouting random facts, sharing significant looks with a friend, bad hair days, painting on your bedroom wall, reading under
the blankets by the light of a torch, tattoos on your wrists, worn out
converse, messy tables, stacks of journals, thinly-veiled sarcasm, , the smell of Mint.
inspired solely by @siriuslysarcastic, the most INTP person I know (the only INTP person I know)
Summary: (Set just after the events of winter soldier and before civil war) you run into a certain super soldier at the Captain America exhibit and come to his aid when he needs help
Pairing: Bucky x Shifter!Reader
Word Count: 3,400
Warnings: mentions of death, brief mentions of capture/torture, language, migraines…
A/N: Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted any Bucky… life’s been crazy, to say the least. Anyway, I’ve been working on a prequel to my “just you and me” series, and here it is!! It’s a tad more fun to do than a rewrite, so I hope you guys like it. Again, new to writing Bucky so constructive feedback is always appreciated! (That is NOT my gif, found it on google)
Tbh going to the same museum more than twice feels like visiting an old friend of yours. Looking at the paintings that you’ve already seen before and having this feeling that the two of you are sharing a very special bond
Virgo moons feel like laying in a field with just the right amount of sun. Like the scent of the paper in a new book. They are the feeling of reading a great book for the first time and experiencing all the emotions of the characters. Virgo moons are the peaceful silence after the overbearing noise. They are the fascination within museums. The trustworthy, reliable friend to stick by your side.
El Diablo x Reader: I Hold To Those Who Favour Fire
Imagine you have ice powers and were part of task force x, and post SS live in a cell next to El Diablo. You are just friends but you both want more.
Everything was frozen solid. The air around you was frosty, and you thought you would see your breath if it produced heat. You were completely surrounded by Ice, even the ground beneath your feet was solid and cold. The closer you looked the worse it became. A boomerang was stopped mid-air and your eyes quickly traced it to a blue hand, Digger’s hand. Panicked, you ran up to him and studied his face- he was frozen solid. It was like you were in an ice sculpture museum, but all of the works of art were your friends- dead underneath.
You woke from your dream shivering violently with icicle tears on your cheeks. It wasn’t the first time you had dreamt of that particular outcome, and it would certainly not be the last. Sometimes you even feared closing your eyes. There was one person you knew could relate, and he was just a few feet away.
It made sense to put yours and Diablo’s cells right next to each other, since your powers cancelled each other out. You learned that the hard way on a mission when you both hopelessly went after the same target. Shortly after you returned from the first big mission, Diablo was brought back after sacrificing himself to stop the enchantress’ brother. Waller was hesitant to follow his special request- give you and him special access to each other’s cells so you could help one another if your powers went out of hand. The facility soon put in handprint recognition technology on both of your cylinders that would only allow the other to enter. This would be the first time you had attempted to use it without asking Diablo if you could come in first, but the anxiety following your dream pushed you to slam your hand on the pad and slide in.
Chato sat up abruptly with the clank of the door slamming automatically behind you and blinked confusedly for a few moments.
“Y/N?” He questioned groggily.
“Yeah.” You murmured back, walking a little closer so you were stood beside him.
“What are you doing in here? It’s still dark out.”
You felt guilty for waking him up, knowing how seldom he actually slept.
“I-I had a really bad dream and I couldn’t stop myself, I was so scared. I thought if I saw you It would raise my temperature and I could stop shaking. It sounds stupid- I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll go.” You turned toward the door, embarrassed by your childishness. Suddenly a hot hand wrapped around your wrist.
“No no-it’s alright, come here.” Chato encouraged, gesturing for you to sit.
You turned back toward him with a sheepish grin before plopping down cross legged on the floor. He curled his legs in to match yours and studied your face as he reached out his other hand.
“Is this okay?” He asked, holding both of your hands in his to warm them.
“Yes, thank you.” You smiled slightly and gave his hands a squeeze.
“Do you mind talking about it?” He asked, peering into your eyes for confirmation.
You stared back into his dark orbs and shook your head gently.
“I froze everyone, all of you.” You whispered.
“I killed every last one of you with my stupid powers. Everyone I still care about- dead.” A whimper escaped your purple lips, deepening Chato’s frown. Instinctively his thumb brushed over the side of your cold hand. To him it felt amazing, an icy chill that extinguished his ever burning flame.
“Lo siento, mi carambano.” He said quietly in his hypnotic accent. There was something about Spanish that made your heart ache. Correction: there was something about Chato speaking Spanish that made your heart ache.
“I know you must get them too, the dreams.” Your eyes focussed on your hands, latched to his.
“Every time I close my eyes. But I’ve learned how to fight them.”
“How?” Your head snapped up suddenly, intrigued.
“I think about something that brings my heart joy, not sadness.”
“And it works?” You were sceptical.
“Usually, but it depends on what I’m thinking of. Small things make them fade for a moment or two, but the thoughts that make me really happy chase them away for hours.”
“Like what?” You wondered innocently.
If at all possible, his cheeks became hotter from embarrassment at the thought.
“The look on your face when we shook hands the day we met.” He chuckled.
“And the way your mouth hung open when I set half the hotel on fire.” He was holding your hands tightly, grinning at the memories.
“Or at the bar when I told everyone what happened to my family and you touched my hand.” He smiled downwards as you began to blush. Was he… Confessing?
“I guess one of mine would be…” You hesitated for a moment, but if he was spilling his intimate thoughts to you it was only fair you share some with him.
“When Digger slapped my ass and you set his sleeve on fire.”’ You giggled, causing Chato to smile.
“Or the look on your face when you saw me out of my prison get up for the first time.” You thought back to the way his eyes lit up when they landed on your figure.
He smirked, remembering your lacy blue crop top and white high-waisted shorts.
“What about when i spoke Spanish to you and you wouldn’t talk to me for six hours?” He grimaced.
“It’s not my fault that your language is so beautiful.” You defended.
“And is it my fault that your body is so beautiful?” He countered. That one shut you up briefly before sending you into a tornado of indignant sputtering.
“I- you- my- body-beauty-wha-” You worked up the courage to meet his gaze.
“Tu cuerpo es muy hermosa.” He murmured shyly, lifting your hand to meet his lips.
You could have melted.
“Here I am, absolutely smitten, and for all I know you could have just called me a fish.”
His lips linger and his breath ghosts across your hand.
“Si.” You giggle.
“So you do know some Spanish.”
“Yeah I guess if you count Burrito, Nachos, Taco, salsa…” You trailed off, recognizing that you had ruined the moment.
Chato burst into a fit of deep laughter, lowering your hand.
“You couldn’t have thought of something sexier to say than Burrito?”
“No! Like what?” You laughed.
He stopped for a moment before leaning over so his hands were on either side of you and his lips were against your ear.
“Quiero saber lo que su cobello se ve como en la manana.” His breath hissed against your skin, and you shivered.
Before he could pull away you reached up and softly grabbed his collar.
“What does that mean?”
“You will never know.” He breathed, his mouth inches from yours.
“I promise you I did not call you a fish.” He smiled.
“Tell me.” You pleaded, your lips almost brushing against his.
“What will you do if I don’t?” He asked cheekily.
In a moment of confidence you pulled on his shirt roughly so his lips smashed down onto yours. He was still at first, shocked by your sudden move. After a second he kissed back, gentle then burning with passion and thirst. He guided you forward with one hand so he could fall back instead of teetering above you. You knelt in front of him, hands still gripped tight to the orange shirt, as you moved your lips in sync with his. Finally, he pulled away for breath.
“If that’s my price then I’m never going to tell you.” He gasped, resting his hands on each side of your face.
Captain's Log (Steve Rogers/Captain America Imagine)
I’ve never done a Steve Rogers/ Captain America imagine before so this is going to be new and fun.
I hope you enjoy!
After moving into the Stark Tower, you’ve gotten extremely comfortable with the rest of the team. Especially with the gentlemen of the 1940s, more so Steve. There was something about their vintage essence that just made you feel right at home, maybe it was because you loved the style and the way everyone spoke back then. But nevertheless, you felt as if you were meant to be friends with the two.
In less than a month, you’ve actually gotten so close to Steve that he’ll let you borrow his shirts to wear as you slept. You found his loose fitted shirts and a pair of pajama shorts a pure bliss to sleep in. Not to mention his clothes smelled like him. Let’s face it, you were head over heals for the super soldier.
He was out and about the city, as he normally did when he wasn’t on a mission, and you waltzed int his room to steal more of his clothes. He really didn’t mind you taking his clothing; it became like a routine for you both. He’d rummage through his drawers to find a certain shirt and when he finds it’s missing, he searches for another shirt as he knows that you must’ve taken it.
You found a shirt that was decorated in stars and stripes and laughed. “Of course, you’d have this shirt, Cap.” You thought aloud before putting the shirt back an looking for another. While searching, you stumbled upon a hard, book-like structure. You reeled the object out of the drawer and found a moleskin journal in your hands. “What’s this?” You questioned.
You knew it was an invasion of privacy, but Steve and you shared secrets all the time. And it’s not like he would find out that you read it. You made a promise to yourself that if the journal held very personal things that you knew he wouldn’t want anyone to know that you would immediately shove the book back into the drawer.
You peeked inside the journal and smiled at the sloppy but yet legible handwriting that had to belong to Steve. It readCaptain’s Log then a date that you couldn’t recognize since the ink had been smudged. I’m joining the army. Oh, Bucky is certainly going to end me once he finds out. He’ll probably tell me how I’m stupid and stubborn and how I should learn to walk away from a fight. But I had to. I’m probably the shortest guy here and most certainly the smallest. That doesn’t matter. I’ll prove to everyone here that I’ll be the best soldier.
You smiled as you can feel his charisma in his words. The next page told about how a fake grenade was thrown in the group of soldiers as they trained and only Steve was brave enough to cover the explosive with his body. They had chosen him for a special experiment that would make him, not into just any regular soldier but it turned him into a super soldier. He also wrote about his time performing as the Star Spangled Man. He wrote about the time that he rescued Bucky and the relief that took over him after realizing his best friend was alive. He certainly proved that he would be the best solider as he fought battles with that shield of his. And then the journal took a ultimate time jump. It started back up in the 21st Century and he wrote about his adventures with the Avengers.
There was a cough that shook you from your concentration on the journal. You looked up and saw none other than Steve Rogers. “Hey.” You whispered out, awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I saw it and I couldn’t help myself.”
He gave you a soft smile. “I’m a grade A loser, don’t you think? Writing about my journey like a teenage girl writing about her school day.” He blushed a little as you shook your head, your brows furrowing.
“How could you think like that about yourself?” You asked, putting the book down and going up to your friend. “These entries, or should I say, Captain’s Logs,” you winked at your friend, “are amazing. The museums can document the war and how it was fought but this journal explains how it feels to have fought in that war. Your writing is amazing and a teenage girl’s diary can’t compare.” You didn’t realize with each word you said that you and Steve had gotten closer and closer to one another.
He smiled down at you and before you know it you were kissing Steve Rogers. You gasped into the kiss before melting into the chemistry and the fireworks between the two of you. You pulled away first and smiled at him. It was silent for a few seconds. His hands were still on your cheeks. the both of you blushing like crazy. “Hey, have you seen (Y/N)-woah am I interrupting something?” Wanda burst through the doors as Steve immediately let you go.
“No…” You trailed off, rushing over to your friend. Steve heard Wanda’s squeaks of excitement as she awaited the details that never came.
The next morning as Steve was off on his morning job with Bucky and Sam, you went to his bedroom to sneak a peak of his journal, which you wanted to read more of. You noticed that there was a page that was freshly written.
Captain’s Log: 7/14/2016
I’ve done it. Bucky has been pushing me to follow my heart and go after (Y/N) and I’ve finally done it. I’m not entirely sure if the feelings were mutual but the blush on her cheeks and the fireworks in the kiss definitely said otherwise. It was amazing. She was amazing. Now I really feel like a teenage girl writing about her crush, but I can’t help it. I think I’m really in love with this woman. And I know this journal has been mainly full of adventures I’ve been on, but I feel as if the possible blossoming romance between us is a whole new journey that I’m too excited to be on.
You smiled as you read Steve gushing about you. And certainly the feelings were reciprocated. You heard a small chuckle and you looked up, startled. “Couldn’t help yourself, now could you, doll?” Steve grinned.
malfoyyoulilshit said: Hey could you please do another Ahkmenrah imagine from Night at the Museum? Thanks, love your imagines xxxx
Ah yes, an excuse to write more about my pharaoh
You strolled through the museum, munching on Red Vines and humming under your breath, saying hello to the various exhibits. You were trying to find Attila, Jed, and Octavius, your three best friends in the museum.
“Oi! Dad!” you yelled.
“I’m busy, talk to Teddy!” he hollered.
You groaned and went off to find the president. “Hey, Ted.”
“Hello (Y/N),” he said, smiling warmly.
“You seen Atilla and the mini-boyfriends?”
He chuckled. “Last I saw, they were plotting in the hall of miniatures.”
You pretended to be outraged. “Without me?”
The man chuckled. “I’m sure they won’t do anything without you. Go find them, and do try not to cause too much havoc.”
You grinned. “Thanks Ted.”
“Anytime,” he said, tipping his hat and riding away. You marched to the hall of miniatures and walked in, stopping with your hands on your hips. Atilla saw you first, and his eyes went wide.
Jed and Octavius turned around and saw you and immediately stopped talking.
“Are you guys plotting without me?” you asked accusingly.
They grinned sheepishly. “No offense intended, Gigantress,” Jed said, Octavius nodding in agreement.
You rolled your eyes. “Uh-huh, sure. Where are we going tonight?” you asked.
Jed and Octavius climbed up your arm until they were sitting on your shoulder. Atilla picked you up and put you on his shoulders and walked out of the room.
Jed tapped a finger on his chin. “How about the Egypt exhibit?”
Octavius nodded in agreement. “I believe the pharaoh is the only exhibit that you haven’t met yet. Atilla, to the Egypt exhibit!”
Atilla grunted and stopped moving. You patted his shoulder. “Please,” you added for the tiny Roman. Atilla started walking again until you reached the exhibit, where he lifted you off of his shoulders and put the tiny men in his hat.
Before you could ask where the pharaoh was, the three exhibits disappeared out the door, shutting it behind them. “Guys?” You tried the door, but it was locked.
The two giant jackals came to life and came at you with razor-tipped spears.
“Shit,” you mumbled.
The came closer, and one nicked your shoulder. You could feel the warm blood trickling down your shoulder.
You hissed in pain and slid between their legs, coming up next to a coffin. The inhabitant of said coffin was banging on the inside of the lid.
You looked around, desperate for an escape, but no such luck. “Fuck this!” you screamed, and in a last-ditch effort, you shoved the lid of the sarcophagus off and the thing inside sat up. “Oh, hell no,” you muttered.
The guy yelled something at the jackals and they stood down. He reached up and unwrapped his bandages.
Holy shit, the guy was a babe.
“Are you all right?” he asked with a concerned look. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch, I’ll be fine. Jed, Octavius, and Atilla, however… They’re all going to be puddles of wax when I’m done with them.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you by any chance (Y/N)? Larry’s daughter?”
“I am Ahkmenrah. Come, let’s get that looked at.” He pulled off the rest of his bandages, revealing his royal garb underneath. He hopped out and you tried not to stare at him as he grabbed his crown. “Let’s go then.”
“Uh, the door’s locked,” you said quietly.
“Well now, that is an issue, isn’t it?”
You nodded. “I can call my dad to come let us out.” You pulled out your phone and dialed his number.
After five minutes of waiting in an uncomfortable silence, Larry opened the doors. “Sorry I wasn’t here to get you out sooner Ahk,” he said. “I was busy dealing with the breakroom problem.”
The king nodded. “Don’t let it happen again though, please. Fear of tight spaces is not a pleasant thing.”
Larry nodded apologetically, and his eyes widened when he saw your arm. “What happened to you?”
“Nicked by a jackal spear. I’m fine though.”
“Let’s get that cleaned up.”
You and your dad headed down to the break room where the first aid kit was kept. Ahk followed tentatively, not sure if he was supposed to stay with you, or go somewhere else.
You thanked Larry and got up, wandering around the museum and munching on an apple you grabbed from the fruit bowl.
“Do you need something?” you asked the pharaoh, noticing that he was still following you.
“Uh, no, sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You shrugged and kept walking until you saw your three friends. “You!” you shouted. Their eyes widened and they began to run. “Oh, hell no.” You took off after them, dropping the apple and grabbing the lighter in your pocket. you took a short cut and cut them off at the end of the hall, grinning when you saw Ahk blocking the other end. You cornered Atilla and the miniatures, holding the lighter to their faces menacingly, making them all cower in fear.
Ahk found himself admiring the fact that you could make a six and a half foot tall hun cower in fear using only a tiny plastic lighter.
“Who’s brilliant idea was it to lock me in the Egypt exhibit with the homicidal jackals then?” you snarled.
Jed and Octavius pointed at each other, but Atilla pointed at Jed. You picked the tiny cowboy up by the back of his shirt. “Explain.”
He sighed. “We wanted you to meet the pharaoh,” he said meekly.
You rolled your eyes. “That couldn’t have waited until he was actually out and walking around?”
If plastic could blush, Jed would be. He hung his head. “Sorry Gigantress.”
Octavius echoed him and Atilla nodded apologetically.
“Y'all are idiots,” you snorted.
“Are we good?” the tiny cowboy asked apprehensively.
You grinned. “Yeah, I s'pose we are.” You whistled and waved Ahk over. “Thanks for helping me out,” you told him.
He shrugged. “They locked you in with, what was it you said? Ah, yes. ‘Homicidal jackals.’”
“Hey, I stand by that,” you said.
He laughed. Good god he had a nice laugh. “I suppose you have good reason.”
You grinned. “Damn right I do.”
Ahkmenrah couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the foul-mouthed girl standing next to him, surveying the entire museum over the balcony, watching her brother play fetch with the giant dinosaur.
“That looks like fun,” you said as you watched Nicky ride around on the T-rex.
You whistled loudly, catching the attention of the boy and the dinosaur. “Catch me!” you yelled, launching over the railing, landing on the dinosaur with a thump.
The two of you ran off, laughing like idiots. “This is awesome,” you said, grinning.
Nicky nodded in agreement.
Ahk watched in shock as you launched yourself over the side of the railing. She’s insane, he thought. I love it.