#Sort of trying to figure these number out since if you want to write any fic in Lightning Thief you need OCs to fill out the cabins

[bluefox4]

What are these numbers, Rick?

Ok, so, I was going through the first Percy Jackson book trying to figure out how many campers would be in each cabin at the start of the series before the war. And just, the numbers that Percy gives the reader are weird? I guess?

Ok, so in “My Dinner Goes Up In Smoke“ Percy gives the reader of how many campers there are at camp with the following line:

“In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads.“

Ok, that’s a lot of demigods. There are 12 cabins so it makes sense that there would be a lot of demigods. But Cabin 1-3 are empty as is Cabin 8. But these numbers wouldn’t be so weird if Percy didn’t give us some numbers for the other cabins.

In the same chapter he gives the reader a rough idea of how many campers are in Cabin 11 and Cabin 6.

Cabin 11: "The whole cabin, about twenty of us, filed into the commons yard."

Cabin 6: "Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her gray eyes and honey-blond hair."

Cabin 11 is an estimate so not concrete and a bunch when referring to people can mean 5 or more from results that the internet gave me when asking what a bunch refers to.

He also gives us more information in “We Capture a Flag“. We get concrete data points for Cabin 12, 9, and 5.

"From what I'd seen, Dionysus's kids were actually good athletes, but there were only two of them.”

"Hephaestus's kids weren't pretty, and there were only four of them, but they were big and burly from working in the metal shop all day."

That of course, left Ares's cabin: a dozen of the biggest ugliest, meanest kids on Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet."

Whereas the remaining cabins we aren’t given any concrete data to work with. He mentions Demeter and Aphrodite kids, but only that he doesn’t think that for Capture the Flag that they will be a threat. Nothing about how many kids each of them have. Only Apollo gets a mention about the size.

"Athena had made an alliance with Apollo and Hermes, the two biggest cabins."

So, here I am trying to figure out just how big these cabins are. So, if we take the estimate of a 100 campers as the number of campers at camp that is our starting number. Hermes and Apollo are the biggest so no one else can have 20 campers since that is how many Hermes has roughly.

So, when we take Cabin 11 out of the equation we have 80 campers left to distribute. Unknown how many are in Cabin 7 just that they have a lot. Taking out Cabin 12, 9, and 5 that takes 18 campers out of the equation leaving us with 62 campers to figure out which cabin they go in. As I said, a bunch seems to refer to 5 or more when referring to people. And when Percy was talking about a bunch in relation to Cabin 6 it was Annabeth and a bunch of her siblings. So, she wasn’t included in that initial number. So, I’m going to go with Cabin 6 having 6 kids. At least for the purposes of trying to figure out how many are left to divide between the three remaining cabins. So, take 6 campers out of 62 campers leaves us with 56 campers.

56 campers being divided between the three remaining cabins seems like a lot. Cabin 4 and 10 aren’t being mentioned have having a lot of campers, but they also aren’t really mentioned as having very few campers either. I’m not sure if I would say either of them would have a dozen campers either though. If I just assume that Apollo has about 20 campers then dividing the remaining 36 campers would get 18 campers in Cabin 4 and 10, which seems like that would be too many for Percy to dismiss their cabins no matter what their skill levels are like. If I go with about 10 campers in Cabin 4 and 10 than that means that Cabin 7 would have 36 campers, which seems like too many campers for one cabin.

There is always the case that Cabin 6 and Cabin 11 actually have more than I assume that they have as well. And there is always the case that there are less than a hundred campers at camp as well. Just a hundred is the number that Percy gives out so that is naturally the number that I want to start playing around with.

Just, Rick gave us numbers and I am of course trying to figure out what these numbers mean and how to divide them up among the cabins.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"

Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.

"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."

She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.

Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."

Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"

Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."

"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."

He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.

---------------------------

The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.

She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.

Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.

The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.

With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her. 

"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."

"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.

With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."

Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."

"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."

Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit. 

"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.

She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.

A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."

There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.

"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.

"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."

Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.

"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.

"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."

"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"

So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."

His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"

"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"

Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"

Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."

She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."

He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."

She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go." 

Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.

-----------------------------

"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"

Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.

"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.

"I haven't seen her again in weeks."

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."

"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.

"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.

He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.

Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?

It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.

He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.

Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.

He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.

----------------------------

Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.

"Anna!"

At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later. 

"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"

Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.

"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."

"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.

"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously. 

Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes. 

Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."

Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"

"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."

The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.

When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.

----------------------------

Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.

When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.

Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"

The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"

Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.

"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."

Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"

The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"

His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."

The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?

He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.

He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there. 

"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.

He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.

"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.

--------------------------

I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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[layyeschips]

Patron Ghost King AU #2

A sort of continuation to this

"hey bats, I think your kid's broken" "hn" "what's green flavour?" "what's a poptart?" "dude you don't know what a poptart is?!?!?"

Tim couldn't be bothered to figure what came from who, not when he's just trying to block out the unnecessarily bright lights of the watchtower. So he did the thing that any other self respecting tired student™️ would do, which is tossing the spare oreo he had in his suit pocket onto the hastily drawn summoning circle that one John Constantine brought with him on a piece of paper.

Now the last thing the League was expecting to happen was the lights dimming and green smoke coming from the printer paper that John took from who knows where.

---------------------------

Danny doesn't usually do this much paperwork in one sitting but someone just left a full mug of coffee on his shrine in hopes of being able to finish their assignment on time so he might as well finish the small pile he has on his desk. Ever since he accidentally gained a following he could taste the offerings and even feel the strong emotions from each one of them. It's not a really a big deal, pushing waves of calm/relax/focus doesn't take much energy and the offerings are nice too. So when he felt the pull of a summoning followed by drowsiness, exhaustion and the familiar taste of a stale oreo, who was he to reject the call of one of his favourite humans?

First of all, kind of rude to be summoning your patron by using such a small summoning circle but he'll cut the poor student some slack. Secondly, bright lights were definitely no good for this sleep deprived human, he'd probably be more comfortable if Danny turns it down a bit. The room full of heroes and magic users were unexpected but, hoLY- IS HE IN SPACE????? Did he say one of his favourites? He meant his number 1 favourite.

Sorry this was a bit short but feel free to write down/comment your own additions to this au. I also don't mind if anyone wants to write their own fic based on this but do tag me if you do!

Also sorry if I missed some tags, I tried. I won't be doing a tag list in the future because I don't want there to be people who are left out

[tag list] @gin2212 @jaggedheart11 @amercurio @raven-6-10 @onlyhereforthechaos @booklover9114 @fisticuffsatapplebees @overtherose @impulsiveasshole @shorterthanadverage @mimilikey @mnemovoid @chip-thief @mouzerequis @thegatorsgoose @spectralstardustandphantomnights @malice-of-the-sunrise @temporalhunter @nappinginhell @idkmrpianoman @vythika96 @seraphinedemort @meira-3919 @avelnfear @akikkobara @addie-lover-of-stories @ghostface3100 @yurineko135 @sjrose1216 @proper-idiocy @screamingtofillthevoid @sailor-goddess @the-legal-shipper @alcorbearson @dannyphantomphan @lady-time-lord- @starlightcat04 @liedboutmurder @jerithe @dixiwoods @gamma-radio @mirellacoco @blankliferain @violetfox2 @nexux-point

[ghostlykeyes]

HI honeyy I love ur blog!!! can u please write the headcanons for kayn and K/da f!reader...how do the two of them explain their relationship to their fans or maybe they give a moment in a few shows?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN: K/DA READER ♡ Female Reader ♡ SFW, with slight touching/sensuality ♡ No TWs ♡ THIS GOT SO LONG. I am willing to write more for this situation, since I had to cut a lot of my OG ideas to make room for what felt the most important...truly Kayn floods my mind and cannot be expressed or exhausted

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KAYN

When Akali dragged you along to one of Kayn's birthday parties, all she wanted was a drinking buddy to keep her company while Kayn was doing, quote, "birthday boy shit". She wasn't expecting you and Kayn to hit it off so well. She definitely wasn't expecting to find you two wedged in a coat closet, shoving your tongues down each other's throats. She had two words for Kayn as she linked her arm in yours and tugged you out from between a leather jacket and an 80's windbreaker; "Do. not."

But, after two torturously long weeks of you never shutting up about Kayn during rehearsals, and Kayn texting her so much she has to threaten to block him for any sort of peace and quiet (at all hours of the night and day, "hey gimme your hot friend's number", over and over AND OVER AND OVER), Akali comes around. She's just worried for you. Kayn's got quite the reputation, and she doesn't want him to fuck around with you and break your heart. But, she figures, you're both adults, so who is she to stand in the way of whatever you've got going on. So she eventually texts Kayn your number, but not without a warning; "you remember I know martial arts, yeah? and that I can totally kick your fucking ass? don't break my girl's heart dipshit".

On the whole, K/DA supports your budding relationship with Kayn. Even though he's a bit wild, the group's whole thing is about being individual and true to yourself—it seems hypocritical to tell you that you can't be caught holding hands with Kayn in line at Chipotle anymore for the sake of the band's image.

Heartsteel is a bit more tentative about you and Kayn. Alune's nervous to have Kayn dating such a high-profile star when Heartsteel has literally JUST broken onto the scene. But, this is Kayn, after all. What are they going to ask him to do, stop seeing you? He wouldn't listen. Besides, you do seem like a good influence in his life, and if the way his eyes light up whenever he sees your name pop up on his phone screen say anything, he's crazy about you. Eventually Alune sways other management and teams to embrace your relationship, as long as the two of you try to keep it relatively low-key.

If anyone ever implies he's with you to boost Heartsteel's fame or that he's trying to ride K/DA's coattails to the top, Kayn blows up. "We don't need shit from anybody," he sneers, "we're gonna climb to the top all by our fucking selves. Oh, and if you think (Y/N) would settle for anything less than a born rockstar? You're fucking stupid."

For your part, you're more subtle when publicly discussing your relationship with Kayn, but you still shoot down any ideas that he's with you for your status. "Heartsteel definitely doesn't need K/DA's help," you assert. "They're superstars and they're earning their spot on the music scene fair and square."

Kayn is your absolute fucking biggest superfan. He knows your lyrics front-to-back, he shows up to every single event he can, and he even uses Ezreal's Mercari account to snag rare merch that's being resold. Kayn tries to play it cool, but come on. You've seen the amount of posters he tries to hide in his closet. Only a fanboy has a collection like that.

There's hundreds of paparazzi photos of you two floating around on the internet, and Kayn's got a love-hate relationship with that fact. On the one hand, he loves being seen with you—what better way to claim you as his own than a photo of him literally grabbing your ass on the cover of a trashy gossip mag? On the other hand, can't a guy get some goddamn privacy? He hates that he has to share you with anyone, prying 'journalists' included. To make light of it, though, you two have started a little game. You send each other the wildest claims you can find about your relationship, trying to one up the other. Kayn's still winning with the article claiming that he's exercising some kind of mind-control to make you his girlfriend.

Flipping off the camera and open-mouth kissing you is one of Kayn's favorite poses to strike if he notices paparazzi lurking. For your part? You're just happy for his attention.

Kayn loves when you sneak into his shows. You usually have to wear a hoodie and go incognito to avoid getting mobbed, but don't worry, Kayn can pick you out of a crowd no matter what you're wearing. Sometimes, if you're standing close enough to the stage, he'll take off his shirt and toss it at you. He gets off on the attention, on thousands of people all-but-worshipping him, and if his favorite person is in the throng, knowing his worst parts but screaming for him alongside everyone else, just the same? Ego-boost of the fucking century. He may not express it to you often, but he really, really appreciates when you come see his shows.

Your packed schedules present a challenge, and Kayn despises the fact that you're often touring hours away from him. He still tries to talk to you as much as possible, even if it's not in person. Expect daily FaceTime calls, frequent Discord DM's, and around the clock blurry pictures of Kayn causing mischief.

Bless Akali's heart because Kayn absolutely harasses her about you. Whenever you're busy, he bugs her; "tell my gf to come back from the ded". Anytime you're on tour, he Venmoes her money to buy you your favorite fast food. She complains to you constantly—"tell your purse dog to stop yipping at me"— but really, she doesn't mind spoiling you by proxy. She's just happy that Kayn dotes on you so much.

Kayn jokes about making you late for rehearsal a lot—especially if he's halfway down your neck in a heated makeout sesh—but the truth is, that's never going to happen. Sure, he dicks around a lot, but he never gives less than one-hundred-and-ten to Heartsteel and he's not about to let you slack off, either. That includes making sure you get to your K/DA commitments on time (even if your neck is littered with hickies).

Kayn loves when you show him your choreography. He listens intently as you explain how to go through the steps, or complain about what you're struggling with. Often, he'll offer critique; "you look a little off-balance, try standing this way," or "Have you tried positioning a little more to the left?". Sometimes, these are genuine tips. Most of the time, though, he's just looking for an excuse to feel you up. What better way to sneakily touch your boobs than "suggesting" your chest needs to come out more?

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Hello, I did not want to disturb but I wanted to know how the stands of Bucci-Gang + Trish and Diavolo would behave in front of their beloved?Since they are manifestations of his soul, they would also show his Yandere side, sorry if it is a lot of work and I love how you write

*just so everyone knows I keep a lot of asks and hope to eventually write them later if I really like the concept…even if it may literally take an eternity to get to them*

So since this is Yandere focused I’m going to lean on that, but you’ll get to see the expressions of obsession as I write.

Yandere Bucciarati Group + Diavolo and Trish’s stands reacting to their darling

Bruno Bucciarati

Generally speaking Sticky Fingers particularly seems to “stand guard” around you. It’s fingers sometimes float across your skin, gentle touching. But at a moments notice is quick to use its ability if Bruno even suspects you trying to escape or pull something. There are times where you feel it grab your arm and drag you closer to its master.

Leone Abbacchio

Since his stand doesn’t really have offensive capabilities, it tends to like also hanging around you. Though if Abbacchio really insists on you not leaving his side, Moody Blues will do its best to keep you still. If he decides to use his ability depending on where you’re at, it does it relatively quickly and quick to pause with precision if it’s something like seeing your face sleeping at night. Simply watching you seems to be one of its favorite things to engage in.

Guido Mista

The Sex Pistols pretty much adore you, even the troublemaking number stops being a nuisance when you’re around. If you can see them, they insist on you feeding them when mealtime comes around. They may slightly pester Mista saying you’re better at doing so simply for holding food a certain angle. He enjoys this as much as the pistols do, and even if you can’t see them and feed them they still generally cheer when you’re around. if anyone outside the gang and Mista himself, they’ll end up reacting somewhat hostile. Snide or sarcastic remarks if someone tries to romance you.

They’ll also pester Mista if he hasn’t seen you in a few days due to a job or something he had to take care of on his own.

Narancia Ghirga

Aerosmith’s flight patterns seemingly change course a bit when you’re around Narancia. Out of protective instinct, it seems to fire it’s bullets/weapons more aggressive if you’re in any sort of immediate danger. Or if Narancia is tracking, Aerosmith seems to get a quick reading on you, fast. For some reason if the stand was used casually, the way it would fly around would be akin to something at an air show. Presenting the way Narancia may be excited to be with you.

Pannacotta Fugo

Purple Haze is interestingly affected by Fugo’s obsession for you. It stops obsessing over its arms, drooling minimizing to almost nothing. It’s aggression in battle nearly quadruples, out of getting rid of anything that Fugo considers a threat. So there’s times things may or may not get out of control or on the other end of the spectrum killing something with almost unusual precision . But it settles once knowing you’re safe, this may or may not exhaust Fugo occasionally. Under the surface Purple Haze would be pleased if you came to check on Fugo out of concern.

Giorno Giovanna

Gold Experience and Giorno are pretty much in sync almost constantly. It generally likes to express certain flowers that evidently have deep romantic meanings as a gift. It’ll daze you in a heartbeat if you try to sneak off somewhere, giving way to its stand master taking care of you for a few hours. Generally it seems to enjoy kissing your hand, and occasionally turning an object into a small animal for you. It doesn’t hesitate to turn something that you own into an animal to track down either if it means being in your presence again.

Aromatherapy is another thing it seems to do with plants, especially after Giorno figures out what your likes, dislikes, (and potential allergies) are.

Requiem is basically game over for any escape attempts with a stand, and even if you’re hesitant takes some effort to try and comfort you. Caresses and touches that would be comforting in a normal context that’s not having you run in terror from a mafioso.

Diavolo

Due to his violent tendencies and tactics, King Crimson is intense in presenting Diavolo’s dark desires. It’s touches are tight and unbelievably strong, that it tends to leave bruises on your body. Erasing time is smooth and precise, inducing confusion from trying to escape Diavolo. The stand is of course as impulsive as it’s stand master, your legs are broken or are knocked out as quick as your thoughts to wander.

Trish Una

Spice Girl has some impulsive traits that King Crimson does, as much as Trish probably doesn’t want to admit it. This stands intensity shines through sitting on your lap, arms around your neck. Not caring in the slightest if you can see it or not. It gives faint phantom kisses on your cheeks, and certainly uses its abilities to keep you in place no matter the area. It tends to also enjoy having you match Trish someway, even the smallest accessory it enjoys seeing Trish put on you to coordinate. Like you and her were meant to be.

[timeslugarts]

Hellooooo I just saw that you’re taking HH requestsssss!!! Also I hope you’re having an amazing dayyyy!! (Also take your time, no rush here hun)

Ok so a Lucifer x (f) reader where she and a few of her performance group get invited to do a dance for the king of hell himself and many others at a party with some of the most important figures of hell. The reader, while performing, catches Lucifer’s eye and so after the group performs Lucifer FINALLYY gains the courage to speak with her and appreciate her talent.

If you can do this that would be greatttt!!! ♡♡

Ahahaha! I did it! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you'll enjoy reading it 💖

LUCIFER X PERFORMER READER

Your nerves were singing, this might be the biggest performance of your whole career here in Hell. The Lucifer, King of Hell, big boss on campus, asked for your group to dance at his gala personally. This could be everything, the thing to bring your group to the next level.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, you needed to make sure everything was perfect. You were fidgeting with your bottles, and palettes, making sure your makeup was perfect. Adding extra glitter to make sure you stood out and sparkled on stage.

"Alright ladies, it's time to go, break a leg everyone!" Your manager announced to the group of you. Taking a slow steadying breath you stood up. Time to go.

Lucifer sat on his throne at the far back of the ballroom, Asmodeus and him deep in conversation, just trying to catch up since he's been away for so long. It was nice seeing Ozzie again, he was always one of Lucifer's favorites and they fell right back into the rhythm of things.

"So have you been looking for any fresh meat since Lil's been gone?" Ozzie said, wiggling his brows, Lucifer blushed.

"Wha… I, no-" Lucifer stammered, he really hadn't thought about anyone like that in a long time.

"Oh come on your highness," Ozzie said with a grin, "you have to get your tail wet at some point, it's not good to be hung up over the same woman for the rest of your life."

He sighed, "yeah I know, it's just-"

Your performance had begun.

You had stepped out center stage to a single spotlight and begun to move your body to the rhythm. Lucifer was starstruck, he had frozen mid sentence, enraptured by your beauty and grace. Ozzie noticed too, he raised an eyebrow at his demon lord, grin growing ever wider.

The rest of your group had joined you on stage as the music came to a crescendo. All of you moving in time, bodies sweaty adding extra shine to the already copious amounts of glitter.

Lucifer still hadn't moved, Ozzie wasn't even sure he'd blinked, growing a little concerned he waved a hand in front of his face. Lucifer reached out and held his wrist tight to stop it from moving, it was an automatic reaction, like a robot. Lucifer held Ozzie's wrist for the whole rest of the performance.

Once your group had finished, taking a bow as everyone clapped, Ozzie leaned over and whispered, "you know I can get you her number if you want?"

"I, what?" Lucifer had snapped back to reality all at once, dropping Ozzie's wrist instantly. He was so stoopified by your dance that he hadn't even realized what he'd done.

"Yeah, they perform for me in the Lust Ring all the time," Ozzie leaned even closer, brow cocked, "who do you think suggested they perform tonight?" He grinned at his easily flustered boss, noticing the pink dusting his cheeks. The King of Hell was such a baby sometimes. "Or… I could introduce you?"

"I think I… have to go." Lucifer rose from his throne and dashed away in a panic hearing Asmodeus' laughter the whole way.

He was in a quiet hallway far from the rest of the crowd, his heart was hammering in his chest, his blood felt thick. He hasn't had that sort of immediate reaction to anyone since he saw Lillith in the garden. He placed a hand to the wall to steady himself, his knees wobbled a little.

"Are you ok?" Lucifer whipped around, and just his luck, there you were. You had changed out of your dance outfit and were wearing something more casual. Glitter still stuck to your face and hair though. He wanted to reach out and brush it away.

Instead he rubbed his hands together and noticed how sweaty they had gotten.

"Y-yeah, I'm… I'm ok." He chuckled weakly. God he was making such an ass of himself.

"Oh my god, you're Lucifer." You had looked starstruck. "Thank you so much for letting us perform here for you, it was such an honor." You bowed before him a shy smile gracing your features.

"No no, don't… don't do that." He said taking your shoulders and correcting your posture. "You were truly an experience, I'm the one who should be honored."

His charming smile lit your cheeks on fire, not to mention his hands still lingering on your shoulders. You couldn't believe how kind Lucifer was being, you could feel the butterflies in your chest.

"Th- thank you so much, that truly means a lot." You smiled gently his way.

It was his turn to blush, quickly taking his hands back and rubbing them together anxiously, when had they become so sweaty?

"Would… would you like to go to dinner sometime?"

What.

You stared, wide eyed, mouth open. He looked so shy, his eyes were avoiding yours at all costs. You giggled causing him to perk up.

"Of course, I would love to." You smiled.

"So, tomorrow at 8?" He was so suddenly very excited, he did it, asked you out and better yet, you said yes!

"Perfect!" You were grinning ear to ear matching his enthusiasm.

"I'll see you then!" He gave your shoulder a warm squeeze and promptly exited the gala.

Lucifer was standing on the sidewalk outside of the building when he realized that in all his excitement he didn't ask you for your number, he had no way of contacting you.

"Shit." He mumbled as he made his way back inside.

[angel-kyo]

Okay, so it's probably just too late to get it out of my head now. I think I am obsessed with writing him obliviously obsessed.

Warnings: Mentions of obsessive/stalkerish behavior and invasion of privacy.

I guess this is a second part to this: Part I

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ObsessedSatoru who randomly passes by your house on the days and the hours he knows you should be there. He tells himself he just cares about you and wants to make sure you made it home and the lights are on.

ObsessedSatoru who wonders if you are okay when you fail to attend the bakery one Friday. "I just wanted something sweet before starting the weekend", you had told him once, and he couldn't agree more. Seeing you was sweet for him too. Since that day, it had become some sort of tradition meeting you there on Fridays. Why would you not show up? This changes the script a bit, he thought.

ObsessedSatoru whose first thought is that you may be still at work but changes his mind after making a quick call to your workplace and having no one pick up. So they are closed already? Any other day he had wanted to check, he had called and spoken a few words to the receptionist. 'A nice woman', you had told him once, 'she won't leave until all of us have left the office.'

ObsessedSatoru who decides to check your home in case you had headed there earlier. Confusion, disappointment and worry, exactly in that order, bloomed in his head when he saw the lights off. A quick inspection inside confirmed you were indeed not there.

ObsessedSatoru who has memorized your weekly schedule as well as his own. He knew you were free that night and had planned for the two of you to not so casually meet after work. He would then have persuaded you into grabbing dinner with him and asked you to go out the following day on a 'friendly date' to try a new coffee shop, nothing out of the ordinary, although he was actually planning for something a bit more elaborate than just coffee this time.

ObsessedSatoru who calls you to ask if you are free for dinner right now. A direct call had not been part of his plan. He knew you were most likely to agree if spoken with in person, but he figured it was the fastest way to reach you.

ObsessedSatoru who frowns lightly at you not picking up. Were you busy? With what? Not at work, not at home and he was sure you had no plans for tonight. You had his number and would usually pick up quick enough. Had you ignored him? No, he didn't want to think like that. Maybe lost your phone? He wanted to call again, but wouldn't that be too pushy? No, he was your friend, so it should be okay, right?

ObsessedSatoru whose mood lightened when you call him instead. "Satoru? Sorry, for not picking up before." He could almost hear your apologetic smile. "Is everything okay?"

"Are you home yet?" Maybe he was being too forward, but wasn't he always? And his tone was as friendly as it had always been with you. Still, he felt funny asking such a question in the middle of your living room. He knew you were not home. "If you're free, do you want to grab dinner?"

You went silent for a bit, and he heard some voices in the background. Maybe you were busy after all.

He was going to ask you where you were, but you spoke sooner. "Sorry, we went out for dinner with some colleagues. Maybe..."

"What about tomorrow?", he interrupted. He could still save his plan.

You were hesitating. This is what he feared. "Sure, we can do something tomorrow."

Score. If you could only see the smile you put on his face.

ObsessedSatoru who ponders whether or not he should come back to your house later while eating his dinner alone. 'We went out for dinner with some colleagues.' He didn't know much about the people you worked with. Maybe he should fix that. Just for safety. You can never know these days, right?

ObsessedSatoru who decided to check on you and smiles when he sees you entering your home from afar. You are okay, so he can go to sleep soundly now.

ObsessedSatoru who plans one of the most exhausting 'dates' you have ever been on. 'What should we do next?', he kept saying, coming up with more things to do every hour just because he did not want your time together to end. Not that he would admit that though.

ObsessedSatoru who invites you to his place after the rain caught you at the festival where he had taken you. Contrary to what you may have thought, he keeps a neat apartment. "So neat that it is almost as if you didn't live here", you had said with a smile. He took it as a compliment.

ObsessedSatoru who laughs it off when you mention you buy the same shower gel as him after using his bathroom. What a coincidence that he also seems to like the same brand of coffee as you, no? "Great minds think alike", he grins as he pours your cup. If you looked through in his fridge and cabinets, you would probably find more 'coincidences'. Right, maybe his most recent grocery lists had been slightly inspired by his findings in your home. But he liked you, in the friendliest of ways, of course. What could be wrong with wanting to try the same things you seemed to like?

ObsessedSatoru who thinks there is only one thing in the whole apartment he doesn't want you to see: the bottle of perfume in the drawer of his nightstand. It was the same you wore almost every day. The same you were wearing when he met you and the same you had worn today. He had bought it on a whim a few weeks ago, when he passed by a store and suddenly thought he had smelled you. A silly buy, nothing more, but he knew that could make you raise an eyebrow.

ObsessedSatoru who keeps his eyes on you without realizing he is staring and blushes lightly when you put your cup of coffee down and speak in the most serious tone "You have been staring. Are you obsessed with me or something?" Your expression immediately changes when his eyes widen. You laugh at his reaction.

ObsessedSatoru who laughs too, but maybe he is being completely sincere when he replies "How could I not be?"

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Call Me When You Get Home - Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: I decided to try my hand at writing based on prompts from these lists: one / two and my favourite characters from Top Gun: Maverick, so, here's the first one from my works list.

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

prompt: no. 7 - "call me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.”

warnings/content: alludes to some spiciness, unlucky in relationships, ends in fluff. mild swearing.

word count: 1.9k

You’d never been one for relationships. You’d grown sick of broken hearts and forced apologies, and constant letdowns, and at this point in your life, you didn’t want to waste any more time being unhappy or anxious or scared that at any moment, the one thing you’d grown to rely on being there could be taken from you without warning. You were tired of the constant back and forth on holidays to visit family members neither of you could stand, and who frankly, couldn’t stand you either. You were sick of the way that everyone put relationships up on a pedestal, to be coveted and desired more than anything else in life. You were over it all, and you had convinced yourself it was for your own good, that it was better this way. 

That was, until you met him.

Lieutenant Jake Seresin had wandered into your life last fall. You’d been home to attend your aunt Penny’s wedding, her having finally gotten married to Captain Pete Mitchell, after several years of back and forth between them. At first glance, Jake was exactly the type of guy you’d go for - he was single, and preferred it that way. He never wanted to be tied down or have someone waiting for him at home - he claimed it was just “who he was”, but you knew there was more to it than that - he was afraid of the same things you were, in a sense. In Jake’s mind, if he had no one waiting for him at home, then he’d never have to worry about there being that chance of him not coming home from a mission. He wouldn’t have to worry about leaving someone behind, and that was just easier for him and his life as a Naval Air Force pilot. 

However, your cousin Amelia and your new uncle had different plans in mind. They saw the two of you as one in the same - you were both running and hiding from the same thing, in a sense. You refused to fall in love out of fear of someone getting hurt. They had “accidentally” seated the two of you at the same table at the wedding, side by side. Jake had been drinking a beer while you sipped a vodka-cran, the same one you’d been nursing for the previous hour since cocktails were served before the reception. His tall, tanned figure looked like heaven in his white dress uniform, his blonde hair gelled upwards slightly in the front, trimmed and neat in the back. He was gorgeous, and boy, did he know it. 

After countless drinks shared between the two of you (and you were eternally grateful that night for Captain Mitchell’s deep pockets and the idea of an open bar), a brief fling in the back of Jake’s truck, and an exchanging of phone numbers over coffee the next morning as you both sobered up, you’d found yourself wondering if, maybe, just maybe, you could be open to something with him - not a relationship, but an agreement of sorts. No dates to speak of, no pressure to label things, and no timelines forcing either of you to do anything - just, enjoying each other’s company on your own terms, without the awkward “I love yous” and breakups that you were used to, and without Jake’s fear of having someone be left behind if anything were to happen to him. Just...more than friends. 

It was a few months into your arrangement of “more than friends” the first time he said it. You were surprised it was Jake who said it first - you’d never thought of him as being the caring, thoughtful type, he’d always been so laidback and carefree, with a hint of arrogance to him and his teasing, that it completely caught you off guard when he said it after a night spent at his apartment off base. 

“Hey, just, you know…call me when you get home, ok? So I know you made it home safe?” he’d said.

His soft smile and the kind look in his green eyes, his hand resting on the door frame as he looked at you, standing there in a tight fitted white t-shirt and his sweatpants as he said goodbye to you before you headed back to your house that morning. Any other time, he would have just given you the same, standard, “I’ll text you later.” or a basic “I’ll call you, yeah?”. Normally, him saying he wanted to know you made it home safe would have sent you running - you knew what it meant, or at the very least, what it could lead to, and you didn’t want anything ruining what you  and Jake had together, even if it wasn’t supposed to be anything in particular.

The second time, you said it to him, and as you said it, you knew you were doomed. Doomed to be headed down that pathway of boyfriend and girlfriend, only to almost certainly be heartbroken in a few months when he decided that it wasn’t you, it was him, or that he’d met someone else. 

When you said it this time, Jake had been on his way back to the base for a mission last minute. He’d grumbled when his phone went off, interrupting a moment between the two of you, and you knew almost instantly what that meant - he’d be gone for an indefinite amount of time, and you’d see him when you saw him. He could be gone for a week like the last mission, or for months, depending on what it was and how long it would take to complete. It was always classified, and he never really had details until he was already in the middle of it. 

“Call me when you’re home, so I know you’re safe, ok, Jake?” You’d said, your voice low and soft, almost in a whisper as the words escaped your lips.

Jake frowned as he went to respond, almost looking as if he was at a loss for words, which was never like him. Instead, he sighed and nodded his head before heading out the door. A few weeks later, you’d gotten his phone call. 

“Can we talk about something?” he’d said, his normally overly self-confident tone was now quiet, and almost shy, like he was afraid to have this conversation with you. 

“Of course we can. Are you alright?” You’d asked as you absent-mindedly chewed on your bottom lip, anxiously running through all the different possible scenarios that could come from this.

“I’m fine, I promise, just…come over, please?” 

Within 15 minutes, you were on his doorstep, waiting for him to answer. He looked exhausted, his five o’clock shadow was evident, the sign of him not having been home long enough to even shave or shower since he got in. That was your first clue that it was something serious.  Your next clue was when, instead of making a comment about how your ass looked in your jeans or how your shirt would look better on his bedroom floor, he gave you a hug. Jake was never a hugger - by all accounts from his friends and your own observations over the last half a year up to this stage, you’d never seen him hug anyone before, not even once. Usually the best anyone got out of Jake Seresin was a firm handshake and his million dollar grin. But this time, this time you’d gotten a full-fledged bear hug when he saw you - his arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you in for a passionate embrace, as if he’d gone years without seeing you and finally found you again. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Jake? You’re…you’re kind of worrying me.” You’d laughed as you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Right, that.” He’d begun, biting at the inside of his cheek as he mulled over the words he wanted to say, “I…don’t think our agreement is working out between us.”

You felt your cheeks turn hot and red, tears beginning to sting your eyes. Despite the boundaries in place, you fell for him, hard. You’d never tell him, and you didn’t even realize it yourself before now, but as he said that - those words you’d been trying so hard to avoid with him, you knew. You knew he’d reeled you in and there was no escaping it now. You were about to get heartbroken, again.

“Oh?” You kept your response cold and indifferent as you tried to mask your feelings as best as you could.

“Before you get upset with me, hear me out,” he started, holding his hand up to gesture for you to wait for him to collect his thoughts.

“Why, so you can give me the same old “it’s not you, it’s me” speech? So you can tell me how you’ve met someone else?” 

“No,” he said calmly, letting out a deep breath. 

“I don’t think it’s working because I think I’ve fallen in love with you anyways.” He sighed softly, shrugging his broad shoulders as he shot you an apologetic look.

“You...you’re in love with me?” You stammered and stumbled over your words as you spit them out.

“I think so. I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time I was gone. I just kept thinking about how nice it’d be to come home and see you again. And despite how it scares the living shit out of me to think that one day I may not be able to come home to you, I also don’t want to spend the rest of our lives not telling you how I feel.” 

Without another word being spoken between you, you wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck gently and pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss. He placed his hands firmly on your waist, pulling you in towards him, his lips moving in sync with yours. After a moment, he pulled away, his signature grin now back on his face.

“I’m going to take that as a “I love you too, Jake”?”, he smirked as he brushed a piece of your hair back off your forehead. 

“Just shut up and kiss me again, Lieutenant.”

Now, nearly 6 months into officially dating, you found yourselves constantly reminding each other just how in love you were. Jake would send you texts throughout the day when he could, updating you on what was happening wherever he was at the time, and you’d respond with playful teasing. You’d make sure when he came home that his laundry was done for him, because otherwise, he’d never remember to wash it, and he’d signed into his food delivery account on your phone so you could always order whatever you felt like for dinner when he was going to be coming home. You’d cuddle on the couch watching movies together, sharing a bottle of wine as you both took the opportunity to relax and unwind together. And despite all of the domestic life you’d taken on together, you did manage to keep one boundary together.

You’d always call to let the other one know you were safe.

[vansmaybeonthewall]

reputation // are you ready for it?

prologue summary: The one where you, a somewhat well-known singer, figure out exactly how to leave your boyfriend who so happens to work as an assistant coach at West Ham.

Eventual Jamie Tartt x Reader

i was inspired to make a series by @buckychristwrites and @illiterateaffairs, who made the beautiful series' 'About You' and 'Distractions' respectively, so let's give this a go

word count: 0.7k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Folklore and Evermore are fantastic for someone like (L/N), but is it enough to top the charts?"

"While (L/N)’s storytelling and emotion come through, does she have the audience for such a piece?”

“Previous attempts at topping the charts proved difficult, country or pop, what can (L/N) do next to be number one?”

“Fans approve of the narrative, but do the numbers?”

“It’s definitely a reach releasing two albums within a year of each other. I mean how desperate can you be?

“After experimenting with an album sampling multiple genres at eighteen, is this what (L/N) is finally good at?”

~

It’s exhausting. Everything. Trying to prove yourself while also trying not to seem full of yourself. How can someone just rise to the top of the charts? How can you be good enough? Every day there were articles calling you names and how much of a failure you are and could be. The bad always outweighed the good things people had to say. How can you make someone see who you are and what you are trying to do? It’s impossible to conform to every single version of yourself that people want you to be. It doesn’t help when your boyfriend has already achieved his dream. Helping coach his favorite team. A bittersweet thing to see. His compliments that can seem backhanded at teams. You’ll get there sometime babe. Don’t worry, you’re number one to me. Humiliating coming from someone so fake and narcissistic. Oh yes, the boyfriend you have put your life on pause for, albeit being together for two years, has been cheating on you for the past 3 months. Utterly humiliating.

It only gets worse considering he took over the job of managing you and where you play as an artist. It gave him some sort of promotion of rank amongst the other coaches. Nobody really recognized you at the football events he “booked” for you. Why would these older men listen to songs about a fictional love triangle? The only ones who recognized you were the bored teenage daughters dragged along to such events.

And asking for help is out of the question. Your best friend was only so far from you, playing for A.F.C  Richmond. Phone calls and texts could be made any second of the day and you would be swooped away, but you chose not to. Colin has a busy life as you do, so it wouldn’t be right to call him about every single problem you were having, right? You were both doing what you’ve wanted to do since you were kids (one enjoying it more than the other), so why should you disrupt his life with yours?

But when you wake up the next morning with the opportunity of a lifetime, it seems like life has taken a turn for the better. 

“Babe! Babe!”

You turn towards the doorway of your writing room resting your hands in your lap from their place on the piano. Derek leans against the doorway, trying to catch his breath.

“They want you to play! At the stadium!”

What.

“What are you on about?”

“Rupert wanted to one-up that ex-wife of his and Jasmine gave the idea of getting someone popular amongst fans to perform at halftime in a game against Richmond! Fantastic isn’t it! You’ve got to thank Jasmine for this, god that woman is amazing.”

Derek disappears down the hallway still shouting at the news. You sit wide-eyed and frozen. Not only at the news, performing in front of hundreds of fans at what possibly is one of the biggest games is a huge opportunity and you should be happy about it. Well, you are, but the name that left your boyfriend’s mouth gave it a sour taste. Jasmine. The woman he kisses and loves behind your back. And the one who gave you a chance at the spotlight in two months' time. Popular amongst fans? Was she being serious or being sarcastic? Nonetheless, what the hell.

An amazing woman, you think.

You stand and make your way to the nook in the window. You stare down at the people who walk past before grabbing at the journal and sitting yourself down. Opening the journal to the page marked by a pen holding its place, you start writing down your next idea. 

reputation 

You drag the pen quickly on the page leaving a straight line underneath the word, a smirk making its way to your face.

[thebellearchives]

i swear you're getting almost exclusively solomon prompt requests and i wish i could say im different but im not. i AM like the other girls (gender neutral). im sorry.

anyway i'd love to see number 26 "I want to move in with you" with sol, if it's not been requested already! i am in love with how you write him like actually.

congrats on the follower milestone, you totally deserve it omg!!

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

~ solomon ; obey me [nightbringer]

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : when you and Solomon arrive to your new place you reveal something that will give him hope for the future

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!mc, fluff, solomon’s crushing on mc ~

‧₊˚ a / n : bestie I AM LIKE THE OTHER GIRLS TOO Solomon was the character with more entries in my masterlist even before the requests 😵‍💫 thank you for the kind words too!

this was SO hard for me to write, i just couldn’t come up with an scenario for this prompt that wasn’t like the one in Domesticity since it’s basically the same prompt, so i came up with this! it’s not exactly mc proposing the idea to Solomon but if that’s what you’re looking for you can check Domesticity ~

Two pairs of footsteps stopped right in front of Cocytus Hall’s frontal walkway. Solomon’s eyes studied the huge residential mansion, too big for even a family like the brothers. You were standing right next to him, your surprised expression and the curious undertones of your gaze made his heartbeat quicken.

All sorts of thoughts flooded his mind: laughing and snacking in the main living room, casually chatting about the day as you folded laundry together and carrying it back upstairs, maybe dancing in the kitchen before dinner and constant calls to let you know he was coming home.

“I hope you’re okay with coming here...” he cleared his throat, trying his best not to look too nervous “I know Diavolo didn’t really ask for your opinion in the matter, and you’re so used to living in the House of Lamentation…”

“No, it’s okay. This is okay.” you looked up at him with those eyes, those adorable eyes that could bring the strongest sorcerer down to his knees, and that smile, that lovely smile…

“Really?” a small spark of something unknown faintly flickered in his chest.

“Yeah… to be fair, i’ve always wanted to move in with you.”

No other words could’ve ever taken him by surprise like those did. He was sure he was staring at you like an idiot, and he was thankful you were now inspecting the building once again because he had to force his jaw to shut close.

“Really?” he repeated, for an instant it felt like he had ran out of words, his brain ran through every single word of the dictionary in every single language he had ever learned in his life and yet he couldn’t quite find himself speaking any other word.

“Yes” you chuckled, eyes once again resting on him as you turned his way “I thought about it during those times where I’d visit you at purgatory hall for magic lessons. Everything would’ve been so much calmer and easy going, and having you right there to keep teaching me? It would’ve been perfect. It didn’t happen back in our timeline, but I’m happy there’s a place and time where we can find somewhere to make our home.”

Home was a difficult word for someone like him to fully comprehend, specially when it referred to such a huge place, but he figured that as long as you were there with him any place could be home.

“Yes” he inhaled with a smile, finally being able to recognize that spark in his chest was hope, hope that maybe this was going to be the time and place where he’d finally win your heart “home.”

[sharkneto]

Life's been crazy busy, but it's been too long since I shared any writing. Some WIP sharing has been going around, so I'll jump on the bandwagon. It's not a WIP, actually (I lied), but it is a "deleted scene" of sorts from my fic Holding It Together. To set the scene, the Hargreeves are killing time while the Fives (+Sarah) are working to figure out where Five's math went wrong---

“—that doesn’t even make sense. No, I’m right,” Diego complains, frowning at Klaus next to him at the counter. Viktor shrugs, exchanging a glance with Allison beside him as they lean against a cupboard. Movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention and he spots Number starting to step into the kitchen, see they’re in the middle of an argument, and retreat.

Klaus catches him, too. “Number, Number, Number!” he calls, waving his hands for their not-brother to join them, leaning precariously off his stool. Luther shifts in his chair at the table, an aborted move to catch him if he fell off. 

It’s a long second as they watch Number decide if he wants to get in the middle of their discussion. Klaus keeps waving his hand, smile plastered on his face. Number sighs and enters, slipping past Allison and Viktor to get to the sink. His attention pauses at the beers they’re all nursing, a pointed noting of each one they’re holding, before he makes it to the corner to get a glass out of the cupboard to fill with water. “What,” he says, wary.

“Perfect timing,” Klaus says. “Important question for you.”

Number finishes filling his glass and turns to face them all. He raises one unimpressed eyebrow. Viktor smiles at the familiar expression.

“If you were an animal, what animal would you be?”

Number blinks, as if waiting for there to be more. Then he asks, “What?”

“If you were an animal, what you would be?” Klaus repeats. He folds his hands in front of him to wait patiently.

Number’s face twitches. “What animal would I be.”

“Yes! Like, like, like, me,” Klaus splays his hands against his chest, “I’m a flamingo.”

“A… flamingo.” His voice is so flat.

“Yes! One of those ones in gardens.”

“Made of plastic?”

“Yes! I’m eternal.”

Number’s expression pinches as he processes that, but it’s fond.

Klaus waves a hand at him again. “Now it’s your turn.”

He considers them all, back to unimpressed, before he says, “No.”

“No?” Klaus starts to pout, exaggerated and off-putting.

“No,” Number repeats. He starts to move towards the door. “This is so stupid. This is really what you’re all in here arguing about? We’re in the other room trying to fix time and space and you’re talking about animals?”

Viktor shrugs again, an idea to get Number to play forming. “Diego is a wolf, according to him.”

“I am a wolf!” Diego defends.

They ignore him. Viktor continues, nonchalant as he can while cornering Number, “And that’s exactly what Five said, too.”

Number stiffens. “You asked him?”

“Yeah, when he came through a little bit ago. He said this was stupid and wasn’t going to do it, either.”

His jaw shifts. His gaze flicks to the door. His shoulders slump slightly. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh, but he stays, leaning back on the sink again. Viktor tries to clamp down on his smile, the corner of his mouth still twitching up. Luther catches his eye and raises an eyebrow – he’s impressed. Viktor’s lips curl more.

It’s quiet for a long second.

“Well?” Allison asks.

“I have to think of a goddamn animal,” Number complains, focus on the middle of the floor while he thinks, one hand in his pocket while the other holds his forgotten water glass.

The siblings exchange a smile – Number might think it’s stupid, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to give a stupid answer. It’s very Five.

Viktor is pleased with himself. He knew that would work. Five actually had played along after similar grumbling, although he’d had a quicker response (“Fine, I’ll play. Uhh… A cockroach, I’d be a cockroach. There. Happy? I have math to do.”) and left before they could talk to him about it. They’d moved on to Diego rather than sit in the weight of that answer.

Diego leans to Klaus and Viktor only hears his whispered, “Bet he picks the same thing as the old man?” thanks to his super-hearing. Klaus frowns minutely and shakes his head.

“Twenty bucks he picks something else,” he whispers back. They quietly shake on it.

Viktor smiles to himself – he’s pretty sure neither of them currently has twenty bucks. They’re all strapped for cash and are relying heavily on the Walters’ generosity.

After a minute of thought and when the siblings are starting to get impatient, Number announces, “Crow.”

There’s another flurry of exchanged looks – none of them had expected that.

“A crow?” Luther asks.

“Yep. Good?” He starts to leave again.

“Why?” Diego asks.

Number stops again. “Crow. They’re smart, problem solvers, inquisitive, ingenious. Good memory, they hold grudges. It fits.” He shrugs. Because he’s a Five, he doesn’t try to play off any of his explanation with a humble smile or laugh. He means it. The only hint of self-deprecation he has for any of this is around that he’s playing the game with them, although they can tell he’s pleased with his answer.

Klaus tilts his head, considering the answer. “They’re really family-oriented, too, aren’t they. With their murders.”

Number’s expression blanks as the siblings start to grin.

“Crow does fit, then,” Diego teases.

“Are we your murder, Numerino?” Klaus asks, pouting again for effect.

Number has hunched in on himself a little. “No,” he says, too defensive. “I gave you my answer, I gave you my reasons, I’m not responsible for things I didn’t know about fucking crows.”

Luther speaks up from behind Diego and Klaus, “You can just love us, Number. We love you, too. Even the us here.”

“Yeah,” Viktor adds. “It’s hard for it to not fit when we know the other you survived the literal apocalypse because he loved us so much.”

Number hunches further. His ears are just barely turning pink. He pulls on a sharp, aggressive smile. “Look. Your game is stupid, I gave you an answer, you are free to nitpick and not like it all you want. Not my problem.” He looks at them all, ending at Klaus. “And if you’re going to have a problem with anyone’s answer, it should be Klaus. A fucking flamingo? He’s obviously a raccoon. This game is idiotic but if you’re doing it, at least do it right.” And with that, he’s gone with a flash and a whumpf. They hear Sarah’s quiet greeting as he reappears in the living room.

They all sit for a second, staring at the spot Number used to be.

Then Allison leaks a small laugh. “I forgot he used to win arguments like that. I can’t believe he still does. He’s twenty-three, right?”

Luther smiles with her. “Can’t lose if the other person can’t make a counterpoint. I think the last time he did that with me was…” He trails off, smile slipping.

They all know what the last time was, seventeen years ago.

It was about time travel.

“A crow and a cockroach,” Viktor says eventually. “I wish Five had said crow, cockroach is depressing.”

“It kinda fits…” Diego says, point trailing off as they all give him a look.

Klaus asks, “Does Five know what crows are?”

“Fei had a whole bunch back in the Sparrow timeline,” Luther points out.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Klaus says, waving that away with a hand, “but does he know about crows. That they’re – what did Number say? – smart, problem solvers, inquisitive, ingenious, and murder oriented. Shit, I bet Five doesn’t know enough animals to pick a good one.”

Luther sighs. “And we know he does really know cockroaches.”

It’s an awkward beat as they all involuntarily think about how many cockroaches Five must have eaten in his life.

“We could ask…” Viktor stops as he realizes how stupid this question he’s about to ask is, but he commits anyway. “Ask if he wants to be a crow instead?”

“Ask Five if he wants his animal to be a crow instead of a cockroach for a game he already thinks is dumb. And is actually dumb,” Diego deadpans.

“He probably wouldn’t want to be a crow because Number said it, anyway,” Allison saves.

They at least can smile at one another over the Fives’ forever grudge against one another.

“Man,” Klaus sighs. “Maybe I am actually a raccoon.”

Luther glances at him. “They do have the little… hands.” He moves one of his huge hands in a pinching motion that might be supposed to evoke the tiny grabbing hands of a raccoon.

Diego gives a noncommittal shrug.

Viktor stares at them all and shakes his head, although he’s smiling. “The Fives were right, this is really stupid.”

Allison gives him a sideways look. “What else do we have to do until Five figures out how to get us home?”

“Good point.”

“So,” Klaus says, clapping his hands, “I think that brings us to dear Allison. I’m feeling… a bird for you.”

Her gaze cools as her attention snaps to him. “If you’re saying that only because of my power, I’m going to make you walk outside and stand in the snow until you think of something better.”

“It was just a starting point!”

[yanderes-galore]

Hello, May I request a Cod Cold War ask? Specifically for Weaver x reader who’s part of the zombies strike team? I can imagine that they’re quick to figure out things (as you need to be for the Easter eggs) yet tough as they need to be? If not, I guess can I request Bell x reader (Bell may be hard to write for since they’re a player created character but I figured you do something cool with it!)

-MsPlacedHero

Ps, Chase loved the cookie I gave to him saying it was from you!

I'll try Bell as I'm a bit more familiar with them! Happy he liked the cookie even if it was a long time ago. Hope you enjoy :) Bell is referred to as They/Them as you did not specify what kind of Bell you wanted.

This is mostly rambling and may be short but it was me giving my view on the character and their potential. I wanted to explore it a bit so there's no real plot.

Yandere! Bell Concept/Overview

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Mentioned self-aware behavior but not focused, General Bell thoughts, Stalking, Brainwashing, General yandere behavior, Character death, Dubious companionship.

Bell can be both interesting yet difficult to write so I will try to keep this rather general.

Bell could be difficult since their character is primarily meant for the player to insert themselves into.

They're meant to be so the player can interact with the story and feel like a part of it.

This would be difficult to try and convey, however, it opens many different possibilities.

Bell would be like a customizable yandere.

In a story you can pick and choose how you'd want Bell to be.

Bell would work even better in a "Self-Aware" story since they'd act as a host for the player and are extremely player dependent.

Your little puppet.

A reflection of you.

Overall Bell could really have any sort of yandere personality traits due to being a blank canvas.

You could see Bell as soft or someone who follows their darling like a puppy.

Maybe you could see them as a worship yandere.

Maybe you could see them as cruel, perhaps even prior to the brainwashing?

As a result, the darling is just as customizable.

You could be a part of the CIA or know Bell prior to the brainwashing.

There's a lot of potential.

The things is, how to write Bell is you'd need to be specific.

That's why I'm mostly just looking over the character.

Honestly my favorite ideas may be the Self-Aware one and Bell with a fellow CIA agent.

The Self-Aware one is self explanatory, I mentioned it before.

But the CIA agent one could also be fun to explore.

You know you shouldn't get attached or involve yourself with Bell.

They've been brainwashed with MK-ULTRA to find out info on Perseus.

That's all, afterwards they may just be tossed away.

For now they just need to be alive until the mission is finished and over.

However, Bell appears to have some sort of adoration for you one way or another.

Maybe somewhere in their memories they seem to recall you being important to them.

It's most likely a fabricated memory to coax more information out of them, but it works.

How Bell deals with such information could vary.

They may follow you around, they may be overly protective/clingy, they could be possessive, they could be any number of things.

They don't understand why you never like being around them.

Truthfully you either don't care or don't want to be attached.

Either way, Bell would want to treat you more than a "comrade".

They either see you as a close friend they "fought alongside" or maybe even a lover.

They have no idea you and Adler just need them for information.

Bell may most likely be "gotten rid of" before they become too much of a problem for you due to their obsession.

If they are a softer and more docile yandere, it feels horrible to know Adler did them in.

If they are rougher and more intense, it may feel like a relief when they're gone.

Player created characters like Bell have potential to be interesting once you have traits decided.

Unfortunately as a result I can't really assign Bell any definitive yandere behavior for them.

They seem like a puppet, a husk, meant to follow orders due to all of the brainwashing.

Regardless... a blank slate character can still have endless potential if you have a plot to work with.

No two Bell stories would be the same, essentially.

Bell is a wild card when it comes to their darling.

Which can mean they're a dangerous yandere if you think about it.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam confronts Y/N on her feelings for his brother.

Warnings: basically none but it is a little angsty. Sam playing cupid. Also Sam might be ooc- sorry

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra ,

@fablesrose , @ada--44

A/N: Hi! To start off thank you so much for all the support recently I’m truly grateful for you all and i’m so happy to say I have people who seem to enjoy my writing. But on the writing note I just wanted to acknowledge a sort of plot hole:

if you have read the series up to now you probably know that it was said Y/N has a job and kept it (just doing it basically on her laptop alone) even when she went with the boys to find their Dad. I did this because I wanted a sense of independence for her as I felt like this made sense, would she drop anything to help them yes but I also don’t think she would be so quick to give up her life since she had her own house and didn’t hunt 24/7. Now as we are a little bit further into the story I don’t think she would have this job anymore but I also don’t know how to write it into the story and i don’t think i want to write a half chapter just on it (tho this might change). So for the sake of the story you can decide why she dosnt have this writing job anymore,for me I see it as she secretly quit after the skin walker hunt because she realized where her focus needed to go and how tiring hunting full time was. I also don’t think she ever brought it up to the boys out of fear of making them feel guilty, tho they probably figured it out and didn’t say anything either.

Anyways sorry for the rant i’ll let you read this now! And Happy thanksgiving to any and all who celebrate

Word Count: 819

A fool in love

(Master list, Previous Ch, Next Ch)

“Here you go” Sam says, placing a cup of tea in front of me having picked up our drinks from some local place as we sat in the library trying to find a new hunt or any clues to where his Dad could be.

He didn’t have a third cup with him, Dean having not joined us deciding instead to go find a “lead” in a bar.

“Thanks” I mumble before bringing the hot drink to my lips.

He sits down in front of me, shuffling in his chair awkwardly. “Are you okay?” I laugh lightly at his odd movements. He clears his throat, “Yeah, I, uh…can we talk?”

“Of course” I smiled at him, my eyebrows scrunched together slightly.

“Promise you won’t get annoyed” He starts off. I laugh, “Okay? But I don’t know if I can exactly promise anything when I don’t know what you’re gonna say.”

“Just…promise” He held out his pinky to me, something he knew I took very seriously. I smile harder, linking my pinky with his, the very sacred promise now in effect. He studies my face carefully as if to see if I was really serious even with the pinky promise.

He bites the inside of his cheek going silent for a beat before finally speaking, “Why don’t you just tell Dean you love him?”

“Sam-“ I sigh, not knowing what to say. We’ve had this conversation before, years ago, where it was established that Sam knew my feelings for his brother.

“Why would I confess to someone who doesn't feel the same way?” I finally say.

“But he does!” He practically yells, getting weird looks from those who sat around us- library rules and all that. His face flushes a deep pink with embarrassment, “Why is it so hard for you to believe that someone loves you, that he loves you?

“Look where he is right now, at a bar probably getting some girl's number or even leaving with her to hook up. He clearly doesn't feel the same for me as I do him.” I explained, a little frustrated. He doesn't say anything for a while again, “I think he does that to avoid his feelings for you.”

“Yes you think but you do not know and I…” I sigh, “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Don’t you notice the way he stares at you? He couldn’t keep his hands off of you” He points out, referring to the Hook Man case. “That was for a cover” I answer simply.

“There were a lot of times where there wasn’t an excuse for a cover up, like the armchair.” The mere mention of me sitting on Dean's lap makes my face feel hot.

I don’t have anything to counter that, I mean it was just to amplify me being his girlfriend for a cover. That’s what it was.

He becomes all sassy and self assured as he speaks, “See! Deep down you know I'm right, you just don’t wanna admit it. And you know what I noticed?”

“What?” I humor him, making eye contact.

“Every time you get hurt or there’s even a little bit of concern towards you he stops hiding his feelings. It’s like suddenly no other woman exists, only you.

You have to have noticed that at least.”

I bit on my bottom lip in thought, he’s right. I can think of numerous occasions where Dean had ignored very attractive women when I was hurt or in the prospect of danger, exactly as Sam said.

No.

No.

Nope.

Dean Winchester is not in love with me, it isn’t true.

“You know a couple months back” I begin, “I forget which hunt it was. But it was only like a month of being on the road with you guys and through that whole time it hadn’t mattered the circumstance, even when we were in the middle of hunting, or where we were, either way Dean was flirting or hooking up with some girl. And every single time I would feel this…this…pang in my heart or maybe like my heart had dropped into my stomach. Which only made me feel more like a fool.

So it got to a point where I just decided, you know what, I'm gonna force myself. I'm going to pretend that I don’t have feelings for him. That it doesn't pain me to see him like that with other women.

“Did it work?” He asks me, his eyes having a certain solemn look to them.

I sigh for the upteenth time, “No. For some stupid reason I can’t stop loving your brother.” He turns his eyes down towards the table.

I try to catch his eyes, “Do you get what I’m saying?”

He looks back up at me, “Yeah. My brother’s an idiot.”

I choke on my laugh, taking a deep breath before I speak, “Maybe. Or…maybe it just isn’t meant to be.”

[rreskk]

Can you please write sub trevor x dom reader/inmate having a conjugal vist (mommy issues, readers batshit)

Hey! I love this idea but I found it difficult to come up with a tactical set of headcanons. I changed it around so Trevor was the inmate and I made the reader feed onto this motherly figure, but in a more firm and strict way. I hope you don't mind! Feel free to ask anything else.

HEADCANONS: conjugal visit with Trevor

He got arrested. It surprised you that he hadn’t of been caught earlier. How you found out? A phone-call regarding his arrest since you were his only emergency number. Why he was arrested? Not from all the grand thefts auto, not from all the meth he had cooked, not from any of his murders. He got arrested for public indecency.

 Luckily his sentence was reasonably short (maximum of a few months), but the amount of conjugal visits were short. You weren’t allowed to come visit in the first month as his behaviour was “unacceptable”, which would only mean he’s either assaulted someone, or assaulted himself.

However, you were finally aloud in the private room where he sat, legs jiggling around, body uneasy due to the withdrawal of drugs and his overall twitchiness. He sees you and immediately starts bribing you with imaginary cash to help him get out, but you raised your finger, and he went dead silent.

You started yelling, lecturing, screaming at him for being this “stupid” and “sick” man. He sat there and took it all with a bitter face. He was never a fan of disrespect but he knew you couldn’t be disrespected. So he kept his mouth shut and waited. Every once in a while he’d beg to differ until the room went quiet and you said what you wanted to say.

“It’s nice to see you too” He’d sarcastically say before rambling on about the cops and why they are such pigs, and how he wouldn’t of been arrested if they weren’t “invading” his privacy and breaking the human rights offences.

You disrupted him and asked about the phone schedules for when you could next call. He says in a week, you go get up, but he holds you back.

“Don’t go.” He’d beg a lot.

“I don’t know why I even came.” “I wanted you to come.” Trevor would hiss in a hostile but clingy tone as he’d tug you closer, forcing you to sit back down where he looked into your eyes and begged you, once again, to stay for another 5 minutes.

You could tell he was vulnerable since he spoke in this slow and deep voice that threatened to break. He’d try and talk about you and your day, hoping to form some sort of affectionate conversation where he can receive the love he “believes” to have “deserved.”

The visit ended as the guard showed you out and Trevor watched you leave, his body slumped and face riddled with misery.

Until he gets out, you could only deal with his heart-sob stories over the phone where he pleads for you to love him, expressing that boyish need of a maternal comfort.

[fastcardotmp3]

(I really wanted to have my apocalypse ronance fic done by Halloween and that's simply not happening, so have this little guy instead <3) ronance; horror filmmaker!Nancy; future fic; 1k words

Over the course of the ‘90s, a collection of unconnected but similarly themed horror movies are made and released.

Minuscule budgets and narrow theater releases, they don’t go very far at first. In fact, they don’t go anywhere for a couple of decades, only gaining traction with a DVD release and a flash in the pan of a cult following.

They aren’t sequels of each other, these movies, but they have a great deal in common to the point where in the early 2010s an online community starts connecting not just themes, but also characters whose names may not align even though their stories do, a haunted town or house or swimming pool which might as well all be the same version of Hell.

Each cover boasts a promise of fake blood and big screams but never gets across the great deal of sincerity tucked between cuts in the film strips, no, it’s up to audiences to find that.

And eventually? They do.

No one knows who N.W. Holland is, the name listed as director and writer and producer and on and on endlessly into the credits, a pseudonym from the looks of it and one which stopped being used around the new millennium if IMDb is to be trusted. They talk about them though, this mysterious figure who made four films which are considered life affirming or changing to any number of fans.

They debate gender and political affiliation and whether or not they went to film school or just figured it out on the job. They talk about the tells in their writing and try and find them in newer movies with different directors, trying to catch their mystery in the real world beyond those four films.

They seek and search and wonder and bite each other’s heads off and still all the while…

All the while Nancy Wheeler stays in the shadows.

“You have to do it.”

“No, I don’t,” she shakes her head definitively, leaning against the kitchen counter in a modest two bedroom home in central Indianapolis.

“Come on, Nance!” Robin laughs all sharp with disbelief, the sheaf of papers clutched in one hand fluttering in the wind created by her gestures. “Look at this! I mean look at it.”

“I’ve seen it,” Nancy shrugs, turns to set her mug down and give herself a refill from the carafe behind her, effectively turning her back on both Robin and this conversation.

The sound Robin makes in response is a familiar one, that sort of fond frustration when Nancy is being intentionally obtuse about something coming out in a huff of air.

“Nancy.”

“It did what it was supposed to!” Nancy says with no shortage of indignation, but she also knows, no lacking in anxious unsteadiness either. “That’s why I let you read it, because it’s— it’s a final product as-is.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true,” Robin says, gentler this time, holding those endlessly heavy pages between them like they weigh nothing.

Although, Robin has always been good at that, hasn’t she? Taking Nancy’s baggage for what it is and storing it securely and carefully on her shoulders?

Robin Buckley is a thing of wonder, the way she wormed into Nancy’s heart and life, made a cozy little home there long before Nancy herself even realized. It was like waking up, the day Nancy started to understand what they were, years behind the times as far as Robin was concerned but finally having gotten enough of the rot out of her system by way of four movies about a best friend lost too soon and the girl who failed to save her.

(The horror of the final girl, that's what the forums call it. Nancy just calls it Hawkins.)

Nancy loves her and Nancy knows her and being known in return is something she is still, twenty-five years on, learning to cope with, but it’s just.

“It’s been fifteen years since I made a movie, Robin,” she exhales, heavy as she slumps back against the counter again with her arms crossed like she’s sixteen and protecting her soft bits again. Maybe she always will be.

“It’s been fifteen hours since you wrote one,” Robin drops the screenplay on the table to her right in a punctuating smack! of a sound.

“I just had to get it out of my system,” Nancy breathes down towards her feet, even as Robin steps closer, steps into her space, steps right up in front of her, “it’s not like the others, I don’t need to say this one out loud.”

“Nance,” Robin breathes, guiding Nancy’s gaze up to meet hers with hands on her cheeks, thumbs tracing just beneath her eyes, the thin frames of her glasses. “This is the one you need to say out loud the most.”

Nancy’s eyes sting. Her arms unwrap so her hands can fall to grip at Robin’s waist.

There’s a community online who would likely agree, but it’s not their opinions which Nancy cares about in this moment. Just Robin. Just the way Robin sees it in black and white right there on the page, typed on the same typewriter she’d used on the first one in 1991.

“It’s been so long, it’s so obvious I haven’t written in so long.”

“Sure,” Robin shrugs, wiping a stray tear before it even makes it to Nancy’s cheek and smiling like there’s joy to be had here, “but that’s the point. I can see it, all that time between the last one and this one.”

“Because this one isn’t as scary?” Nancy scoffs, but Robin just holds her more firmly and leans in until their foreheads touch.

“Because in this one you forgive yourself.”

Nancy cries. She sobs, standing in the kitchen of the home she’s built with this woman, just an hour from the town where her childhood was stolen from her, but a joyful home despite it all.

She breaks down and lets herself be held on this day, because what they both know is that it’ll start tomorrow.

There is a community online that’s been searching for more stories from N.W. Holland for decades, and they’ve never found them because they didn’t exist.

One year from now, a script folded and paged through and dog eared will turn into exactly what they’re looking for, but it will take some time for them to realize.

It’s finally her story, complete in its resolution and its forgiveness, after all.

It’s only right it finally bares her name.

[rosiegirlie]

Press Your Number: John Egan x OC

word count: 4.8k a/n: I couldn't resist trying my hand at a John Egan story even though I'm nervous about it lol. As will probably be my usual this isn’t as researched / historically accurate as it should be so sorry in advance. I'm really just going off the vibes tbh ! read on AO3

The sun was setting with only the smallest bit still hanging on above the tops of the surrounding trees. It would soon be too dark for Jacqueline to continue working but luckily she’d reached a comfortable stopping point. She climbed down her ladder and stepped away from the plane to look up at her work. Oddly enough Jacqueline felt more proud of her pinup girl on the side of the plane than any of the pieces she’d shown back in Paris. 

Normally Jaqueline painted nature scenes. She hadn’t painted a person since university and had been nervous when Corporal Ken Lemmons told her what they wanted. But she had to admit that she’d done good. The painted blushing blonde looked full of life with her lips red and open in a playful pout. Jacqueline had worried whether or not the outfit was too risqué but she liked how the blue two piece swimming costume stood out against the plane’s sheet metal. It was eye catching. She hoped the men liked it just as much as she did. It still seemed like some sort of joke that she was getting to paint again. When she’d overheard Ken bemoaning having to paint designs on the planes she’d jumped at the opportunity before even introducing herself. She never thought that she’d be able to do this sort of thing when she transferred out to Thorpe Abbotts.

Jacqueline figured she still had a couple minutes of light left and climbed back up on the ladder with her paintbrush and palette in hand. The shading along the cleavage didn’t seem right no matter how many times she touched it up. She ached for proper paint but knew to keep her complaints to herself. She’d find a way to make it work, she always did. 

“Now that’s a view worth writing home about.”

The voice came from behind Jacqueline and in her surprise she jerked forward and had to stretch out her hand to brace herself against the plane to steady herself.

“Take it easy now.” The voice was louder, closer. Whoever the speaker was, he was probably right below Jacqueline. She pushed off from the plane and steadied herself on the ladder. 

“I’m good.” she assured him. After taking a breath she finally looked down. 

The man she didn’t recognize had moved up closer to the plane to get a better look at her work. A quick study of the man had Jacqueline wishing she’d met him in different circumstances when she wasn’t wearing coveralls three sizes too big, hair all tucked up into a sweat stained hat, and hands covered in paint. He was tall with broad shoulders. He was wearing a white sheepskin jacket instead of the ones every one else seemed to prefer. His hair looked thick and Jacqueline’s fingers itched to run themselves through it. She thought she saw a mustache. She needed to get a better look at him. 

“Do you like it then?” She asked, gesturing to the pinup with her head even though he wasn’t looking at her to see the gesture. Jacqueline thrived off of hearing what people thought of her art. She was greedy for any possible crumb of praise.

“She’s beautiful. Modeled off your broad back home?” 

“No, I just dreamed her up.” 

“It’s damn realistic to be something you just dreamed up, you must have practice at this sort of thing.” 

“I don’t have a lot of practice in painting half naked women, no.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” The man stepped away from the plane and Jacqueline finally got a better look at him. 

He was gorgeous. Jacqueline really wished she looked more presentable. She pushed her feelings aside and joked, “It’s the naked women we practice on, not clothed.”

“I knew it! You must be some sort of professional artist.” 

“Oh no, please.” She shook her head. “I hate that idea. If you ask me there’s no such thing as a professional artist.” She knew she should stop there but instead continued, “Art is something you engage with, a conversation with something you tap into. An artist should always be open to continual growth and learning. An artist is a student, not a professional. Or at least if they’re a proper artist they wouldn’t consider themselves a professional.” Jacqueline let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry,” She raised her free hand not holding her paintbrush and palette and scratched at something on her cheek and along her jaw. She shrugged. “You were trying to pay me a compliment, it was rude of me to ramble. Thank you.”

When Jacqueline shifted to look back at the man she immediately met his eyes causing her to blush. His eyes were wide and after a brief moment of intense eye contact left her face to trace down her body. She felt his gaze as it went down to her hands in her lap. She burned as he worked his way back up to her face. It had been a while since a man had studied her like this and she hoped it turned into something as foolish as she knew it was to want. It was like his energy had changed completely and she didn’t know why. But she didn’t mind. 

He smirked up at her, causing Jacqueline’s heart to skip a beat, and said, “It wasn’t rude no. Trust me, I love a good ol’ fashioned ramble.” He shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “I’m just realizing I was seriously misled on some key details.” 

Jacqueline did nothing but stare at him, confused. He continued before she could figure out a response. “They said your name was Jack. I didn’t realize that was a nickname.”

Instinctively she tisked, “I told them to stop calling me that, it makes me sound like a boy. I hate nicknames.” 

“If it’s not Jack then what’s your name?” He prodded. 

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” She challenged with a smile. 

“You can call me Bucky.” “Your mother named you Bucky?”

“My mother named me John but—”

“Lovely to meet you, John.” She stuck her free hand out and smiled wider when he took it in his own. “I’m Jacqueline.”

____ 

The officer’s club was full of laughter and music and men working off the restless energy that came with surviving another day. Normally Bucky would be right there with them, right in the thick of it. But he’d flown his first mission that day. He’d gone up and it hadn’t been anything like he thought. He couldn’t even remember what he thought it would be like. Bucky studied the glass in his hands. His hands had done terrible things that day, his hands were nothing like her’s. Nothing like Jacqueline. 

For some reason Bucky hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. He’d never felt like this before, focused so much in on one woman. But he kept thinking about how delicate her paint stained hands looked and the way her scratching at a wayward piece of hair on her face made him realize that she was a woman and not a man like he’d been expecting. Bucky felt ridiculous for being so worked up over a broad’s hands but here he was, a mess. It had only been a couple of days but his thoughts kept coming back to the woman he hadn’t been able to find since meeting on the hardstand. The endless meetings with Colonel Huglin and various other staff hadn’t given him the free time he wanted to search for Jacqueline but at least that afternoon he’d worked out that she wasn’t a mechanic. His mistake had been assuming that her getup had been her uniform. Now he was back to square one. 

A loud cackle broke through over the general noise of the crowd and Bucky couldn’t help but look for the source. There was a group of women by the corner of the dance floor and they looked like they were trying to contain one of them. Bucky watched and took in the view as they joked amongst themselves. The redhead, whose back had been to him, stepped out of the way and Bucky got a better look at the rest of the women in the group. Immediately his eyes jumped to the woman closest to the dance floor, the one with one hand on her hip while the other fanned at her face. She was wearing a rich blue dress that complimented her chestnut hair falling loosely around her face. He’d always liked the color blue but now he knew it was his favorite. She wasn’t wearing red lipstick like the rest of them but Bucky didn’t mind. She seemed to be entertaining her friends and making them laugh; he could tell from all the way across the room that she’d be the life of the party by his side. She was beautiful and Bucky needed to talk to her, needed to dance with her. Anything at all. He was a man starved.

But before he could make a move Lieutenant McDaniel was by his side and Bucky knew he was trapped. By the time he managed to get away from the conversation he’d lost her. Bucky kept his eyes peeled as the night went on, always looking over his shoulder. He’d catch glimpses but then she’d be gone before he could reach her. He couldn’t focus. He blamed his poor darts performance on the booze and joked that he’d come back around once he cleared his head. He wandered back over to the bar defeated. First he’d lost Jacquline and now he’d lost this mystery woman. If any of his guys found out he’d let them slip through his fingers they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Bucky’s reputation would never recover. He needed to pull himself together. He downed the last of his drink in one go and asked for another. As he waited for his drink he turned to lean against the bar top and look out over the room. His heart skipped a beat. 

There she was in the middle of a group of women settling down around a table across the hall. She sat down in the seat against the wall, the only one facing him directly. A wave of desire rushed over him, an overwhelming sense of longing that had Bucky feeling like a kid with his first crush. 

“Major.”

Bucky turned around and accepted the drink the bartender was offering him. “Thanks.” He lifted the glass in a cheers motion then turned back around with his eyes immediately going back to the woman. 

Something one of the girls said made her throw her head back in laughter again and Bucky instantly felt himself smiling along with her. The woman was a vision; Bucky wanted to have his way with her. She grabbed her hair all in one hand and pulled it up and away from her face. She fanned herself with the other, still laughing with her friends. When she pulled her hair back the woman had exposed the side of her face and neck so Bucky could now take in her full profile. He almost dropped his drink when he realized he knew that jawline. It was Jacqueline. He’d been eyeing Jacqueline all night and didn’t even realize. He could practically hear Buck in his ear teasing him for being such a fool. 

Without thinking Bucky set his drink on the bar and headed straight for Jacqueline. One of her friends, the redhead, saw him first and elbowed Jacqueline in the side to get her attention. John felt something settle in him when she met his eyes; it felt so right to have her looking at him. He’d always loved attention but never had it hit so right than now. 

“Jacqueline.”

“John.”

He reached out a hand. “Dance with me, doll?” 

“Doll?” she cocked an eyebrow at the endearment but before Bucky could worry about being turned down she was pushing her chair out from the table and standing up. “I can’t promise I’m a good dance partner. I’ll probably step on your toes.”

“A worthy sacrifice to have you in my arms.” He pulled her onto the dance floor and twirled her around, smiling when she giggled as she spun. 

“Smooth talker, are you?” Jaqueline said as she settled into his arms and followed his lead as they started to dance. 

“I’m whatever I need to be when the situation calls.” he boasted.

Jacqueline laughed. “Spoken like a real American.” 

Bucky looked down at her confused but defensive. “What’s wrong with speaking like an American?”

“Nothing at all! Just that you lot tend to act before thinking and seem to think you can handle everything on your own.” 

Bucky was quick to heat with anger but took a second to consider what she’d said. “Where are you from, then? Because your accent sounds an awful lot like mine.” 

“Alright, you got me.” Jacqueline winked at Bucky like she was letting him on a secret. “I’m a Yank like you.” 

“Do you not consider yourself American?” He watched Jacqueline chew on her lip while thinking how to answer. Now that he had her up close Bucky was grateful Jacqueline had forgone the red lipstick for something closer to her natural lip color. He was having a hard enough time keeping his cool as it was. if her full lips were fully painted up Bucky wasn’t sure he had the self control to stay respectable.

“I spent most of my life over here.” She finally answered. “I can’t even remember the last time I was in the States.” she took another moment to think. “It was probably when my mother passed. No, it can’t have been that long, I had to have been back since then. But maybe… no. Hmm… Wow.” she blushed, probably embarrassed at her rambling, and shook her head. “I guess I haven’t been back in nine years? Almost ten.” 

“That’s a long time to be away from home.” 

“Not if it never felt like home to begin with.” Jacqueline said with an unbothered shrug. 

“I can’t wait to figure you out.” Bucky said without thinking first. He quickly turned to look away from Jacqueline to hide his face in case he really was blushing like he felt. 

“It’s still early days.” Jacqueline mused. “We’ve got time.” 

The song ended and the pair separated to join in the applause for the band. A slower song started up and Bucky was quick to pull Jacqueline back against him before she could escape. She didn’t resist him and settled into his arms, leaning her head on his chest. The thing that had settled into him before dug itself deeper. He hadn’t felt like this since his first days learning to fly. 

They danced without talking for a while until Bucky leaned down close to Jacqueline’s ear and whispered, “I looked for you, you know.” 

“You looked for me?” she pulled slightly away stared at him with a look of bewilderment. “What do you mean? Why?” 

“Because I wanted to see you.” he said honestly. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

Jacqueline mouth dropped open in surprise. She seemed to be lost for words and Bucky loved that. He loved throwing people off their game. He stared at her mouth and took note of the slight smudge of pale lipstick on the corner of her mouth. He wanted to kiss it. He cleared his throat and pushed down his instincts that were begging him to wrap Jacqueline fully in his arms and give into all temptation. He was going to take a page from Buck’s book and be a gentleman about this. 

_____

Jacqueline was already at the bar when the Major came through the doors. A couple of cheers went up at his entrance and she couldn’t help but smile into her drink at the reaction. She loved the theatrics. But she’d done her research and she couldn’t believe she’d been so informal around someone with such a high rank. It didn’t make her want him any less, but it did intensify her nerves. Rank implied status and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get back into the world of status. She watched as he wove his way through the crowd. He didn’t stop talking for a second. Jacqueline wasn’t sure why she was so endeared by his working the room. 

The couple next to her left the bar leaving more than enough room for him to come up next to her. Jacqueline set her glass down on the bar and tried to straighten herself up. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him. Should she wait for him to say something first? She was awful at intentional flirting. Jacqueline glanced over her shoulder and then whipped her head back around. He was almost at the bar and Jacqueline knew he was going to come up next to her. This was it. 

But then he didn’t recognize her. Didn’t even spare her a glance. Jacqueline wanted to laugh she was so mortified but held it in. Based off of the rumors she really thought he’d at least look at her even if he didn’t start flirting. She took a deep drink of her gin and tonic as she listened to the Major order a pint and make small talk with the airman on his other side. Her body felt like it was on fire she was so hyperaware of her surroundings. She felt beyond silly for getting her hopes up that he would want to talk to her again. It had been such a brief thing; they’d barely talked. It didn’t matter how nicely she tried to put herself together, it didn’t matter how long she’d spent on her hair and makeup. Her first impression had come and gone. She’d lost her chance to blow the Major away.

“Another round? Gin and tonic, right?” The bartender asked as she finished off her drink. 

“Please. Thank you.” She said with a smile but barely met the bartender’s eyes. As soon as she had her new cocktail she slipped away from the bar and into the crowd. 

Her original plan of doing something — admittedly she hadn’t gotten far enough along to actually plan anything, she’d been counting on John to do most of the doing — was useless now so she figured to hell with it. She was going to enjoy her night with her girls. Her closest friends and coworkers, Ginny and Elizabeth, cheered when she returned to them. Jacqueline thanked her past self for not telling them about meeting the Major. She knew they would tease and end up repeating the stories that had started spreading through the base. It didn’t do her any good to think about all of the women John had slept with. Maybe it was for the best that Jacqueline was forgettable. She needed to keep thinking about him as the Major, not as John. He was just a nice man she’d met and that was that. 

An hour later and her friends were all sitting around a table, laughing at Ginny’s imitation of their old supervisor. Jacqueline pulled all of her hair back from her face, twisted it around in her hand and held it up at the back of her head. With her other hand she fanned at her face. She’d worked up a sweat dancing and her hand was doing nothing to help her cool down. Jacqueline had just made up her mind to go out and grab some air since she was so hot, maybe she’d even turn in for the night, when Elizabeth elbowed Jaqueline in the side. 

“What was—” Jacqueline’s voice broke off when she followed Elizabeth’s line of site and saw the Major walking towards them. He was looking right at her and when she met his eyes he grinned. The other girls at their table turned to see what Jacqueline and Elizabeth were staring at and the conversation had died by the time John reached their table. 

“Jacqueline.” 

She felt butterflies when he said her name. 

“John.” She replied with a smile. Then she’d taken his offered hand and followed him out to dance floor. 

She’d spent the rest of the night wrapped up in John’s orbit. Even when they weren’t dancing John had kept her close, a warm presence that Jaqueline didn’t mind despite hating the heat. Normally Jacqueline was only good at being lively and social at the beginning of the night, more often than not she would slip out early to sooth her introverted nature begging to be alone. But somehow she loved being constantly surrounded with John by her side. It was easy to maintain a smile and keep up with the jokes being thrown around with the weight of John’s arm around her waist. 

Time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye and too soon John was walking her back to her hut, the perfect gentleman despite the rumors. Jaqueline wondered if this was what flying felt like; oddly enough she felt weightless with her arm wrapped around John’s. 

“When can I see you again?” John asked when they were almost at her hut. 

“It’s a small base, I’m sure we’ll run into each other.” she said coyly. Jacqueline didn’t have a lot of experience with men but she knew with men like John she had to hold her ground. “I’m sure you could find me if you really wanted.”

“Is that a challenge?” He sounded excited, like Jacqueline had given him some sort of gift. 

“You think you can manage finding me?” 

“I’ll manage it all for you, whatever you ask.” 

John’s words were what Jacqueline had always wanted to hear from a man but she knew to be wary. “You should be careful saying things like that to a girl. She might get her hopes up.” 

“And if I want her to?”

That took Jacqueline by surprise. She spluttered, “Then you should show her you care. Talk is useless if it’s just that.” 

“Good thing I’m a man who acts.” And with that John twisted Jacqueline towards him. His hand went right to the side of her face and he cradled her jaw as he pulled her in for a kiss. 

Jacqueline didn’t even pretend to be respectable. As soon as John’s lips were on her’s she was desperate for more. She pulled her arm out from being trapped between them and wrapped it around John’s back to bring him closer. It was clear he hadn’t expected Jacqueline to escalate the kiss but he was quick to match her energy. He moved his hand into the thick of her hair and Jacqueline couldn’t hold back her moan when he tugged at it to bring her closer to him. 

Her moan seemed to snap John out of it and he ripped himself away from Jacqueline, breathing hard. He took a couple of steps back leaving Jacqueline standing there looking like some strung out floozy with slick lips and wide eyes. She figured she should be embarrassed by how scandalous she was sure to look but she couldn’t seem to care when John seemed to be just as out of sorts. They looked at each other in silence, their heavy breathing the only noise between them. And then they both started to laugh loudly into the night. John came back to Jacqueline’s side.

“I’ll come find you.” He promised with a kiss to the top of her head. Another to her forehead. 

“I’m looking forward to it, Major.” She gave him a wave before entering her hut. She waited a minute until she let out a giggle and danced around the empty hut like the teenage girl she was feeling like. 

Jacqueline spent the next day on edge waiting for John to pop up at any moment. She meant what she said: Thorpe Abbotts wasn’t a big base. There were only so many places one could hide and she wasn’t even trying to hide. But to her dismay John never showed. She felt like such a fool for getting her hopes up. Her mood the following day went from bad to worse when the forts started rolling in after the mission. Lieutenant McDaniel’s fort, the one John was flying on, hadn’t come back. John was gone.

That afternoon Jacqueline was lost in thought staring out the minuscule window. The forest around the base reminded her of the years spent in Switzerland even though the two looked nothing alike. She had been such a child back then; the world had been so big back when she was young and now Jacqueline felt so small standing in the corner of the switchboard room. She felt so naive for losing herself over a flyboy so quickly, especially one she barely knew. Her cousin had joked that Jaqueline would find herself a pilot and finally have one of those romances that inspired great art. Even her aunt had commented on the possibility of her work leading to producing something she never thought possible. But just because the first world war and her various lovers had inspired her aunt to write didn’t mean Jacqueline was the same. Jacqueline was nauseous thinking about using her heartbreak as inspiration. Maybe this was why she couldn’t consider herself a proper artist.

The sound of her coworkers arguing pulled Jacqueline from her thoughts. It was no surprise they were talking about her. Nor was it a surprise they would do so openly in front of her without care. After all the time they’d spent together the three of them didn’t hold anything back. 

“At least she got out quick.”

“Bloody hell, Ginny. That’s awful to say.” Elizabeth dropped her nail file on the ground as she looked up scandalized.

“I’m just saying!” Ginny defended herself. “You can’t tell me that the heartache would be the same if they’d been together for ages. She’s better off this way!”

Elizabeth bent down to reach under her chair. She picked up her nail file and pointed it accusingly at Ginny. “But you don’t need to say that!”

“It’s important to see the bright side!” 

“It’s also important to have more than a couple of hours to process losing someone. You of all people should know better.” Elizabeth chastised. 

Ginny’s face went red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “I was just trying to help.” She pouted, bitter that Elizabeth had poked at her sore spot.  “It’s okay, Ginny.” Jacqueline stepped away from the window and turned back around to face her friends. She gave them a weak smile in an effort to assure them but she could tell from their faces it didn’t work. 

Their office was small, enough room to maneuver around their chairs but not much beyond that. It felt as cramped as their switchboards looked. But luckily the girls knew how to make the space work, having worked together for almost two and a half years. When Jacqueline had been approached to transfer to Thorpe Abbotts until the Americans could get their crew up and running she said she’d only go if she could pick who would work underneath her. Ginny and Elizabeth hadn’t let her down and Jacqueline was beyond grateful she didn’t have to navigate this new world alone. 

She plopped down into her chair and let out a deep sigh. “You’re both right, I suppose.” 

“How’re you doing?” Elizabeth asked gently. 

Jacqueline shrugged. “As expected.” 

“I’m assuming you don’t want to get a drink with us then, after we get off?” 

“No one’s getting off anymore.” 

“Ginny!” Elizabeth, as always, was scandalized by Ginny’s comment but Jacqueline was laughing despite herself. 

“I didn’t even get off to begin with.” She confessed after she stopped giggling. 

“All that and you didn’t—”

“When would I have had the time to shag him?” Jacqueline asked with a tired sigh. “You know I haven’t seen him since.” 

Ginny was quiet for a moment but then said, “At least you snogged.” 

Jaqueline’s heart hurt as she thought about how John had looked at her when he pulled away from their kiss after he walked her back to her hut. “At least there’s that.” she sighed again. 

An alarm rang out and the girls sprung to attention. 

“I got it.” Jacqueline motioned for the other two to settle back into their chairs while she put on her headset. She connected the right wire then said, “Good afternoon, this is RAF Thorpe Abbotts. How may I direct your call?” 

____ 

He thought it was a dream at first, that made he’d hit his head at some point during the mission and was losing it. But his gut told him he recognized the voice of the operator who answered his call. He cleared his throat. 

“This is Major Egan. We’re out at—”

“John!” the voice was breathless and desperate just like he’d been dreaming. Straight out of his fantasizes and into reality. “Major, are you there?” 

Bucky cleared his throat again and said with a laugh, “Does it count as finding you if I don’t see you?” 

A loud laugh came through the phone and Bucky felt human again.