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hansolmates · 4 years

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remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae / @eerieedits for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

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“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room.

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides.

“For fuck’s sake—”

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals.

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you.

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure.

Speaking of pleasure.

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm.

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely.

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning.

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch!

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook.

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor.

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat.

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.)

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest.

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back.

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour.

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!”

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately.

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed.

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone.

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.”

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out.

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging.

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!”

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud.

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.”

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment.

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you.

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.”

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.”

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy.

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision.

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.”

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily.

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response.

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner.

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.”

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide.

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.”

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.”

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour.

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed.

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—”

“You’re deflecting.”

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.”

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.”

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?”

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely.

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand.

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—”

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.”

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.”

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?”

Fuck.

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties.

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?”

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.”

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand.

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.”

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.”

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.”

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex.

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles.

“I want to hear you say it, doll.”

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.”

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.”

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest.

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app.

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt.

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?”

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness.

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.”

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?”

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait?

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about?

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices.

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch.

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go.

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on.

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—”

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice.

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech.

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?”

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.”

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?”

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.”

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.”

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake.

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.”

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says.

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual.

“What?”

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.”

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.”

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices.

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch.

“It’s in,” you reply softly.

“Good.”

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable!

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer.

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm.

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line.

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?”

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here.

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?”

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly.

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting.

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…”

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!”

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.”

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips.

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?”

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.”

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.”

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking.

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?”

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.”

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?”

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!”

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?”

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—”

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you.

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice.

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass.

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.”

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking.

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours.

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of.

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.”

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot.

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator.

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—”

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.”

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?”

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.”

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.”

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later.

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval.

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts.

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.”

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply.

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.”

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent.

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out.

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.”

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!”

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you.

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands.

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?”

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.”

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.”

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.”

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication.

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.”

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.”

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery.

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest.

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.”

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook humor #bts fic #jungkook fic

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punkrockgirlalmighty · 2 years

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Something broke inside of Carlos and with a gasp he arched his head back, twisting a fist up into TK’s hair and pulling his head down as he craned up to connect their lips.

This was what he wanted; TK’s tongue seeking out his own, his hand curling around his hip as he pulled Carlos back against him, to swallow up the needy moans TK was letting out.

He wanted TK to latch on to the hollow at the base of his neck and leave his own mark there right next to the cross.

He wanted to be able to wear them both with pride.

They tumbled sideways onto the bed and Carlos rolled onto his back as TK straddled his hips, diving back down to keep kissing him.

A loud clanging sound from the kitchen had them snapping apart. Carlos pulled a pillow over his crotch as TK tried to fix his hair. It took them both a minute to realise no one was coming into the room.

TK laughed nervously. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted you to.” Carlos raised the pillow off of his lap to show TK what he had done to him. “See.”

“Carlos,” TK groaned. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re both leaving again in a few weeks.” TK sounded frustrated.

“Can’t we just pretend until then?” Carlos knew he wasn’t thinking entirely with his upstairs head when he said it, and that it would inevitably lead to more heart ache when their time together ended again, but he also knew he wouldn’t regret it.

TK’s eyes raked over him, pensively taking him in as he considered what Carlos was suggesting until his mouth spread into a slow grin. “Yes. Yes. Please let’s do that.”

Then he was on him again, discarding the pillow to one side so he could connect their hips and grinding down. It was like no time had passed as Carlos let the taste and smell and feel of TK on top of him overwhelm him. It wasn’t until TK was kissing down his chest, his hands climbing underneath his shirt to push it up, that a thought struck him. “Have you been with anyone else?”

TK stilled and rested his chin on Carlos’ stomach, looking up at him from beneath alluring eyelashes. “Do you really want to know that?”

Carlos thought it about it for a moment. He definitely didn’t want to have to admit to TK that he’d been with several boys since him and it would shatter every illusion he was trying to create if he pictured TK with someone else. They had the holiday to be together and he had condoms, that was good enough for him.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“Me neither,” TK said before reconnecting his lips with Carlos’ skin.

There was another crash from down the hall and Carlos groaned. “We can’t do this here.”

TK sighed and started to pull away. “My dad isn’t working tonight, he’s at home too.”

They stared at each other despondently. Carlos thought about his car but he didn’t know anywhere he could drive them that they wouldn’t risk getting caught and it was too cold for it to be fun anywhere outside. Memories from senior year flooded him and he looked at TK hopefully. “Treehouse?”

TK’s eyes lit up. “Treehouse!”

technically not wednesday yet but I am moving back to Australia tomorrow and since it is tomorrow there already here is a snippet of the 'tis the damn season fic

also the last time I moved to Aus was right before covid and I didn't get to see my family or friends for 2.5 years and it turns out I am not a fierce independent bad bitch but a bitch who very much can't survive without hugging her mama at least once every 6 months so I have been super stressed the past week and couldn't work on this fic much. I am hoping once I am settled back in Australia I will get this finished (also I am a really slow writer - like it takes me all day to write a thousand words, how people churn out 10k a week I'll never know - so it is probably going to be a while until this is done because I have written 30k and am about half way through)

So anyway , please give a very anxious and panicked girl some validation :)

#wip wednesday #tarlos fic #wip #my fic #tarlos #911 ls fic #911 lone star fic

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sidewalk-scrawls · 2 years

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Mental health posting below the cut. Some (minor) talk about suicide ideation, so skip past this post if stuff like that upsets you (Also, I’m fine, I promise!! Please don’t read this if it’ll be triggering)

So a few weeks ago, I started to get the sense that I was on the cusp of another depressive episode, and I was hoping I was wrong because a lot of times I can push it back with the right decisions. But anyway, it turns out I wasn’t wrong, and I swear it feels like the world is actively *trying* to make it worse. (This isn’t true, I know it isn’t true, but like. Everything is so bad right now from like every angle. And like I haven’t been sleeping, and I’ve been stressed out for months, and every moment it feels like the world is crumbling.) Meanwhile every time I open the news I want to either throw up or burn down a building, there’s really nothing else. And like I need a break desperately, but I just *don’t* have time to relax and regroup, and it’s making everything so much worse. I’m so fucking stressed out that I’m always like 2.5 seconds away from anger which is. Umm. Not fun! I do not enjoy being angry! But I want to lash out *so* bad, like getting unbelievably strong urges to start fights and burn down some relationships.

Which is cool and fun because this is an angle of my depression that pretty much went away when I went on antidepressants. I used to have really, really bad mood swings (we’re talking swinging from a great mood to actively suicidal in the course of like 5 minutes), and I’m *not* anywhere near that bad right now. But the fact that they’re back now after like multiple years of antidepressants is honestly kind of terrifying? Like this is the worst round of depression I think I’ve had since starting antidepressants, and I was on them during the worst of covid.

I just really don’t want to do another round of this bullshit! The mood swings played a pretty active role in the worst round of depression I’ve ever had, in which I fucked up 90% of my closest relationships to the point that they never recovered, no matter what I tried to fix them. It was umm. A very, very, very bad 6 months or so. Like I was passively thinking about suicide probably 10-20 times a day.

So yeah, I don’t particularly love that my mood right now reminds me of that (except still much milder thankfully). I also don’t love that my passive suicide ideation is back since that *also* almost entirely disappeared when I went on antidepressants. But noooo we’ve gotta bring that back, too I guess. Fuck me. Anyway, my ice tray is getting a lot of use, shout out to my freezer and my ice tray for their service.

I mean, at least there’s some dark humor that I was so optimistic about turning 27 (it’s my favorite number! it should be a good year!) only to immediately have the worst depressive episode I’ve had in years. Woo.

(Again I am okay! This is a vent post! Will I take this down almost immediately after posting? Who can say. Certainly not me.)

#oops oversharing on the internet again #it is after midnight and i'm not done with my work that's due today (yesterday now i suppose) and i'm almost too miserable to care #literally fuck everything lol

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human-do-a-worm · 3 years

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Ramblings of an Old Soldier Part 3/3

Sorry about the wait. The second dose of COVID vaccine drains you a lot more than the first dose. Anyways here’s part 3, part 1 and part 2 can be found here.

Admiral Sturm sat on the park bench as he always did. Sipping on his coffee and reading the latest news from his datapad. Once again, the Unkall boy approached him and sat beside him on the bench. He noticed that the aging Terran was wearing a strange uniform, with the image of a furred beast embroidered on the chest and upper right arm.

“Good afternoon Mr. Sturm.” “Ah, hello there son. Back for story time again?” “Yes sir. I was wondering what happened after the summit. Almost all traces of you vanished from records 8 cycles ago, and the only mentions of you after that were how the Terran Navy wanted you back.”

“Well, as I said the other day, I became a merc. My crew and I were the best. We took contracts from the Segmentum Norrus, all the way down to the Serectan Void. We didn’t work like most mercenary groups. We sought out our clients, and saw a lot of business. Everything from running escort duty on supply runs to desperate worlds, to taking down entire groups of bandits and pirates. Wherever we went, outlaws and tyrants alike feared the sight of The Wolf’s Den.”

“The Wolf’s Den? I think we heard about a group of people using that ship last cycle in our Galactic History class. Something about taking part in the Gingral war, only a few cycles ago.” “Ah yes, the Gingral war. Some of the bloodiest fighting I’ve ever seen. That was the last contract my crew and I took. We started off in a small role; mostly just escorting supply freighters to the border colonies since most of the supply lines had been cut and the colonists were starving. Our last supply run had been going well, until 6 light cruisers decloaked and opened fire. We did the best we could, but the supply freighter carrying food and civilians was destroyed in only a few minutes.”

“We could have escaped after that. Made a jump to the nearest Unkall station and gotten reinforcements, but My crew and I all knew what had to be done. We knew that the Gingral had to pay. They may have outnumbered us 6 to 1, and they may have had us outgunned, but they didn’t account for us having a mark 7 jump core. We warped around behind them and took down 2 of the light cruisers rather easily, but then we took a hit. The jump core cut out, and we were relying only on engine power.”

“But The Wolf’s Den must have survived somehow. The history logs said that it served through the entirety of the Gingral War.”

“That’s almost right. We knew that we wouldn’t be able to keep her together much longer, so we did what all Terrans do in situations like this. We became unpredictable. We gave all power to weapons and blasted the furthest ship from us, then mustered to the airlocks. We put on EVA gear and as soon as we were close enough to the next ship, we boarded.” “Wasn’t ship boarding added to the prohibited activities of War after the Terran war?” “It was, but targeting civilians has always been among the prohibited activities of War, so we were still committing a lesser infraction. We blasted open the port hangar with a plasma charge, and cleared the first room. Then we cleared the rest of the ship up to the bridge and took out the last remaining light cruiser. Changed the comms channels to the ones we had on The Wolf’s Den, then modified the IFF tag accordingly. When we arrived at the Unkall station we had just left, they demanded an explanation, so we told them what happened.” “And you weren't reprimanded?”

“Oh, we were. There was even a small tribunal held to determine if we could still fight. That’s when the call came in. Rakthis had been attacked, with only a handful of survivors. I immediately got up and started heading to my ship. The Unkall admiral demanded to know where I was going. After calmly telling him that there was now a full scale war, we had work to do. I went to the hangar and got the light cruiser repaired and ready for combat, but not before renaming it. The Wolf’s Den was never destroyed, it just became another ship.”

“What happened next?” the Unkall boy asked. “Weren’t the forces around Rakthis said to be uncounted?”

“They were, that’s why we didn’t go to Rakthis. We went to Waalon instead. Then to Rek’lon, and finally to Scrurros. Everywhere we went, we pushed back the Gingral horde. My first mate, Sarah Callingham, had family on the outer colonies back in the Vrumoid war. Saw most of them killed in front of her when their shuttle was shot down leaving atmosphere on Vrall VII. Scrurros was a tough nut to crack, and she had more crafty ideas than I did. We landed The Wolf’s Den on the uninhabited side of the planet, then bought a grav truck from one of the farmers. It was hard to weld the armor plates on it at the right angle, but mounting the lasguns and mortar was rather simple. I stood in the back, manning two of the lasguns and the mortar while she and two other soldiers were up front in the cab. We got almost to the planetary capital before we faced any resistance.”

“But the history logs said that Scrurros didn’t fall until the later end of the war.” “That’s right. We couldn’t take the planet as easily as we’d taken the others. When the first mortar hit the shield on the planetary governance center, we knew we were in for a fight. We got the truck away with only a few shots on the armor, but we were pursued by the planetary militia. One of the armored gun trucks fired their heavy las gun and took out the rear grav drive. With the back end of the truck along the ground, our speed tanked to a crawl. I was able to keep the militia back for a while by pinning them down with the lasguns, but then another shot hit us, dead center mass.”

“How bad was it? Were you alright?”

“I made it out with only a few scratches, scrapes, and bruises, but Sarah and the others up front weren't so lucky. The shot penetrated the cab and blew up at the steering linkage. Only Sarah, myself, and the one crewman in the back with me made it out of that. We ducked into a nearby building for cover, only to find that it was a school. Not wanting to put the civilians in danger, we lightly dressed Sarah’s wounds and went on into the forest surrounding the city. We came to a cave at the foot of a mountain, and made camp inside.” “Who was the other crewman that was with you? I notice that you haven’t said his name yet.”

“His name was Richard Grumman. He was the newest addition to The Wolfpack, joining us less than a cycle ago. We hadn’t had much time to get to know each other. The Militia found us in the first week, and he was shot to death on the night they raided the cave. Sarah and I managed to get away, but we were far from being safe. The next night we got a transmission from The Wolf’s Den; They had been found, and were wondering what to do. Sarah and I were at least four days away from the ship, so I made the call and told them to leave while they had the chance, to keep fighting and never forget about us.” “So you willingly stranded yourself and an injured crewmate on a hostile planet just to save your crewmates? The stories about the Terrans must be true.” “You’ll learn that those stories don’t even tell half the story if you stick on a Terran ship for even half a cycle. Anyways, there we were, just me and Sarah on Scrurros. I treated her wounds the best I could, but she wasn’t getting much better. Eventually she died, less than half a cycle into our time on that world. I retired with her body to the farmer who sold us the truck, and paid him to let me bury Sarah on his property. Much like with the freighter, the Gingral would pay. I took stock of what I had. Two lasguns, three fragmentation grenades, an energy grenade, and a plasma charge. Not nearly enough to take on the forces of the planet, but maybe enough to make it possible.”

“So what did you do? The Gingral don’t just let prisoners get away. Especially not in the middle of a war.” “Well, I couldn't just storm the Planetary Governance Center. That would accomplish nothing but my own death. Instead I went for something better. Three grids away from the Governance Center was the Defense Center. The plan was simple. Get inside, break as much stuff as I could, and hope that was enough to take down their defenses. It took me ten days to reach the capital again, and another three to figure out how to get inside. Turns out the Gringal didn’t make their roof as secure as they should have. I opened up the ventilation system and got inside. From there it was a short trip to the bunker exterior.”

“Aren’t Gingral bunkers some of the hardest to break open in the entire galaxy? How did you get inside?” “Simple; I didn’t break in; I snuck in. I kicked out the vent and got inside the bunker, then closed and locked the door behind me and smashed the controls. There were only technicians and a few soldiers inside, who were easy enough to dispatch. The harder part was accessing the communications room. Aside from the door of the bunker itself, the communications room was the most secure place in the facility. The door was half a meter thick, and barred at six points. That would prove to be a great challenge, so I left it for later. I quickly found the controls to the weapons system, and took it down. The planet was now mostly defenseless against ships in orbit and low atmosphere.”

“So you took down the guns, but how did you get in?”

“The door was too hard to get through, so I made my own instead. I went above the room and opened up the three fragmentation grenades. Terrna frag grenades use a pressure sensitive explosive to detonate, so I poured it out above the room, then placed the plasma charge on top of it. I ducked out of the room and waited for the explosion. When that charge went off, it was as if the whole planet shook. When I went in to check on the hole, the charge had only just broken through the floor. It took hours for me to get the hole wide enough for me to wriggle inside, but it was worth it. I contacted the Unkall fleet, and they were there within the week. The planet fell and I was pulled from the bunker before the food and water stores were even dented.”

“So that’s why taking Scrurros was so easy for the fleet. There wasn’t as much resistance as the planet originally had. And you were the one to take it down?”

“That’s right. After the war, I was broken. My knees were all but useless for fighting, and I could barely stand without swaying. The Unkall empire never forgot what my crew and I did. We were paid many times more than what was written in our contract, and they even got me a home right here on Unkall Prime. Now I sit here, enjoying retirement in my old age. Though the Terran lifespan is almost 50 cycles, we’re usually out of our working years after only 30 cycles. Our bodies are too old and weak to do most of the hard tasks that we normally would.”

“So what do you do now? Surely after a life like yours you want to do something just as exciting after you’re done working.”

“I mostly just read now. When you spend your life as a soldier, you miss out on so much. I never settled down and had kids, and my time for that is even drawing to a close. I did take up a few hobbies here and there, but nothing really stuck. I still work part time for the Unkall empire, training their soldiers in virtual reality simulations is about all I can do, but I’ve given the Unkall the strength to protect their planets, and given their generals and admirals the knowledge not to go on any missions they will regret. I’m happy with the contributions I’ve made in my life, and if I had the chance, I’d do it all over again. By the way, I never did catch your name.”

“My name is Ruthal Nerzak, and I’m slotted to be a soldier in the Unkall Defense Force.”

“Well Ruthal, I hope we will meet again someday.”

With that, Ruthal stopped recording and went home, finishing his final report.

A few days later, Ukall prime came under attack. A colonial independence group made numerous strikes around the city, and Ruthal had been caught outside on his way home from class. He tried to run away, but was chased by one of the insurgents down an alleyway, when suddenly two lasgun shots rang out. Ruthal though he was dead, but he slowly opened his four eyes and saw that the terrorist was dead on the ground in front of him. Looking up, he was me with a familiar face

“Thank you Mr. Sturm, I thought I was surely dead.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we’re seven grids away from the nearest shelter, and there’s enemies all around us. You said you wanted to be a soldier, well your training just started early.”

Sturm handed Ruthal the lasgun from the dead insurgent, and after showing him how to fire and teaching him how to make sure it doesn’t overheat, he led the Unkall boy out of the alley and down the street. Two blocks later, Sturm pulled the Unkall boy into an alley.

“Alright son, listen up. There’s about fifty armed and angry people between us and shelter. Our espace routes have been mostly cut off, so I need you to listen to me and listen well. When I tell you to run, you run as fast as you can. We should be able to get past most of them by taking the alleys across the street. I picked up some kit off one of these guys. The flashbang should buy us enough time to cross the street, but I’ll have to think of something after we get to our next crossing.”

Sturm threw the flashbang far into the crowd of terrorists, blinding a dozen of them and allowing them to cross the street. After seeing how many insurgents were at their crossing point, Sturm and Ruthal entered a tall residence building across from a big shootout between the insurgent and Unkall forces.

“Alright, we don’t stand a chance of crossing that. Here’s the plan. We’ll get up high, and then open fire on them. If nothing else, we’ll draw their attention away from the defense forces and allow them to break through.”

“I can’t. They’re people, just like us.” “Look around you kid. There’s men, women, and children all gunned down by these guys. I’m not sure what that makes them in Unkall society, but to us Terrans, they’re no longer people; they’re monsters. As a soldier, our job is to get rid of the monsters, so that everyone can sleep soundly at night knowing they’re safe. Taking a life isn’t something one does lightly, but it’s still something that has to be done. It’s better that we take them out, because if we don’t, who knows how many more people they’ll kill. We don’t do this because we like killing, we do this because we love the people we protect, and we’d give anything to keep them safe.”

“But I don’t want to hurt them.”

“I understand. I’m not sure if the Unkall have a saying like this, but Terrans sure do. You have a big heart. You want to keep people safe, not put them in the ground. But sometimes the best way to keep people safe is to put bad people in the ground. We’re between a rock and a hard place. If we sit here and do nothing, they will continue to hold this street, but if we can take them down, even just one or two of them, we can make them fight on two sides, which is the easiest way to break through an enemy line. I recognize a few of the soldiers I can see from up here. I trained them myself. They’ll realize what’s going on and they’ll do the heavy lifting; we just need to give them a helping hand. So, are you ready?”

The young Unkall nodded, then Sturm and Ruthal braced their lasguns on the windowsill, and opened fire on the street below. As Sturm said, the insurgents shifted their position, attempting to defend against incoming fire from two directions. As the Unkall defense forces broke the lines, a single shot came from the street and hit Sturm in the neck

Bleeding badly, Sturm stumbled back, Ruthall catching him in his arms. As he was losing his grasp on consciousness, Sturm held Ruthalls hand

“Never forget what happened here. Never forget the atrocities you saw with your own eyes, and never be afraid to rise up against the monsters who make things like this happen.”

With that, Sturm closed his eyes. Unkall security forces soon burst into the room, seeing the state of the old Terran, they gave him the best aid they could, and sent him off to the hospital, with Ruthall at his side.

After a lengthy surgery and two pints of blood, Sturm woke up in his hospital room, Ruthall asleep on his lap. Colonel Rengar, a soldier in the Unkall defense forces entered the room.

“So Admiral, I see your retirement is going well.”

“Can the crap Colonel. How many did we lose?”

“Casualties are still being counted, but even one is too many.”

“And what about the boy, Ruthall. Why is he still here?"

"His family were among those killed in the attack. We haven’t told him yet, just that we’re still looking for them.”

“So what will happen to him?”

“We don’t know. He doesn’t have any living family, and in our culture friend’s do not step in for situations like these. He will likely be left to become an adoptee for some family here, but after this, I’m not sure who would adopt him.”

“I will.”

“What? You can’t be serious. The looks he would get, especially here in the capital. I’m not sure if he can take it.”

“He knows my story. He knows that I take care of the ones I call family. He didn’t hesitate to pick up a rifle and follow me through the streets today, and he only barely hesitated to fight beside me. He’ll make a fine soldier, and he’ll make a damn good son. Get me the documents dammit.”

“Very well.”

Ruthall woke up, and was told about what happened. He didn’t take his family dying too well, but was glad that he would not be alone. The next day that school was in session, Admiral Sturm put on his old Terran uniform, and walked his son into class. It was not easy adjusting to caring for a young Unkall child, but it was a change that Sturm was happy to make. He had known what it was like to be alone, and now he could keep Ruthall from knowing that pain.

The End

Let me know if you guys want a follow up series about Sturm and Ruthall on Unkall Prime, and how they live their lives together.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #earth is space australia #humans are space australians

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artreider · 3 years

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Let's try to get this final live blog on my station 19 rewatch done. I'm currently laid up on my couch in mild pain but unable to do anything else.

I don't really like flashback episodes but i want one for the premiere since we are jumping so far ahead. I hate that this episode starts with a fight. But damn knowing what the fight is over, i love how loyal andy is to maya in this episode. Something ive wanted for her and the team. Qnd also jaina looks gorgeous.

The fire scene yay another fire on the fire show lmao. Feel like we missed some last year which im sure was covid related.

The marina scene ugh chefs kiss. I love how happy and giddy they are. I do wish we couldve gotten to see some of their month apart communication and their quarantining apart those two weeks when carina got back. I wrote a little something related to that and i may share before the premiere of season 5.

The quiet moment between carina saying her morning was better than those 6 weeks and then asking about mayas folks was a beautiful and real moment and i love it. So brief it could be overlooked but great choice for team.

The little bit of danielle and stefania that was them and adlibbed in this episode was so great also.

I love that rhey addressed how everyone was able to attend maskless and how safe the wedding was keeping the real world element in. Also vic love you and your chicken dance comment makes me sad that we didnt get it.

Vics parents trying to talk to her about theo is so cute.

Poor lawyer she'd be good for dean.

I understand some people dont come out until late in life but that is hard to hear that you havent loved the person youve been with for decades like you do this new person. That would hurt me so much to hear, like i couldve been with someone who is my great love if youd told me sooner. I love/hate this storyline for travis family.

Ugh if this fire had gone on any longer those poor kids and elderly couple.

Haha andy you should wait until someone answers the door for you when visiting almost newlyweds or people who've been seperated for 6 weeks lmao.

Also maya's excuse and none wet (shower) sex hair i love it.

Ugh sullivan trying to defend himself makes me so upset.

Bailey giving ben hell about second and third opinions is funny, like i figure shed be all for it.

Inara and marcus leaving jack is sad. I hope we still get to see marsha in season 5. Also if they do pair jack and jo itd be a bit ironic. I mean jo too had an abusive ex like inara.

Also jack and his marsha have similar eyes, itd be something if it came out she really was his mom.

I dont understand how maya hadnt settled on what to wear she's queen of the clipboard lmao. Just goes to show how some things throw us off course. Also i totally get her saying her outfit choice will define her forever. I judge my look in my wedding photos all the time and feel like other people do as well.

Why do i feel like this exchange between maya and carina was mostly adlibbed? It just feels so fun.

This poor family and ugh i couldnt imagine having to make the tough calls of firefighters/fire captains.

Love that all the fire crew helped put the wedding on.

I understand travis emotion here.

How'd this conversation about maya's folks get started with andy???

I love that maya and andy's friendship is restored. Also famous last words maya, dont speak the bad juju into existence.

Dean you shouldve spoken up there.

Why the chief there? I live in a city and the chief aint showing up for a house call that needs a few units. At least not until fire is out of they for some reason cant get it out.

Lmao maya freaking out about wearing the same thing as carina. Andy therapizing maya is funny.

That poor boy.

The dad comments to ben are beautiful. Also love that so many of the team know how dean feels about vic.

So why is travis getting dressed separately than the rest of his team. I mean i know its because he doesnt know about Dean's feelings and pushes vic to give theo a chance as well as allow theo and travis to talk but come on. He wouldnt get ready separately.

Also what was the point of theo going to that room if not to get ready. Sorry just annoying.

I wish carina had had someone mention andrew to her. Whether ben, bailey, maya or even any of the fire team who worked on the call with him during the crossover awhile back. Her grief during this day of happiness should've been acknowledged, even with just a remembrance table for him amd other family she lost to covid.

I do love this beautiful moment with vic though saying this isnt all just for maya.

Oh my how i love the maya confronting her father. She is the brave i want to be. Also what she says to her mom, yes chefs kiss. However when her mom shows up at the wedding, really the woman couldnt grab a nice shirt or dress to wear on her way out or on her way to the wedding.

I also love the look of pride on maya's moms face both at the house and the wedding.

Im sad we probably wont get any moments of her living with marina due to the time jump.

Ugh the choice that cost maya her promotion but ahouldnt have.

Also with all maya's options for clothes, couldnt they had dressed her mama in something borrowed from maya. Lol im sorry it bothers me so.

Vic's song for the intro is beautiful. Barrett has a beautiful voice.

Maya is so happy her mom is there and i love it. Also in my head at least one person videoing is doing it for the greys family who couldnt make it to the wedding for carina.

I also love maya singing along with vic to carina.

Queen of the clipboard forgetting to write her vows is special and funny. I love carina talking her down from a panic attack. Also her simple vow is beautiful and how carina who probably did write her vows saying we're good instead of reading them after seeing maya's mom in attendance and the look shared is everything.

I truly believe that was the moment she 100% knew maya had changed from end of season 3, was definitely all the way in. She knew what it meant for maya's mom to be there.

Love the dance montage and improved marina kiss.

Another healing theo and travis talk.

Sullivan just cant let it go and ugh trying to justify it. I just cant, still not over it. Even if he isnt captain in season 5 it still isnt right.

Sullivan you cant say you have the teams back then saying you can control them and throwing maya under the bus. Those are contradictory.

This jack and andy conversation is interesting.

This marina conversation is funny but sad when you know the end of the episode.

Its so funny that so few people know about Miller's feelings at this point.

It'll be interesting to see the travis, vic and theo in season 5.

Ben and bailey are so cute.

Wish we couldve had conversations at the wedding with maya and her mom or carina and maya's mom or the 3 of them.

Inara is so wise. I hate this for all 4 of them.

Gotta love the ole grab em and pull em back to kiss them and let them know how you really feel tremmett moment.

Too late dean, they tried to tell you.

I love marina dancing in the background ugh sullivan and the surrera rehashing.

Time for the horrible news ugh.

Everyone just looking at marina and knowing is horrible.

Great season, great episode and im looking forward to whats next.

Thank you to everyone thats been following my rewatch blogging, and for all the kind comments. I appreciate it so much, made the summer so fun.

#station 19 #marina #maya bishop #carina deluca #maya and carina #maya x carina #andy herrera #robert sullivan #dean miller #ben warren #jack gibson #inara #victoria hughes #travis montgomery #maya and carina station 19 #carina x maya #miranda bailey #theo ruiz #emmett dixon

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aliform · 3 years

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I'm going to be 35 this year and finally I can admit to myself I'm sick of screens. I don't want to work in front of a screen anymore. I feel so stuck, so bored, there's no screen-related interest (I've thought of switching to coding, UX design, various) that pulls me into feeling the desire to sit in one place for a full working day. After almost half a decade of working 4-6 hours a day at my old job while my salary remained the same working a full 8 hours alone in my apartment since the start of last year has been at times excruciating. My husband and I joke that I'm the house goblin, roosting on the ceiling at night and leaving cheeto fingerprints on the walls. I'm living the life of an incel NEET who actually has a job.

Obviously I would be more fulfilled if there were friends/hobbies that pushed me out the door but lol in this covid-riddled economy? Every social gathering is just another screen. Screen screen screen. Over it. I don't want an online book club, dnd group, knitting circle, discord friends. Screens. When I am done working I want to be done with sitting down at a monitor. Social with covid = screens. Over it.

Goals for 2022

To make my home my castle -- if I can't escape this place I can at least make it perfect. We've inched towards this in 2021 --bought a small chest freezer for batch cooking, painted some kitchen carts to extend storage for housewares, bought a king-sized bedframe and a (lol) goop-approved mattress to replace my tiny decade-old futon, found a $20 faux-marble countertop that will become my work desk once we build a frame for it, etc. Getting there. Slowly. Don't move twice in 2020. You will be too exhausted to rebuild a home the second time.

I read 16 books in 2021. I read 63 in 2020. I must go back to my first love. Have I mentioned how I hate working a full 8 hours a day?

Crossing my fingers I'm accepted to my county's master naturalist program this year!

Finish any one piece of writing. Please, self, please.

#personal

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reading-writing-revolution · 3 years

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Heather Cox Richardson

October 4, 2021 (Monday)

“hello literally everyone,” the official account of Twitter tweeted this afternoon, after Facebook and its affiliated platforms Instagram and WhatsApp went dark at about 11:40 this morning. The Facebook outage lasted for more than six hours and appears to have been caused by an internal error. But the void caused by the absence of the internet giant illustrated its power at a time when the use of that power has come under scrutiny.

In mid-September, the Wall Street Journal began to publish a series of investigative stories based on documents provided by a whistle-blower.

The “Facebook Files” explore how the company has “whitelisted” high-profile users, exempting them from the rules that put limits on ordinary users. Another article reveals that researchers showed Facebook executives evidence that Instagram damages teenage girls by pushing an ideal body image and that they flagged the increasing use of the site by drug smugglers, human traffickers, and other criminals; their discoveries went unaddressed.

Concerned about declining engagement with their material, Facebook allegedly privileged polarizing material that engaged people by preying on their emotions. It appeared to have encouraged the extremism that led to the January 6 insurrection, lowering restrictions against disinformation quickly after the 2020 election.

Last night, on CBS’s 60 Minutes, former Facebook employee Frances Haugen revealed herself to be the source of the documents. She is concerned, she says, that Facebook consistently looks to maximize profits even if it means ignoring disinformation. Her lawyers have filed at least eight complaints with the Securities and Exchange Commission, which oversees companies and financial markets. Facebook’s vice president of global affairs, Nick Clegg, said it was “ludicrous” to blame Facebook for the events of January 6. Chief executive officer Mark Zuckerberg and chief operating officer Sheryl Sandberg have not commented.

Lawmakers have repeatedly asked Facebook to produce documents for their scrutiny and to testify about the social media platform’s public safeguards. Tomorrow, Haugen will testify before the Senate Subcommittee on Consumer Protection, Product Safety, and Data Security about the effects of social media on teenagers. Her lawyer, Andrew Bakaj, told Cat Zakrzewski and Cristiano Lima of the Washington Post that Haugen’s information is important because “Big Tech is at an inflection point…. It touches every aspect of our lives—whether it’s individuals personally or democratic institutions globally. With such far-reaching consequences, transparency is critical to oversight, and lawful whistleblowing is a critical component of oversight and holding companies accountable.”

Amidst the outrage over the Facebook revelations, technology reporter Kevin Roose at the New York Times suggested that the company’s aggressive attempts to court engagement reveal weakness, rather than strength, as younger users have fled to TikTok and other sites and Facebook has become the domain of older Americans. He notes that Facebook’s researchers foresee a drop of 45% in daily use in the next two years, suggesting that the company is desperate either to retain users or to create new ones.

While the technology Facebook represents is new, the concerns it raises echo public discussion of late nineteenth century industrialization, which was also the product of new technologies. At stake then was whether the concentration of economic power in a few hands would destroy our democracy by giving some rich men far more power than the other men in the country. How could the nation both preserve the right of individuals to build industries and preserve the concept of the common good in the face of technology that permitted unprecedented accumulations of wealth?

While money is certainly at stake in the issue of Facebook’s power today, the more pressing issue for our country is whether social media giants will destroy our democracy through their ability to spread disinformation that sows division and turns us against one another.

When we began to grapple with the excesses of industrialism, lots of people thought the whole system needed to be taken apart—by violence if necessary—while others hoped to save the benefits the technology brought without letting it destroy the country. Americans eventually solved the problems that industrialization raised for democracy by reining in the Wild West mentality of the early industrialists, protecting the basic rights of workers, and regulating business practices.

The leaked Facebook documents suggest there are places where the disinformation at Facebook could be reined in as the overreaches of industrialization were. When Zuckerberg tried to promote coronavirus vaccines on the site, anti-vaxxers undermined his efforts. But one document showed that “out of nearly 150,000 posters in Facebook Groups disabled for Covid misinformation, 5% were producing half of all posts, and around 1,400 users were responsible for inviting half the groups’ new members.” Researchers concluded: “We found, like many problems at FB, this is a head-heavy problem with a relatively few number of actors creating a large percentage of the content and growth.”

“I don’t hate Facebook,” Haugen wrote in a final message to her colleagues at the company. “I love Facebook. I want to save it.”

While most Americans were busy watching Facebook crash—the falling stock took between $5 billion and $7 billion of Zuckerberg’s net worth—drama in Washington, D.C., was an even bigger deal.

Los Angeles Times reporter Sarah D. Wire noted that the rioters who broke into the Capitol on January 6 ran more than 100 feet past 15 reinforced windows, “making a beeline” to four windows that had been left unreinforced in a renovation of the building between 2017 and 2019. They found the four windows, located in a recessed part of the building, Wire wrote, “by sheer luck, real-time trial and error, or advance knowledge by rioters.”

The Select Committee to Investigate the January 6th Attack on the United States Capitol will likely look into this oddity.

The committee has begun to take testimony from cooperative witnesses. Observers expect fireworks on Thursday when former White House Chief of Staff Mark Meadows, longtime Trump aide Dan Scavino, Trump adviser Steve Bannon, and Trump appointee Kash Patel must hand over documents. Trump has vowed to fight the release of any information to the committee. Chair Bennie Thompson (D-MS) says the committee will make criminal referrals for anyone ignoring a subpoena.

Finally, today, the debt ceiling fight got even hotter. While Congress passed a continuing resolution to fund the government through December 3, the issue of the debt ceiling, which stops the government from borrowing money Congress has already spent, remains unresolved. Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen says the government will be unable to pay its obligations after October 18, and warns that a default, which has never before happened, would be catastrophic.

Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) insists the Democrats must raise the debt ceiling themselves, although the Republicans raised it three times under former president Trump and added $7.8 trillion to the debt, which now stands at $28 trillion. But when Democrats tried to pass a measure to raise the ceiling, Republicans filibustered it. As Greg Sargent points out in the Washington Post, McConnell is trying to force the Democrats to raise the debt ceiling through reconciliation, which cannot be filibustered. Since they get only one chance to pass such a bill this year, this would force them to dump their infrastructure bill.

McConnell is holding the nation hostage to keep the Democrats from passing a very popular bill, and today, Biden called him on it. McConnell complained that congressional Democrats were “sleepwalking toward significant and avoidable danger,” prompting Biden to demand that Republicans “stop playing Russian roulette with the U.S. economy.... Not only are Republicans refusing to do their job, but threatening to use their power to prevent us from doing our job—saving the economy from a catastrophic event—I think, quite frankly, is hypocritical, dangerous and disgraceful. Their obstruction and irresponsibility knows absolutely no bounds.”

When asked if he could guarantee we would not default on our debts, Biden said, “No, I can’t…. That’s up to Mitch McConnell.” If McConnell doesn’t blink and the Republicans continue to filibuster Democrats’ attempts to save the economy, there will be enormous pressure on the Democrats to break the filibuster.

Meanwhile, every day this drags on, Congress does not pass the Freedom to Vote Act.

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onlysarah235678 · 4 years

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A Little Bit

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

Request: Can you write about the reader working in healthcare/retail (during or not during COVID-your choice) and she meets Billie and they hit it off?

A/N: So I wrote this a lot faster than I thought I would…don’t expect that to happen again. I hope this is okay. I decided to write about the members of healthcare we don’t always hear about. Also, my friend’s a vet so… enjoy?

Warnings: None? Brief mention of bugs?

It had been wandering around her neighborhood for weeks, but it wasn’t until today that Billie Dean paid it much attention. She’d assumed that the cat was one of her neighbor’s and they just let it roam around. She’d seen its lithe black form darting across the streets on days when she returned from filming late into the night, but besides briefly wondering about where it was going, she never spared it much thought.

However, as she peered under her deck at the sound of quiet meows, she realized she had a problem. She had been out working in her garden on one of her rare days off when she heard it. The medium had turned and seen a pair of eyes from across the yard, and despite her better judgement she went to investigate.

Now, as she stared at the black cat surrounded by her litter of 6, she had a feeling she wouldn’t be getting back to her garden anytime soon.

“Dr. Y/L/N, Lindsey just added another one to your morning.”

You tried not to groan in annoyance when you heard one of the vet assistants say this to you. The day had barely started, but things had been ridiculously busy. The practice you worked at had up to 5 other doctors working at a time on a regular weekday, but since today was Saturday, there were only two working.

Dr. Hahn and you.

The schedule had already been booked by the time you arrived to work, and it was just luck that you had a cancellation for your 11:30 slot. You had already planned on taking an early lunch when news of another appointment being scheduled came. You tried not to be annoyed because this was your job and you did love it. You were just exhausted. It had been a long week.

A long month really.

Since moving to L.A after finishing school, you hadn’t spent much time doing anything other than work. Let alone getting to know the city. You had jumped into your work and spent almost every waking minute thinking about it. As a new vet, you were trying your best to prove yourself and make a good impression at your job. You thought you were doing a fairly good job, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to have much time to yourself.

Other than walking your dog, Milo, who had made the cross-country trip with you, most of your free time was spent making sure you had the most up-to-date information out there to offer your clients. You didn’t want to be caught off guard, not again.

You eventually smiled at the assistant and thanked her despite wanting to glare instead.

“Thank you, Erin.”

It wasn’t her fault you weren’t getting your early lunch.

After corralling the cat and her kittens into the most suitable container she could find, Billie Dean was on her way to the vet. She had called a couple and unfortunately hadn’t been able to get an appointment so last minute. She had almost given up, when the last one she’d called had luckily had a cancellation for only about an hour away.

It was perfect timing until it took her almost 20 minutes to get the cats out from under the deck. The mom hadn’t trusted her immediately and it had taken some coaxing before she’d risked reaching out to pet the mother. While speaking more reassurances that she was sure the cats didn’t understand, Billie Dean collected all 6 kittens and the mother and loaded them into the front seat.

It wasn’t until she started driving that she realized she might be late. This clinic was almost 30 minutes away with normal weekend traffic. Billie Dean sighed before she made sure that all of the cats were still settled in the box before beginning to drive a little bit faster.

Hopefully she wouldn’t be too late.

“They’re late.”

You hadn’t realized it immediately because your last appointment ran over, but once 11:40 rolled around you realized that your 11:30 had never shown up.

You had looked over the details of the appointment quickly realizing that hopefully it would be routine kitten stuff. You hadn’t recognized the name of the owner because well, you didn’t watch much television. It wasn’t until the assistant you were working with for the morning, commented on it, that you realized that Billie Dean Howard was anything special.

“Oh no! She didn’t show up?? Ugh, I was dying to meet her.”

You turned to your disappointed assistant, Erin with a confused frown. You continued to type up your medical note from the last appointment before asking off-handedly.

“Who did you say she was again?”

If you had been paying more attention, you would have noticed Erin shoot you an incredulous look. Instead you were writing about the last patient’s bloodwork when the brunette finally answered you.

“Look, Dr. Y/L/N. I know you’re new to town, but how do you not know who Billie Dean Howard is?”

You just shrugged while shooting the younger woman a sheepish look. You were very good about being the last to know things. It wasn’t your fault you were so out of touch from school. There had hardly been any time for television when you were always studying.

“Sorry, you know I don’t watch much tv.”

Erin shook her head with a sigh before she decided to take pity on you. You finished typing your note and turned to face the other brunette as she explained to you who your missed appointment had been.

“She’s a famous medium who goes to various places around the world that are haunted for her television show. It’s so good, I watched an entire season yesterday.”

Before you had a chance to ask how that was possible, Lindsey appeared with a piece of paper and a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Your 11:30 is here.”

You looked at the clock, it was a quarter to noon, before you just nodded with a small smile. Lindsey handed the check in sheet to Erin who grabbed it with an excited squeal that made you nearly roll your eyes.

At least one of you were excited for this.

Billie Dean was beyond stressed. She had been making good time for her appointment, when the mom cat, she’d taken to calling her Bit, had decided to jump out of the box and explore her car. She’d been so distracted and worried that she’d slowed to the point that people were honking her off the road. She’d stopped in a parking lot to try and get Bit back into the box, but as soon as the door opened, she’d jumped out.

Billie had questioned her decision to not just ignore the cat this morning as she spent the next 15 minutes trying to catch Bit and return her to the car.

Now, she was really late and she knew that she had probably missed her appointment. She hurried inside with the box, making sure to hold onto Bit so she didn’t jump out again before opening the front door. She hurried toward the counter with an apologetic smile and a hopeful look.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I had a bit of a time getting here. I have an appointment for 11:30.”

Billie figured she didn’t need to give her name because the look on the receptionist’s face when she saw her was telling enough. She was used to having fans so she just smiled politely as the other blonde, Lindsey, her nametag said, nodded frantically and ran to the printer.

“Of course, Ms. Howard. I’ll let them know you’re here.”

Billie watched as the younger blonde nearly ran toward the back before she sat down with a sigh. She looked at the box of cats with a small smile. She scratched Bit’s chin before she checked on each of the kittens. They all looked so tiny and weak. They all were huddled up in the middle of the box sleeping on top of each other. It was truly adorable.

“Ms. Howard?”

The medium had been too busy contemplating how many of the kittens she could keep to realize that someone else had entered the waiting room. She looked up to see a brunette smiling at her and holding a door to the back open. She jumped up, clutching onto the box carefully before making her way over to the woman in scrubs.

“Hi. I’m sorry I’m late.”

Erin just smiled and shook her head as she led Billie Dean to a nearby exam room. She’d already screamed silently before coming to get the blonde so she wouldn’t geek out, but she couldn’t help but be a little starstruck by the medium’s presence.

“It’s not a problem, we’re just glad to see kittens on our schedule.”

You waited while your assistant got the history from Billie Dean. From where you were seated in the pharmacy, you could hear some of what was being said. It sounded like a standard visit. No issues except for apparently a random cat decided to have kittens underneath Billie’s porch. You tried not to overthink this visit as you listened to the blonde talk to her assistant. You hadn’t been nervous before because you hadn’t really needed to be.

Except that was when you hadn’t known that you were going to be seeing someone who was famous. Someone whose name you didn’t even recognize, but that was beside the point. The point was that now that the idea was in your head, you were freaking out a little bit.

You could hear a slight accent in her voice and you couldn’t help but smile at it. It sounded cute.

You sat up slightly, startled at the sudden thought. You shook your head scolding yourself for being so unprofessional and attempted to push that thought to the back of your mind. You turned at the sound of the exam door opening and watched as Erin shut it behind her quietly with a huge smile on her face.

“She’s so cool. Oh my god that was so cool!”

She whisper screamed at you and you couldn’t help but laugh in amusement. Someone was clearly starstruck. Hopefully she could get through this without embarrassing them. Or at least her. Anyone. Hopefully no one would be embarrassed.

“Hi, Ms. Howard. I’m Y/F/N, Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

You were surprised by what greeted you inside the exam room. The cat that was bouncing around the room was less of a surprise than the woman who sat in one of the chairs against the wall. You had to stop herself from showing your surprise as you took in the blonde who you’d never heard of until about an hour ago.

Billie Dean Howard wasn’t what you’d been expecting. She was middle-aged with honey blonde hair that fell in neat curls. She was wearing a silk blouse and a skirt with heels. She was definitely the most dressed up of all of your clients today. God, she was beautiful and you had to remind yourself to not stare at her legs as you held out your hand.

The medium smiled as she reached out her own hand and shook yours. Her hand was so soft, but you counted to two before releasing it with a shake of your head.

“Nice to meet you Dr. Y/L/N. I apologize for being so late.” You smiled at the thought of what Erin had told you. It sounded like she had a hell of a time getting here. You couldn’t blame her after what she’d gone through to simply get these cats looked at.

“No need. It sounds like this one was quite the troublemaker.” You pet Bit as she wandered over to you to check you out, and you smiled as she rubbed her face on your hand.

You noticed Billie roll her eyes with a sigh and you couldn’t help but smile at what she said.

“She definitely was. That’s where her name came from after all.”

You frowned in confusion but didn’t get a chance to ask before Billie was explaining herself. She eyed you curiously as she shrugged indifferently.

“I may have called her, her name with an added ‘ch’ a couple times on the way here. Specifically, while I was chasing her around a Denny’s parking lot.”

You tried not to laugh at the ridiculous image that conjured in your brain, but it was useless. You were laughing before you could help it because honestly who wouldn’t find this elegant woman running after a cat in a parking lot hilarious.

You stifled your laughter before you cleared your throat and shot Billie a smile. “Well, it sounds like the name suits her.”

You examine each of the kittens carefully, and confirm that they are less than a week old since their eyes are still closed. They are all a little buggy from living under the deck so you deworm them and Bit so she won’t spread any parasites to them. As you explain this to Billie while applying the medication, you notice that she is shooting you an odd look. You don’t really worry too much about it because it’s probably just confusion from a too-sciency word you used.

When the kittens are all checked out and the mom is back in the box resting with them, you decide that you should figure out what happens next.

“They’ll need their mom for milk for the next month, but have you decided if you want to keep them?”

Erin leaves at this point because now that the exams are done, you’re mostly just talking. You pretend not to notice how she is reluctant to leave, and instead focus on Billie’s wide eyes as she shakes her head with a laugh.

“No, I don’t think I can keep them all. Maybe one or two. I don’t want to be known as the crazy old cat lady.”

You laugh again before moving your stethoscope off the exam table so it’s not sitting in all of the baby food you fed to Bit. “You’re definitely not old, Ms. Howard.”

You nearly slap your hand to your mouth as your eyes widen in mortification. God you did not just say that did you? You look to the blonde about to apologize, but you see her smiling at you instead. You hear her teasing tone and blush despite your best efforts at what she says in response.

“Thank you dear, but please. Call me Billie.”

You nod dumbly before you start picking off some of the black hair on your coat, only to give up after a few seconds. You’re covered and you miss the amused look Billie shoots you as you try to get back on track.

“Okay, Billie. Well once they’re old enough, you can take them to a shelter, or you can bring them here. We adopt out kittens. Our last ones actually just went home with some clients.”

It’s nearly 12:30 when you’re finished answering some of Billie’s general questions. You had an assistant find a carrier for Billie to take so she wouldn’t have to worry about Bit escaping again. You load the cats into it while Billie gets checked out at the front desk. By the time she gets back, you have only Bit left to put in.

Of course she decides she’d rather run around the room though. You ignore your growling stomach which conveniently covers up the sound of the door opening behind you as you hurry to catch the cat.

“Come here you little, Bit. You need to get in here so your mom doesn’t lose you at Denny’s again.”

Once you finally get her inside the carrier and close it with a sigh, you realize that you are being watched. You look up from where you’re kneeling on the ground to see Billie watching you from the doorway with a smile. You fight a blush as you pick up the carrier carefully before taking a step toward the door.

“Here, let me help you to your car.”

Billie shook her head. She’d already taken up a lot of your time. It was nearly 1 and most everyone else was on lunch.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, sweetheart. I’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

Billie looked like she was going to argue, but you just stood with the carrier held in your hand with a smile. Ready to go. She sighed and your smile widened as you followed the blonde out of the building.

You nearly stop short at the pet name, the second pet name she’s used, but you recover just in time to shake your head with a smile.

“Don’t be silly. It’s not a problem.”

You arrive to her car without incident and she opens the backdoor for you. You smile before placing them in the back seat, trying not to be too nosy as you duck into her car before standing up straight again.

“You’re all set, Ms—Billie.”

Billie smiles at your save as she shuts the door behind you. You stand by awkwardly as she takes a moment to study you. She opens her mouth to say something but stops short before simply nodding.

“Thank you again. It was nice to meet you, Dr. Y/L/N.”

You blush before waving her off as you look away to hopefully save face before responding. “Y/F/N, please and you too.”

As you’re about to turn away and head back inside for some much-needed lunch when something occurs to you. You smile slightly as you dig into your pocket and grab a card to hand to her. The medium takes your business card with a smile, and her fingers brush against yours briefly. Your cheeks redden and you curse yourself when you see Billie’s smile turn into a smirk. You manage to speak up before she can and drop your hand away and into your pocket.

“My card. In case you have any questions. You can call us or email anytime.”

Billie looked over the card, realizing that it had the clinic’s number and a shared email address on it. She decided not to be deterred and shot the blushing doctor a curious look.

“So in the event of an emergency, and the clinic’s closed…what number would I call?”

You laughed nervously as you thought about your options. You could tell that Billie was flirting. You were dense, but not that dense, and you decided to take a risk. You shrugged before you dug around in your pocket once again for a pen before reaching out for the card you’d just given away.

“Well you could call the emergency clinic up the road, or you can call me. Whichever.”

Billie looks at the number that you scrawled down with a grin. “This is your personal number?”

You smirked before taking a step back toward the building hoping to retreat before you say something too dumb. “It is. To use for emergencies or whatever else.”

You smile a little wider as Billie’s face lights up and she shoots you a suggestive look. You merely laugh before turning around and heading back inside. You know she’s watching you, but you don’t turn around until you reach the door. You’re not surprised to see her still standing there watching, and you shoot her one last smile and wave before ducking back inside.

Part 2

#billie dean howard #murder house #fic request #billie dean howard x reader #ahs #eeek #american horror story #ahs fanfic #hope you like it anon #:)#a little bit #my fic #ahs imagine

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phynali · 3 years

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so not to ruminate on things that vex me, but the past 2 or so months have been kinda shit, and i’m trucking along and there absolutely are high points and good things and joys that balance some of this out, but i need to vent out some of the negative emotions somewhere to get ‘em out. so i guess i’m doing that here because -

we’re in lockdown#6 where i live (state of victoria) and it’s hard, this yo-yo of restrictions and swinging in and out of one lockdown after another.

for those who understandably won’t know, what we call lockdown here means not just restaurant and commercial closures and mandatory working from home unless you’re in an industry where that’s impossible -- it also means no guests (0) inside you’re home unless you’re both living alone and single or else romantic partners, it means not leaving your home at all except for one of 4-5 necessary reasons, not being outside for more than 2hrs per day even to exercise, and not going more than 5km from your home unless required for work/medical/etc required reasons.

it’s intense. we spent (i think) 128 days in this degree of lockdown in 2020, never mind how many we spent in other forms of restrictions and working from home. and we’ve been back in it four (4) times in 2021 already. in-out-in-out-in-out -

it’s taking a toll on the mental health of every person i know. we get weekly emails with wellbeing and resilience tips from my job -- not just “be productive or else” capitalism but heartfelt ones from wellbeing officers with copies of articles like this one on languishing from the NYT, acknowledging we’re all struggling and directing us to the plethora of wellbeing resources our workplace is trying to provide, not only to us but reminding us they offer it to our families too.

i’m one of the lucky ones. i’m really not trying to wallow here or to pretend otherwise. i appreciate that i can work from home, even though i can’t focus when i do and it this interacts with my adhd to fuck my productivity. even if i’m so behind and delayed it feels like i’ve lost 12-18 months worth of work and it will have long-term ramifications on my career -- even so, i still i have a job. i still get paid. and i even kept my job, a bit by the skin of my teeth but i did, when my sector downsized last year. yes, the way my employer went about lay offs left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth (my own included), but i made it through.

and my sector, while affected, is by no means the worst of the collateral damage.

the yo-yo of lockdowns is taking a very very real toll on industries like hospitality, tourism, commerce. and the economy does have indirect effects on health and mental health as well. my friend, a waitress, was on her way to work the evening shift at a restaurant when she got the call about the latest lockdown. she had to turn around and go home because the announcement came just hours before the lockdown was imposed, and every place suddenly had to close by 8pm. bye bye evening shift. so much of the government support for these industries has dried up, has been inadequate.

lockdowns save lives. i don’t begrudge my state for imposing one except that yes -- i’m resentful we’re here again with only six cases. i can be both accepting and grateful and also pissed and tired and more all at once.

even more than the latest lockdown, i’m pissed about the yo-yo. that we went into lockdown in june, came out in july, went back in in july, came back out in july, are going back in now, in the first week of august. three lockdown/re-openings in 10 weeks, as if this rollercoaster doesn’t completely incapacitate our ability to plan or prepare for anything more than a week out, more than a day out -- in this case, more than a few hours out. 4pm the lockdown was announced, with an 8pm start time. as if that doesn’t have more insidious consequences on individuals and industries than a more clearly articulated and consistent approach. as if all the restaurants that got to open up this week didn’t purchase large food orders for this weekend that will spoil because they were given 4 hours notice to close their doors.

that’s the part i hate, right now more than the lockdowns themselves. consumer sentiment was at a high in april, optimism was everywhere. people felt good, and like we had a plan forward. now -- well, now my job is sending me emails about how normal and okay it is that i might be ‘languishing’ because aren’t we all?

and i absolutely do begrudge my federal government, and i’m angry with them, and this is part of why:

youtube

but i also accept, to some extent, that these decisions have all been made in difficult circumstances, and i’m not really about to pretend i could do any better.

at the same time, australia’s vaccine rollout is among the slowest and lowest at least within OECD countries. i know that’s partly because we’ve managed the keep cases low and therefore we are prioritized less when it comes to who needs the vaccines most (and thus who is earlier in line to be able to purchase) among other geo-political reasons i won’t get into, but it still very much sucks. our timeline and ability to move forward and ability to stop having lockdowns requires a mostly-vaccinated population, and that’s not something we’ll have anytime soon.

and i am a visa-holder here and my family is back in canada and with our current border restrictions leaving to visit is honestly is not an option because i wouldn’t be able to return, to work. i’m managing that distance okay most of the time despite my homesickness and frustration but my partner’s parents are older and his mother’s health just isn’t amazing and it’s weighing on him a lot.

a phd student i work with just had a parent die in another country while stuck here, had to drop everything to return, is devastated by not being by their parent’s side when it happened because it came on sudden, and now won’t be able to come back into australia after, will have to finish their thesis remotely from abroad. stories like that are becoming commonplace in certain circles, here. this student is not the first or only person i know who has been in that exact situation in the past year.

it’s enraging, and upsetting, and instills a sense of helplessness because -- there’s nothing that can really be done about it. there’s no good answer, but it’s scary to think of what could happen. i know it scares my husband. if his mother’s health suddenly dips -- does he drop everything and leave? how can he not? would i go with him or hold the fort here? what ramifications does that have either way?

right now, we’re in the first stages of getting permanent residency, my job is putting in the nomination, and this is one of those awesome high-points i mentioned. it’s a very much needed sense of security in my career and my future in this country. but while a PR application is pending and under review, you can’t leave the country, even in pre-covid times. it takes months to get the application fully nominated, accepted, then submitted, and months on months to process.

in january 2020 we had agreed that for xmas 2020 we’d return home to canada. obviously the world changed and we quickly determined that wouldn’t be the case. we pushed that plan back to july-aug 2021, then to october 2021, xmas 2021. my partner’s sister asked him last week if we started making plans, booking things for xmas, was calling to check that we’d had our second jabs. he had to explain the situation to her, that we aren’t even eligible for our first vaccine yet, that we aren’t holding out any real hope of visiting, not this year, not until mid-next.

anyway - i’m just. languishing, i guess, if that’s the word for it after all. i know it’s not the same as depression -- i’ve had episodes of that, been treated for it in different ways. this is and feels different, even if there are obvious similarities. whatever to call it, it sucks, and i hate it. and i hate the other lows and anxieties and crap i’ve been dealing with in the past few months as well that didn’t make it into this post about covid. crap with work, with friends, with goddamn car rentals of all stupid things. crap that’s making me anxious and crap that just needs processing. crap that is, ultimately, massively exacerbated because lockdowns turn us into little rats gnawing on the bars of our cages.

and i guess i just needed to talk about it somewhere, to organize my thoughts and free up some headspace (emotion space?) currently being used to hold these thoughts and feelings in place. i kind of hate posting personal crap like this and always get the urge to delete but i also have a hard time organising my thoughts if i don’t write them out with this intent to post. sort of want to go outside and scream at god, sort of want to phone up a friend and yell at him for an hour for being an exhausting ass, sort of want to be alone for a day to curl up under a blanket with a movie that’ll make me cry because raging at the universe is always so much easier when i’m alone and unobserved. but i guess since those aren’t especially kind or feasible i’ll post this instead.

anyway - if you read to the end of this for any reason, i’m not trying to be maudlin, and there’s really no need to respond. it’s just a feelings dump, sucking some of the poison out, not really much different than journalling but i’ve always been better at that online than on paper.

#ugh #personal post #just organising thoughts and bitching about present circumstances #because i'm tired of 2021's bullshit and needed to vent a bit #gpoy

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 3 years

Text

Fake FBI Agents? Sam x Reader (With lots of Dean)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I am alive but I’ve been hella busy with work, as some of you know. And then, I got my second COVID shot and had a BAD reaction to it so I’m trying to recover.

This story is based off my real job working for at my local police department, which I’ll be celebrating 6 months at this month! I thought it would be funny if I could tell that Sam and Dean were fake FBI agents based off looking at their badges because I do see and interact with real FBI agents occasionally.

I also met a Texas Ranger not too long ago and even though he was *much* older than me, he was *very* attractive. Not like Jared’s Cordell Walker but still.

Hope everyone enjoys this and all feedback is welcome!

Warnings: FLUFF, series level violence, angst, pining, blood, serious injuries, series level monsters, lots of pain but the fluff makes up for it.

Word Count: 5, 981

Masterlist of all Masterlists| Supernatural Masterlist

Working for a police department was quite a unique experience. On a daily basis, you got to see the worst in people. From assaults to thefts, stolen vehicles, and homicides, there was never a dull moment when you had to work to help the public. Even with not being on the emergency side of the police department, you were still helping people and were trying to solve all their problems when they couldn’t seem to handle them on their own. Growing up, wanting to help people was always a priority for you but you never thought that would be fulfilled working in law enforcement. Sure, there were times when it would get super overwhelming with the constant phone calls and reports you would have to take over the phone and/or in person, and if you were left on a shift alone, it was that much more challenging. But ultimately, you did enjoy what you did because you felt as though you were being an important part of your community, whether you were acknowledged for it or not. And, who wouldn’t want to look at those cute police officers all day long? Just a small amount of time spent chit-chatting with them as you handed them over the keys to their vehicles for their shifts, still seemed cool. Who doesn’t appreciate a man in uniform? One night, as you were working alone, you had two, albeit very attractive men, come into the lobby of the department and came to the window to speak with you.

“Hi, how can I help y’all?” You ask, looking to the shorter of the two men.

“Yeah, we’re here about a case. I’m Agent Tyler, this is my partner Agent Perry, with the FBI.” The man said, as he pulled out his FBI badge, his partner followed his lead.

You stood from your desk to walk over to the window to see their badges, and upon closer inspection, you discovered they were fake. Immediately, you started laughing, causing the two men to just stare at you with a shared look of confusion.

“What’s so funny ma’am?” The taller of the two asked.

“Y’all aren’t from the FBI,” You said, laughing harder as your sides began to hurt.

“Um, yeah, we are, didn’t you see our badges?” Agent “Tyler,” said to you, flashing his badge again.

“Yes, I saw your fake FBI badges,” you said, eyeing the men suspiciously.

“How did you know?” Agent “Perry,” asked.

“Because this is a police department. We have a local FBI office and I have dealt with them several times since I’ve worked here. We’re trained to spot real and fakes badges and from my training, these two are definitely fake,” you said, smirking smugly.

“Damn, she’s good, Sammy,” the shorter one said.

“So, what do you two really want?” You ask, cocking your eyebrow up to further question the men.

“Okay, here’s the truth. I’m Sam, this here’s my brother Dean, we’re in town to investigate a string of disappearances that have been going on over the past week-and-a-half. Do you know anything about them?” The taller one, Sam, said to you, giving a sad, puppy-dog look as he spoke.

“Of course I do. Police department remember? I can’t begin to tell y’all how many missing person reports our agency has been taking during that time. At least close to thirty and that’s a huge number for a town of about 100,000 people,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Well, what’s been reported?” The shorter one, Dean, asked.

“I can’t share that information with you but what I can do is call over to dispatch and see if they can send an officer up here to speak with y’all?”

“Okay, that’d be great,” Sam said.

“Alright y’all have a seat and I’ll see about getting an officer over here to help y’all out,” you say, turning around to head back to your desk.

The two men sat in chairs beside one another as you called over to dispatch to set up an officer to come speak to the guys.

“Well, officers are currently 10-6 (busy) so it may be a while before they’re able to get out there,” the dispatcher informs you.

“Okay, I’ll let them know, thanks. Sam, Dean?” You call to the guys as both their heads turn to look at you. “All our officers are busy with other calls at the moment but someone should be up here soon to speak to you,”

“Great, thanks a lot sweetheart,” Dean said, winking at you but you just ignore him.

Almost an hour later, an officer was dispatched and on his way to speak to the men, much to their happiness.

“Hey, sorry for keeping y’all waiting, I’m officer King, how can I help y’all?” The officer said, shaking hands with both Sam and Dean.

“Well first of all you should give that young lady behind that desk there a raise because she’s doing a wonderful job,” Dean stated, shooting another wink in your direction. Officer King just laughs as Sam groans beside Dean and takes over-explaining.

“We work for a podcast that reports unsolved cases and we just wanted to see if you had any information you could give us,” Sam explained.

“Sure, why don’t y’all come back to my office and we can discuss this,” Officer King said, nodding to you before he led the men back to his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About half an hour later, the boys had come out to the lobby and over to the counter again.

“What can I do for y’all?” You ask.

“Well, we just wanted to thank you for your help but also wanted to ask if you wanted to be included in this story because we heard your sister was reported missing?” Sam asked.

“Um, yeah, yeah she was. But no, I don’t mind talking about it, if y’all think you might be able to help,” you say. “I don’t get off until 11 tonight but I’m off tomorrow so I can meet y’all somewhere then and we can go over this.”

“Great. Where can we meet you?” Dean asked.

“Why not right back here say 10 am?” You suggested, not confident in trusting them to meet you anywhere else.

“Easy enough. See you tomorrow,” Dean said, shooting a quick wink your way before Sam just smiled and nodded to you.

The rest of the shift went by without too much excitement going on from your side of the screen, but the officers you could see from the call screen, they were dealing with quite a bit of incidents around town.

That night, you kept to your normal routine of driving home and quickly locking up behind you before you let your dog outside and made a quick meal for dinner as you searched for something to watch on Netflix. Your mind wandered off to the two brothers you met earlier that night. It seemed weird how they came up to the desk and just started asking a lot of questions. Most people have complaints or need to make some form of a report but these two? They were strange, to say the least, but they weren’t too bad to look at, especially Sam. He towed above you from the opposite side of the window and although he couldn’t touch you, he seemed rather intimidating. On the one hand, his eyes were soft but his height and the muscles that protrude from his arms made him a little scary. On the other hand, you thought about what it would be like to have him push you against a wall and have his way with you. You shudder at the thought; you don’t even know the man! I think it’s time for bed. You thought to yourself, trying to wish anyway whatever thoughts you were thinking to yourself but the last thing you thought as you shut your eyes for the night, was the name; Sam.

The next morning, you woke up and got yourself ready for meeting the brothers. You weren’t sure what exactly to expect but you did know you were looking forward to seeing them again. But it was odd to you; why would two strangers from God knows where come to your small town to investigate a string of disappearances? Who were these brothers? Whatever their story was, you decided to proceed to meet with them cautiously, because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from working for the police department; you can’t trust people’s stories. Gathering your things together, you got in your car and drove back down to the station where you almost immediately saw the two strangers leaning against a beautiful classic car, seemingly waiting for you. You would be lying if you said your heart was beating erratically. Something seemed weird about the brothers so you reached in your bag to secure the small handgun you kept there just in case.

“Hey guys,” you say, letting go of the gun but remembering it was still there.

“Hey,” Sam said, giving you a tight smile.

“Okay, so what do y’all wanna know?” You ask, looking between the brothers who just share a glance.

“Well, why don’t you start with your name?” Dean said.

“Oh, right, I’m (y/n). Nice meeting y’all properly,” You say.

“You too, (Y/N). How long have you been working for the police department?” Sam questioned.

“Just about a year now,” you state, walking over to a picnic table and throwing your legs under the table, the brothers sitting opposite of you.

“Have you ever seen any kind of activity like this before? This many disappearances?”

“No, never. We’ve had a few years where it was close to this but this year is on a completely different level. Our officers have never seen this kind of activity either, nor the detectives. Even those who’ve worked for the department the longest said they’ve never encountered an invisible monster on this large a scale in a long time,” you say, not believing the recent incidents that had been happening in your jurisdiction.

“Is there anything these cases have in common?” Dean asks.

“Not that I’ve seen but you should definitely talk to detectives because they know more about that kind of thing than I do.”

“How about the families of the victims? Anything seem similar to you?”

“You know, there is something similar with the victims’ families. They all come from upper-class backgrounds. We have two wealthier neighborhoods in town and all the victims are living in those neighborhoods,” you say.

“That’s interesting. Any reason that may be?” Dean said to Sam like he would know the answer.

“Not really but I do have some ideas of what this might be,” Sam said.

“What do you mean you might know what this is? Y’all aren’t even from here nor have even seen the reports!”

“Should we tell her?” Sam asked.

“I think we can trust her plus with the way you’ve been looking at her, I think she should know,” Dean said, causing his brother’s cheeks to turn red.

“Tell me what? How has Sam been looking at me?” You asked, not sure which was more important right now.

“We’re hunters and we don’t mean animals. We hunt monsters, like the ones you hear about in books or on TV. They’re real; all of them. And we hunt them, kill them, to protect the country,”

Sam explained like it was the easiest explanation for anyone to hear in the world.

“What? Monsters? Like made-up monsters? Like werewolves? Vampires? Ghosts? Those are real?” You ask.

“Every one of them. Plus so many others and we kill them. They attack humans, we kill them,” Dean said, with the most serious expressions you’ve ever seen.

“Wha-why are you telling me this? I-I don’t understand, monsters. They’re real? And y’all hunt them, kill them, to protect people?” You ask, repeating the info the brothers just told you.

“Yes and we think there might be one of those monsters here in town that could be causing this many disappearances,” Sam added.

“Why did y’all ask me about this? Why not anyone else? This-this is a lot,” You say.

“Because you were the only one willing to talk to us about this. No one else said anything about the disappearances.” Dean said.

You just looked between the two brothers, nothing spoken, but you nodded and agreed to help in any way you could.

“So you said you may know what this is? What do you think it is?” You asked, looking to Sam, who slowly made eye contact with you.

“Sounds like sirens,” Sam said.

“What are sirens?” You ask, never hearing of that kind of monster before.

“They’re creatures with the ability to change its appearance, kind of like a shapeshifter, but these guys get into people’s heads and make them think they’re the ‘perfect person for them. It makes me think that sirens have been luring people out of the town as if they were promising people in town something they’ve always wanted but never had. It would explain all the disappearances,” Sam explained.

“What do they look like so we have an idea of what to look for?” You ask.

“Well that’s just it, kid, you can’t tell what they look like unless you cast their reflection onto a mirror. They typically look like whoever they take the form of but when you see them through a mirror, they have like blackened eyes, like a demon, but a mouth that looks like it’s stitched shut,” Dean answers you, slightly scaring you.

“Y’all don’t need me to help out with this, do you? Like, go with you on the hunt? Cause I really don’t think I should be there,” You say, your stomach-churning as the thought of these creatures plague your mind.

“No sweetheart, you’ve done more than enough to help us with this case. You gave us a lot of useful information that we’ll need to locate these predators. All you need to worry about is keeping your pretty little self safe at home,” Dean said, winking at you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the boys were preparing to go out on their hunt, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixated on Sam. He was still doing some research, he said he wanted to get some last-minute information on the town you lived in and the kind of people he would have to encounter who the Sirens had “possessed,” yet something about the way he focused, was captivating all your attention.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class (y/l/n)?” He asked in a teasing voice, breaking you from the concentration you held.

“I’ve never seen anyone research like you do. You’re very dedicated to your work and it shows. Plus, you get a very serious look on your face, and your eyebrows kind of scrunch together when you’re really concentrating; it’s rather cute,” you say, and although you weren't so sure how he’d react, the light pink color that begun to spread over his tanned cheeks gave you all the answers you needed.

“Well, I can’t say I ever heard that one before and most people don’t use “cute” as a means to describe me, but I find it flattering, so thank you,” he says, giving you a shy smile.

“I take it that not very many people compliment you,” you state.

“If people get compliment me, it’s because of my hunting skills or some information I found ended up being useful or I saved someone’s life, but the way I look as I concentrate on my work and definitely because I’m ‘cute,’ yeah I don’t hear that often,” he shakes his head but with a giant smile plastered across his face.

“Hey, you have dimples, those are cute too,” you compliment him again, causing the shade of red on his cheeks to darken. “And by that reaction, I’m guessing a lot of people don’t compliment you on your dimples either, do they?”

“Actually that one I hear all the time, but it’s still sweet of you to say, so thank you,” he says, smiling down at you.

“Well I think that’s about enough chick-flick moments I can handle for one day,” Dean said, suddenly appearing in the doorway to the library, surprising you and Sam. “You ready Sammy?” He asks his younger brother who quickly clears his throat and gets up, shutting his laptop and throwing it in a backpack.

“Yep, all set,” he says.

“Okay (y/n) so you gonna be okay just laying low for a little bit while we go gank these sons of bitches?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, I have a hot date with Netflix, popcorn, and comfy pillows and PJs for the night. I’ll be good,” you say.

“Well if you need anything, we left our numbers down here for you and we’ll come back and let you know what our outcome was since this is your town and you helped give us information on this case,” Dean said, giving you a slip of paper before he climbs behind the wheel of his sleek black classic car.

Sam, who remained standing in front of you for a minute, waited until the door slammed shut before he spoke up.

“As Dean said, if anything happens, just, don’t hesitate to call and we’ll be there. I uh, would hate to see something happen to you,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Is Sam Winchester paying me a compliment now? From what I’ve heard, that’s not common for you,” you said.

“What you heard?” He asks, worry filling his tone. “Who-who did you talk to?”

“No one silly but you don’t think I didn’t research y’all when you came to town? Believe it or not, there is a national name file for both of you and I’ve read about a lot of the time officers have been after you. Remember, I work for a police department; I can find out a lot about your demons,” you said, grinning at the man who still stood before you but suddenly seemed a bit smaller at that moment.

“Oh, that’s pretty smart and also kind of scary. Guess we can’t lie to you after all,” he says.

“Nope, because I always have a way of finding out the truth, plus “poses as fake FBI agents” came up as reasons why police officers need to be careful with you two. Although they haven’t had any run-ins with y’all in a long time,” you add, smirking at the stunned expression on the youngest Winchester’s face.

“Oh uh, yeah, we’ve been trying not to get into too much trouble lately, well at least not getting arrested,” he says.

“Yeah, I read about the few times that happened,” you add with a wink.

“Okay, so I’m going to go mostly cause I’m a bit scared now but there’s also not the best thoughts going through my head right now, so we’ll talk soon, okay?” He asks and when he sees you nod your understanding, he nods quickly back to you and hurries off to his brother’s car, and climbs into the passenger seat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“Hey, you okay there, Sammy? I haven’t seen you that uptight about a girl in, well I don’t know long,” Dean says, smirking when he sees whatever look is on my face right now.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” I lie, knowing damn well what he was trying to get out of me.

“Really? Cause it seemed like (y/n) was getting to you a bit back there,”

“No, she’s, she’s fine,” I say, trying to end this discussion.

“Yeah, but are you?” He asks.

“So I’m thinking when we get there, we should go right in, guns blazing and everything. No time to waste today,” I say, hoping desperately Dean would just drop the topic of (y/n) so we could focus on our case, and luckily he did.

There wasn’t anything wrong with (y/n), quite the opposite actually, and that was the problem. She was so infuriating, knowing that she could find out every little secret Dean and I had in the last, shit I don’t know how many years, and the fact she was so smug about it; who does she think she is?! Is she even allowed to do that? Like can’t employees of the police department get in trouble for looking up information about people? Well, maybe not, because they need to know what kind of people they have to deal with but like I told her before, we can’t hide anything from her! Not that I want to or anything but there are certain parts of this job I don’t think she should have to know about. Then again, we did tell her about what we really do out for a living so I can’t imagine too much more information would be bad for her to know. I just can’t see her knowing every little detail about our lives! I mean, yeah we’ve only known her for a couple of days since we came to town but already I can tell she is so sweet and so pure in certain things. I can’t imagine her reaction to some of the stories we could tell her. Wait am I saying? She works for a freaking police department; she probably hears horror stories on a regular basis! She may be sweet but I bet she’s more tough than she makes people believe.

“Earth to Sammy! Come in Sammy!” Dean says, bringing my attention back to him.

“Huh?” I say, looking at him.

“I said, are you ready? We’re here.”

I looked around where Baby stopped and saw we were in fact, there.

“Oh, yeah, I’m ready,” I say, opening the door to get out, gun ready at my side. We walked to the house where the last disappearance occurred and slowly made our way inside. The house was a mess, documents and files thrown across the floor, books and their shelves broken down; it looked like a tornado blew through here. Just as we made our way further in the house, up to the bedrooms, some lady came out of nowhere and tried to stab me but thankfully Dean heard her before I did so he was able to shoot her before she got to me.

“Thanks,” I say before having to turn and fight off another Siren who went for me again, Dean fighting off his own.

This went on for a while until we figured we killed them all and we could head back to meet with (y/n) until my phone started to ring.

“Hello?” I ask when I answer the phone.

“Sam?” A small voice asks.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” She sounded scared; my senses going into overdrive.

“I-I need help. I don’t know where I am but...something happened….” She says, sounding like she was crying.

“Okay (y/n) where are you? What do you see around you?” I ask and Dean comes closer to my side.

“Um, it’s dark and I can’t see too much. I-I’m sorry,” she says, crying again.

“Hey, no, don’t you apologize. You did nothing wrong. What do you remember?”

“Um, I was just sitting in the apartment living as I told you I was going to do and then someone got inside and then I blacked out and when I woke up, I was here. I-I think I’m tied up and I’m in a lot of pain. I-I don’t know what happened Sam but I’m scared,” she sounds so helpless at this point.

“Hey, baby, listen to me alright, you’re going to be okay, okay? Dean and I are going to come to find you and we’re going to fix you up well, I promise,” I say, trying to calm her down. I know she’s scared but I hope I can settle her down a bit.

“Okay and Sam, hurry, please?” She asks, more desperate than before.

“We will, we’re on our way now. I’m going to stay on the phone with you so we can try to see if we can tell where you’re at okay?” I look to Dean who immediately takes my silent signal and rushes out the door and right out to the car. We jump in and race to figure out where (y/n) may be. I can hear (y/n)’s breathing get quieter and I’m afraid if she falls asleep, she won’t wake up.

“(y/n) can you hear me? Hey, I need you to talk to me, okay? I need you to keep talking,” I say as I keep trying to hear for any background noise to see if we could tell where she was.

“I really don’t have anything to say,” she says, her voice fragile.

“You never told me, why you chose to work for the police department,” I say, trying to see if that would get her talking.

“Well I needed a-another job and-a job as a-dispatcher came out so I-went to apply-and I-I ended up-getting that job-but with m-my training it-it became too-too hard so I transferred-to where I am n-now.”

“That’s good,” I say, smiling at her, even though I knew she couldn’t see it.

“Yeah I-I also wanted t-to help people,” she adds.

“I bet, you’re so good at helping people and I’m so proud of you,” I say, trying my hardest not to get upset myself. I can’t say for certain what I feel right now for (y/n) but I do know I care about her and I told her, I would hate it if anything happened to her and I don’t take that lightly.

“Sam, it-it hurts,” she says, and my heart breaks a little more when I hear just how uncomfortable she is.

“I know baby, but it’ll be over soon; I promise,”

“S-Sam?” She asks.

“Yeah?”

“Why-why do you keep calling m-me baby?” Damn, she may be in agony but she still picked up on that.

“You’ve caught that huh? Well, you are my baby,” I admit.

“But wouldn’t that mean I-I’m your girl?”

“You are my girl.”

“But we-we aren’t dating!”

“I know, but I want to change that,” I say.

“Really? You-you want to d-date me?” I can hear the tiniest bit of hope arise in her tone so I continue to talk about it.

“Of course I do! Ever since we met, I was immediately attracted to you. I thought you were so beautiful and you had a bit of an attitude too. But I thought it was cute. And then you have a bit of an accent and whenever you say y’all, you sound like a true Texas girl and it makes me smile. I know you said at one point, you weren’t from here longer than 6 years but you seem to be a Texan to me and it’s very attractive. I want to take you out and get to know you better; you have no idea how much I wish I could be there to hold you right now,” I exhale, everything finally coming out about how I was feeling. The line remained silent and I began to panic until I heard,

“I feel the same about you, Sam,” she said, clear as day.

“Well, why don’t you keep fighting to stay alive so I can take you on that date and give you all the hugs and cuddles you deserve?”

“That sounds great,” she said before a blood-curdling scream pierced my eardrums.

“(Y/N)?!” And with that, the line dropped. “Dean, we have to find her!” I grow weary as I feel the acceleration of Baby set forth by Dean. I tried to track whatever phone (y/n) had called from and was able to find out the last known location.

“Okay so the phone is pinging from up the road about two miles; she can’t be too far away,” I tell Dean, more determined than ever to find her.

“We’ll find her Sammy; I know we will.” Dean tries his hardest to help ease my worries but the sound of her scream is taunting me.

When we got to the location the phone was pinging from, there wasn’t much but an old house that appeared to have been partially burned down a few years ago. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to use this house as any means of suspicious activities but I can’t understand people. I jump out of the car and rush inside, holding my gun out in front of me, ready to shoot anyone who crosses my path.

“(Y/N)?!” I yell out when I’m inside the house, Dean close behind me.

“Sam!” I hear a voice yell back at me and I rush towards where the voice was coming from.

“Dean!” I yell, as I’m almost attacked by a Siren but Dean shoots it before it gets to me.

“Go find her, Sam, I got this,” Dean says and I rush off to find (Y/N).

“(Y/N)?” I call out again and am met with her reply, sounding a lot closer. When I turn the corner into another room, I see her tied to a table, in nothing but her bra and underwear, and blood dripping down from her abdomen. I rush over to her and immediately start untying her restraints.

“Sam?” A small voice squeaks out and two big (y/e/c) eyes land on me.

“Hey pretty girl, you got some pretty nasty injuries here. I’m going to get you untied and I’ll take you back to your place and fix you up, okay?” I say as calmly as I can. I know she’s very fragile, just like she was on the phone, but I work diligently to set her free. Once I get the last restraint undone, I slowly and cautiously lift her under her arms and legs and carry her bridal out of the house and out to the car. She groans when I gently place her in the back seat but before I could walk away, she grabs my hand.

“Will you stay back here with me, please?” Well, how was I going to say no to that?

“Of course pretty girl,” I say, climbing in and sitting beside. I lay her head on my lap, stroking her hair and having her hold a towel on her stomach.

“So I’m a pretty girl now, huh?” She asks, looking up at me. I smile down at her, blushing just a bit at her comment.

“Well I thought baby was a little too romantic right now and since we haven’t even gone on a date yet, I figured pretty girl had just enough effectiveness but not too much into the romantic side of things,” I explain.

“I like these nicknames you’re using for me; they’re sweet,” she says.

“I’m surprised you’re even able to pay attention to what I’m calling you or not in your state right now,” I say.

“Hey, just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate when a very attractive man compliments me. Hell, if I had more strength, I’d probably kiss you right now.”

“I can help with that,” I say, gently tilting her head a bit further back so I could easily kiss her. And I did but I held back a bit for fear I would hurt her more. So I left a small yet powerful, I’d hope, kiss on her lips, with a small taste of blood behind it. I looked up to see Dean grin at us through the rearview mirror, ignoring whatever he was hinting at, but I couldn’t help the small smile that played on my lips.

We decline to take (Y/N) back to her house for fear something like this would happen to her again. She put up no fight, not that she really could if she wanted to, but I felt better about it because now, I wasn’t going to let her out of my sight. Because last time I did that, she ended up hurt, and it was my fault because I left her alone.

Back in the room, I give up my bed as Dean helps me lower her so we could get a good look at her. The shirt she was wearing had a rather large stain of blood on one side so the only way to get to the injury was to cut the fabric away from her. I grab a pair of scissors and right before I begin to cut, I hear her cry out,

“No Sam, it-it hurts!” She says as she wiggles around on the bed, trying to escape the pain.

“I know pretty girl, but you need to trust me. We have to cut this shirt off because your injury is too severe; it’ll hurt worse if we don’t cut it, okay?”

She nods her head and I take her hand in mine, as I give the scissors to Dean, who slowly begins to cut her shirt, careful around her injury, and I can tell just by the look on her face, she is in a lot of pain. There’s nothing I would rather do than switch places with her but that is not possible. So I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it tenderly, reassuring her that I would never leave her.

“Alright Sam, we’re going to have to disinfect this and stitch her up,” Dean says, giving me a somber expression.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, nodding to him.

“Will you hold her down? It’s going to hurt and I got a towel for her to bite down on,” Dean says.

I look down at the girl lying helplessly beside me and she looks so sad and afraid but I knew it had to be done. “It’s going to be okay, baby, I’m going to be right here the whole time,” I say to her as Dean pours some whiskey on the injury. It was a good thing we had that towel because I couldn’t bear to hear the entirety of her screams. Just her muffled cries broke my heart to the point I began to cry with her. She did not deserve this; she did nothing wrong. As quickly as he could, Dean began on the stitches, sowing her up remarkably fast.

“She’s done,” Dean says.

“Great,” I say, helping him clean up but a groan from (y/n) stops me.

“Sam?” She says, sweat glistening her body.

“I’m right here,” I say, coming back to her side.

“Lay with me?” I couldn’t say no so I moved the sheets aside and crawled in next to her.

“Thank you for saving me, Sam,” She whispers after Dean decided to leave the room to get some food and medicine for (y/n).

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, (y/n).”

“Do you really like me, more than a friend I mean?” She asks

“I do. In a short amount of time, I’ve grown to care about you and your well-being. I want to do anything to make you happy and to protect you,”

“So does this count as a date then?” She asks, in all seriousness, and I just laugh.

“Oh no sweetheart, I will go all out for a date with you. Nothing is too much for my girl unless you say so. And I don’t see either one of us being hurt,” I say.

We both laugh until (y/n) begins to groan again. “No, it hurts to laugh,” she says, as we both still laugh.

“Stop making me laugh,” She whines.

“I can’t help it, sweet girl, I love the sound of your laugh,” I say, leaning down to kiss her temple.

“Well I can’t wait until you can kiss me properly,” she says.

“Believe me, pretty girl, it’s all I think about but until then, you get better, then I’ll kiss you like you deserve to be kissed.”

“Well then, I can’t wait.”

Taglist: @tloveswriting @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2 @angeredcrow @spnjediavenger @440mxs-wife @fandom-princess-forevermore @sam-winchester-admiration-league @thwiso @lyarr24 @grace15ella @deansmyapplepie @akshi8278 @baby1967impala @suckmysupernatural @slutforfics

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strutitout · 3 years

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LARRY FIC REC - recently read

1. I don't want a taste (I want it all) [3K] by thedaggerrose (blessedfetish)

What Louis really needed was a fat fucking nap.

What Louis got instead was some hipster-looking wannabe arguing with him over the validity of avocado toast.

Or the AU where Harry tells Louis to go fuck himself, Louis tells Harry to fuck him himself, and Harry follows through.

✨ Cute and hot + they bantering over avocado tost.

2. Right Side of the Wrong Bed [10K] by eyesofshinigami

There, standing in a pair of ridiculously tiny briefs and wielding a frying pan in one hand, is quite possibly the prettiest boy he's ever seen. Louis scrubs a hand across his face. "I'm in the wrong goddamn flat, aren't I?"

Or, the one where Louis wakes up on the wrong couch only to meet his future husband (even if Harry doesn't know it yet).

✨ This was not the first and won’t be the last time I read this fic. It’s super fun, hot, and even though it’s “just” 10K, their connection is really well-built.

3. When Least Expected [22K] by Rearviewdreamer

Drowning in a sea of emails and Zoom meetings in the living room, his lonely son falling more and more behind in his kitchen classroom, and crushing weight of the world being on house arrest for the foreseeable future, one fateful online interaction suddenly has everything looking up.

✨Louis’ kid is having a hard time trying to adjust to the new reality brought by COVID, until he starts having music classes with music teacher Harry, and things start looking up for both father and son. Very sweet fic and really interesting to see them falling on love over this hard times.

4. Naked Attraction #2 [29K] by reader_chic_2

“By the way, I checked you out quite a lot before your tube was raised.”

Harry smiled lustrously, “Yeah? More than Leonard? He might have been crazy, but he was sort of cute.”

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Maybe to you, Styles, but I don’t enjoy dominating in the bedroom.”

“Is that so?” Harry licked his lips. “Funnily enough, I do.”

Louis felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. “I’m not sure if someone as adorable as you could dish out commands.”

Harry laughed brightly, and in a second flat his hand reached out and gripped his hip so hard it made Louis gasp. His eyes darkened, boring into Louis’ with a burning intensity. “And I’m not sure someone as mouthy as you could take my commands. Want to test it out?”

. . .

Louis Tomlinson is the first openly gay football player in the Premier football League. He was outed by the paps, but he’s had to embrace it since then. To show he doesn’t have shame in it, he goes onto Naked Attraction, and all the money will go to LGBTQ+ support, but he has made some changes to the show. Incidentally, he meets a certain Harry Styles there, and that is when things get interesting...

✨ This was really really fun, loved their dynamic and found it a very original story. Fluff, fun and smut.

✨ Additional tags: Spanking. Subspace.

5. Hold Me Closer [36K] by balanceds

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

✨ I’m not an expert but from the comments it seems the writter nailed the “dancing world” characterization (even though you don’t have to know anything about it to enjoy it). There’s some good banter and friendship; hot smut; lots of pining and not that much angst.

6. Whisper The Wind [36K] by jacaranda_bloom

Louis’ father has political ambitions and decides it’s time for Louis to step up as the company’s Chief Financial Officer. Louis thinks this is a monumentally stupid idea. After storming off in a rage he has a chance meeting with a tall, dark, curly haired stranger. A technical glitch with their shared elevator finds Louis spending twenty minutes with the most intriguing man he’s ever met. Unfortunately the man is leaving London the very next day and moving to Australia to work at his mates surf school. Timing, as they say, can fuck right off.

Fast forward three years and Louis is miserable, a shadow of the man he once was, working in his father’s company, and hating every moment. At his thirtieth birthday party, surrounded by people he doesn’t know or doesn’t like, he decides to throw it all in and follow the impossible dream. Happiness, a fulfilling life, and someone to love. The question is, will that dream be found ten thousand miles away on a sandy beach, with a curly headed surfer dude?

---

Or the one where Louis rides an elevator that may change his life forever, Harry loves the ocean but is a terrible surfer, Liam proves not all heroes wear capes, and Niall might actually have all the answers.

✨ No angst, this is 36K of pure fluff and hot smut (read tags). They fall in love almost immediately, so they are already together most of the story.

7. King of wishful thinking [38K] by Star_Henderson

“Don't umm don't get on the bus, come inside.” Louis blurted the words out, speaking quickly.

Harry looked startled.

“Just. Look I don't know if I want..” Louis scrubbed his face with his hand. “I'll pay for your time. Just come in.”

Harry stepped away from the bus stop and the bus sailed straight past.

“What's umm what do you guys make these days?”

Harry shuffled his feet. “Depends. Like two hundred an hour.”

Louis hummed. “Reasonable.” He gestured towards the hotel. “Come up for a drink or some room service or something.”

Harry scraped the toe of his already scuffed boots on the floor. “You don't have to do this, I feel like… like you're a nice person who feels bad but it's fine. I get it. You don't have to make it up to me.”

Louis stared at Harry. It'd been so long since he'd even spoken to a guy let alone hung out with one. He'd enjoyed the banter and the flirting.

“Come up.” Louis’ voice was soft.

Harry’s face bloomed into a smile. “Ok.”

✨This is another one that I’ve read more than once and still love. Sex worker Harry. Really sweet, very well-written and their love is really well constructed.

8. hush. [41K] by Wankerville

“I don't like you like that, Harry.”

“See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.”

---

or an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

✨ Read the tags! My notes on this one were: SO SO BEAUTIFULLLLL. Loved it, angst (but not a heartbreaking one), SO MUCH FLUFF, great dialogues, great banter and smut. Loved it!!! (lol)

9. Don't Look Down [91K] by zarah5

AU. In which Louis is a solicitor at one of London’s most prestigious law firms and Harry happens to apply for the position as his trainee. And everyone else is around, too.

✨I love everything they write and this one wasn’t different. Amazing characterization, great dialogues, great banter! Absolutely loved it! Not much smut. A bit angsty, wanted to punch Louis at times, but all ended well.

10. Let Me Be Your Star [252K] by lovelarry10

Harry Styles has always been a singer, but he’s never had much confidence in himself. When his idol is brought on as the new judge on The X-Factor, he figures, what the hell? He’d get to sing and meet his idol. What could go wrong?

Louis Tomlinson has always wanted to mentor young musicians. When he’s asked to be a judge on The X-Factor, it’s a dream come true, everything he ever wanted. What he didn’t expect was to meet a curly-headed stranger that would turn his life upside down

✨Hot smut, a lot of fluff and not that much angst. Harry seems a bit immature (which makes sense for his age) but their relatioship is really sweet. (I also enjoy that the writer included pictures of how they imagined H and L on each presentation)

#fic rec #april 2021 #larry fics

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virtchandmoir · 4 years

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HUBBELL AND DONOHUE COMPOSE A HALLELUJAH

January 11, 2021

Madison Hubbell and Zach Donohue have hit a sort of “Hallelujah” trifecta. Certainly they’re the first team to marry skating’s favorite versions of the Leonard Cohen composition—those of Jeff Buckley and k.d. lang—in a single program, and the first to present two separate programs to the song. And more than this, they tapped a choreographer who skated to it himself: Scott Moir, who in 2012-13 used Buckley’s version for an exhibition with partner Tessa Virtue.

The Buckley connection, though, was purely fortuitous. Last season, a year after his retirement from competition, Moir offered his first choreographic insights to former training mates Hubbell and Donohue, adding some input on a program they’d already forged with coach Marie-France Dubreuil.

The plan was always for more, given a special connection between Moir and Donohue, who first shared training space in the 2010-11 season, in Canton, Michigan, when Donohue was paired with Alissandra Aronow and Moir and Virtue had an unusual season including surgery for her and an overdue return to competition. The bond grew years later in Montreal, with Virtue and Moir training there from 2016 through 2018.

“They had something unique, where I think a lot of us train hard, we all have a very supportive quality within the school, but Zach and Scott were able to push each other a little bit, almost challenge each other to be pushing harder or motivating each other in a little bit different way,” said Hubbell. “So I think that kind of started the spark that was like, maybe this would work and maybe this would be a good addition. You know, I connect a lot with Marie in choreography and we have a lot of amazing people here, but I think that Zach was able to find a different part of himself working with Scott, and the coaches were able to see that that would be a good combination.”

Timing, however, was trickier. “It turns out that when you’re one of the most decorated skaters of all time, you got some stuff to do, so he was hard to nail down,” said Hubbell. “So I think that actually, this really strange year, where everything was on pause, was a big blessing for us because it gave Scott a lot of time that maybe he would have otherwise been using to tour or go to competitions with his own students.”

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The team estimated that they’ve worked with Moir about five times now, including for four days in mid-December a week before our conversation. “It’s pretty amazing, but he always watches our competitions and gives us feedback,” said Donohue. “And he’s in close communication with Marie, so he comes in with a pretty solid plan every time. And we’re just able to breathe a little bit of life into transitions that we thought we understood and get a deeper understanding of them, another energy, a little bit more of a connection to each other within that music. And we both feel the music so well, sometimes it’s easy to get lost in it ourselves, so it’s nice to have him there to kind of give us those focus points on how we can really bring everyone into our story.”

Moir’s recent competitive experience is a boon, noted Donohue, and so too his ability in retirement to focus more on process than results. “From my standpoint of having trained with him and always only seeing the push and the drive and the intensity that is Scott Moir, it’s really interesting to see the way his mind works and the details,” he said. “The way he thinks about starting and finishing a movement, why that movement registers to him, why certain ones work and why others don’t, why they can seem disingenuous. To be able to pinpoint what it is, no, there’s no way, and even if I could, to be honest, I wouldn’t put it out there, because that’s his thing. It’s not for me to share.”

“I was surprised at his specificity,” said Hubbell. “Even now, when he was here, you know, we have the whole program set, but we might spend the entire two-hour lesson with him on one little 10-second transition, because he was very dialed into these moments that he wanted a certain way. There was no rush to get there at a certain point—he was going to spend as much time as needed to get the result that he wanted.”

But that attention to detail was also critical for the team. “That’s part of, I think, why we’re able to feel so comfortable in the piece as well,” she concluded. “Like, there aren’t any sticky moments, there aren’t things that are up in the air or like, oh, this isn’t comfortable, but just push through because it looks fine.”

Moir’s other priority has been keying in on the team’s assets. “Really committing to the fact that if we stay true to what we’re good at and what we like to perform, that that would be enough, and we don’t have to necessarily try to attain all the things from each team or be the best at everything,” said Hubbell. “We have to be the best at what we are.”

And what that is, they’ve determined, is something Moir knows a bit about: the basics. “We love stroking, we love footwork, we love edge quality more than any flashy tricks or more acrobatic moments,” she continued. “We like the human connection of looking each other in the eyes and the simplicity that can come from something that looks simple, but really isn’t simple to execute.”

The free dance made its full public debut in October, via an at-home video performance submitted to U.S. Figure Skating’s International Selection Pool Points Challenge—a new event introduced to allow elite skaters a competitive opportunity in the wake of COVID-related event cancellations. Its only traditional outing so far came at late October’s Skate America, before a live audience of judges, tech panelists, and whimsical cardboard cutouts of fans, pets, and the GEICO Gecko®. Any subsequent outside feedback has also come long-distance—thanks to video submissions to judges and the federation—but despite the uncertainties of the season beyond the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, the team has found ways to stay focused.

“I’d say that staying motivated, at least for myself, has been pretty easy because first, we chose programs that we both really enjoy performing, and second, that we really connect to,” said Donohue. “And then on top of that, we have some of our closest competition here with us. So I think that’s a pretty fortunate situation for us.”

“And especially working with an outside choreographer has helped, I think, kind of put almost competition dates in our mind,” added Hubbell. “It’s almost like those little milestones where it’s like, okay, we know Scott will come back in a month and a half and he’s left us with these projects, and now let’s develop those. And then we get feedback from him.”

The open schedule has, in its way, taught patience. “There were some moments in there that maybe the choreography was a new feeling for us, and instead of having to make it work or simplify something because a competition was coming, we were just able to really commit to the project,” she continued. “And things have remained relatively stable, which is actually, I think, better in the long term for the development of the program.”

***

There’s another bond involved here—that between Hubbell, Donohue, and “Hallelujah,” a connection they’ve discussed since first using lang’s rendition for their short dance in the 2015-16 season. It’s a song closely tied to the early days of their partnership, when Donohue would sing the piece to Hubbell to ease her nerves. In the strangeness of this year’s off-ice off-season, coach Patrice Lauzon suggested the team choose a piece for their free dance that felt like home for them, or a concept that felt underexplored. The answer—including the choice this time of Buckley—was obvious.

“I think we feel like we never really got to fully experience what ‘Hallelujah’ was or could have been because it was missing the feeling that we get… I mean, any time we’d be in the car on a road trip, we’d play one, we’d talk about the other,” said Donohue. “Play the other one, we’d talk about the other one. I mean, they were always kind of synonymous with each other because of the balance of what they brought to the other piece.”

Lang’s version, with a more pronounced 6/8 beat and warmer arrangement, was the more obvious choice for a short dance pairing a Ravensburger Waltz and march. “And it was a good time, I think, in our career, the first year of coming to these new coaches, to explore the more hopeful and outward expression of ‘Hallelujah,’” said Hubbell. But the free was another story. “We knew that the Jeff Buckley version was very important to our relationship. And the Jeff version is Zach for me—like, that is him personified. So it definitely wasn’t going to be the right program without it.”

Dubreuil asked the couple which elements of each song they most wanted to utilize, and she, Moir, and music editor Hugo Chouinard took command of the final arrangement, while Karl Hugo composed a bridging piece to connect the two versions. The full edit has remained untouched since its creation—an unusual situation for elite ice dancers in general, and particularly for Hubbell and Donohue.

“We’re usually the ones nitpicking here and there,” said Hubbell. “And I think she knew that we were so attached to this song that even talking the first time, it was like, which parts do you like? And I was like, well, I like this verse and this verse, and I definitely want to use this verse. I think she knew that she had to take an outsider’s approach. Definitely there are verses that I am very attached to myself that aren’t in that song, and I just carry that energy into the music, even though the words aren’t there.”

Musically, Buckley’s version in particular can be challenging for a skater, incorporating unusual rhythmic moments and spare instrumental backing, while the soaring vocal line and steady pace of lang’s version demands creativity to avoid any obvious choices. An inability to choreograph on ice until after the song’s final edit disrupted the team’s typical hands-on approach to working through music, elements, and layout as an ongoing process.

“Twizzles, for example, was a part where we had a completely different feeling of where it should start, and Marie said something like, ‘oh, we should start it on this music,’ and we were like—” Hubbell offered a dubious expression. “’Not sure, that seems like the weirdest accent to start.’ And then we tried it, and it was like, wow.” So too, she said, with the choreographic sliding move that closes the program.

The outcome has been a program with each element custom-set to the music, intricately woven with even the subtlest accents—even if it means scrapping planned work. “We had a lift in mind that we wanted to put in, and we’ve been working on it throughout the season,” she continued. “And as cool as the lift is, it doesn’t seem to fit. It’s like too dynamic for the quietness of the music, so I think it goes into the log for another year.”

“Hallelujah” itself is often custom-modified by its interpreters. Leonard Cohen claimed to have composed around 80 verses for the song, shifting lines in and out in live performance and giving future artists an opening to craft the story they most wish to emphasize. Hubbell and Donohue similarly prefer to leave their own program open to viewer interpretation.

“We chose it because it’s something very personal and it’s very home for us, and even in the creation of the program with Scott, he never asked to go too far into that bubble,” said Hubbell. But for the team, the messages conveyed by Buckley and lang transcend words.

“[Buckley] has this kind of broken vulnerability about him,” said Donohue. “Like, you hear his voice, and you just kind of don’t move. Even the way he just exhales in the very beginning of the music—we didn’t cut that out because we really felt like it set the tone for what he was feeling and the way he was expressing the lyrics.”

Hubbell finds in Buckley’s rendition a sense of loss, “a painful kind of plea,” whereas lang’s version offers a sense of catharsis. “Jeff’s, each verse, you just feel a little bit more broken inside, a little bit more empty,” she said. “It’s part of why we put Jeff at the beginning, because we felt like we needed to build to a moment of, okay, everything is going to be okay. We all go through this, and there’s light on the other side.”

And then there’s the sense of subject matter—the interpretations of “Hallelujah,” of course, ranging from the spiritual to the sensual.

Of Buckley’s, Hubbell noted, “there’s an intimate, more of a human quality, where I feel like he’s singing about someone or about a lover. There are moments in that song where it feels so much more of a human to human connection. And then k.d.’s, where it really feels ethereal. It feels like she’s singing to God, it feels like she’s asking for some help or some guidance from something that is not understood.”

And while Hubbell and Donohue’s free dance is the merging of two musical perspectives, it’s good to remember that so, too, is its design—Moir joined by the veteran Dubreuil.

“For me,” said Hubbell, “working with them and doing their choreography, it’s like Scott is the Jeff Buckley version and Marie-France is the k.d. lang version. Scott has this grounded, very real—like, there’s no faking the emotion, there’s no contrived story, there’s just real connection, intimacy. You know, just that kind of earthy version that is Jeff Buckley. And working with Marie-France is a lot more giving, it’s a lot more bringing something to the audience that’s watching you, open and graceful and specifically very feminine.”

It’s been said that “Hallelujah” is a song that didn’t quite find its own final form until transformed by new interpretations—first by John Cale, who inspired Jeff Buckley, the impact of whose version then, on some level, inspired many others that followed.

And while it’s easy to look at one team’s free dance as a revision, or perhaps addendum, to an earlier short, it’s more compelling to consider the idea of a genetic thread between interpreters. As Cohen begat Cale begat Buckley and lang, Virtue and Moir’s own “Hallelujah” was choreographed by Marina Zoueva, who injected into that exhibition a few moves drawn from decorated pair Ekaterina Gordeeva and Sergei Grinkov. Hubbell and Donohue’s free in turn carries not only Moir and Dubreuil’s DNA, but echoes of their forebears. The complex but intimate transitions would’ve suited any Virtue and Moir free dance of the early 2010s; the emphasis on utilizing every inch of music through contemporary dance is a legacy of Jennifer Swan and Guillaume Cote.

But my own investment in identifying the program’s intricacies, from musical nuance to choreographic accent, is also just another way of interpreting the enigma that is “Hallelujah.”

“We hope that when people watch it, they have their own experience,” said Hubbell. “Even for us, each time we skate it or practice it, it can bring out a different feeling based on what we’re going through in that moment, so I don’t think there’s a story that should be known. I mean, ‘Hallelujah,’ for me, is like life. Whatever you need it to mean for you in that moment is what it should mean.”

—Two for the Ice

#scott #off ice #coach #press #liked the bit about specificity #laughed at the bit that zach could ever push scott

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uh-drarry · 4 years

Text

Previous Part

Angsty Quarantine Drarry, requested by, like, three people

(TW: talk of past child abuse) This takes place before my previous Quarantine Social Media AU

- Harry is having a hard time with quarantine despite being stuck in his house with his dads.

- Draco is living with Blaise and has only been at their flat, the grocery store, or visited their mums since quarantine began a month or so ago.

- He and Harry FaceTime at least once a day and text constantly

- Remus is always asking Harry if Draco is staying up on his English assignments and when they say they’re working on another class he always scoffs and says English is obviously most important with a wink as he walks away

- Sirius is enjoying staying in bed longer in the mornings and waking up with Remus instead of waking up at the ass crack of dawn to help open the cafe as he usually does. He is already starting to miss it though. (But Remus and Harry benefit because Sirius will make them the best coffee or pastries some mornings)

- Draco notices something is off before Remus and Sirius because he’s constantly talking to Harry and the other two think Harry is in his room working on his online assignments and talking to Draco. Which he is, they’re not totally wrong.

- But his grades are starting to slip and Harry is getting very lonely and depressed. Some nightmares are starting to return, and his appetite is waning.

- Being stuck in one space, despite it being a house rather than a cupboard, is getting to him.

- Harry doesn’t talk about this because he thinks it’s ridiculous, it’s been over 15 years since he was removed from the Dursley’s and he’s had therapy for it for years how can this still effect him. He fears looking ungrateful for everything Remus and Sirius have done for him at times like these.

- Draco notices that Harry seems more tired than usual and is confused about his assignments more than usual. At first Draco chalked the assignment thing up to changing to the online system but then he noticed the other things too. And he starts to get a bit worried but he tells himself that it’s probably nothing.

- Until he keeps noticing these things and it feels like Harry isn’t contributing much to their conversations, as well as pulling away from Draco.

- Harry usually only spends time with his dads at dinner now. He tries to paste on a smile and always offers to do the dishes so his dads don’t notice how little he’s eaten. After dishes, he usually claims he’s going to play video games or talk to Draco and his friends or go to bed so Sirius and Remus don’t bat an eye about it. They just hug him goodnight and tell him they love him.

- One night Draco has had enough of the worrying and guessing. He can’t get much out of Harry anymore and he’s getting worried. More so than before.

- At this point Draco knew a bit about the Dursley’s and what they did to him but the two never really sat down and talked about everything. Draco didn’t want to push Harry about it and Harry didn’t want Draco worrying about him or to scare him off.

- Draco’s mind, because of the lack of information, doesn’t immediately go to Harry’s history. But he doesn’t know what it could be thats affecting him like this. Draco knows Harry was in an abusive household as a child but that’s about it.

- So. One night Harry is very quiet during their FaceTime. He’s laying in bed in a blanket burrito and half asleep when he mumbles out that he misses Draco a lot and his blankets aren’t as good at cuddling him as Draco is. A minute later he falls asleep with the FaceTime still going.

- Draco watches him for a couple minutes before ending the call and leaving his flat.

- He’s never snuck in to Harry’s room before, especially without Harry but he’s determined. He knows they have a spare key and that Sirius and Remus are probably watching TV in the back room together.

- He finds the key and as quietly as he can, opens the door.

- Normally he would just knock and have one of Harry’s dads let him in. But he feels like this is an important conversation to have between the two of them before he decides to bring his dads attention to the possible problem.

- Plus he’s not worried about Sirius and Remus, they love him and yeah they wouldn’t love him sneaking in but they’d listen to him before forming an opinion about why he was doing so.

- The only thing he’s worried about is them not letting him stay because of the quarantine.

- He successfully gets in, and locks the door behind him. He can hear the tv like he assumed, and slowly makes his way up to Harry’s room where he finds a still asleep Harry with his phone still in hand.

- He can hardly even make out Harry’s head, he’s buried so far in his blankets.

- Draco quietly makes his way over to Harry, sits on the bed, and gently shakes the sleeping boy.

- Harry mumbles and tells Remus to go away, but rolls over and opens his eyes when Draco doesn’t leave.

- Harry bolts upward, eyes wide when he realizes that it’s Draco who’s waking him up.

- “Wait.” He rubs his eyes and looks back at Draco, “what’s happening, why are you here?”

- “I snuck in here, darling. I need to talk to you.”

- Harry’s eyes widen “my dads don’t know you’re here? Are you okay?”

- “No they don’t. I found the spare key and they didn’t hear me over the TV. I’m okay, Harry, but I don’t think you are and I was worried and needed to check on you and talk to you in person rather than through a screen.”

- Harry calms a little when Draco says he’s okay, but avoids Draco’s eyes when he says he wants to talk. “What do you want to talk about?”

- “Babe, are you okay?”

- “What do you mean.”

- “I mean... I feel like something is wrong. Since quarantine started you’ve slowly seemed, I don’t know, not yourself. You seem withdrawn, and like you’re not sleeping well. You were worrying about school which I thought was just because of the online thing but now I don’t think it’s that. I’m just worried and wanted to see if you were feeling okay or if you were sick or just needed a cuddle.”

- “Well I definitely need a cuddle.” Harry mumbled, he laid back onto his bed and unfurled some of his blanket so Draco could be part of his burrito.

- Draco joined him, laying so they were facing each other. They just watched each other for a minute until Draco leaned forward to kiss Harry’s nose. Harry scrunched up his nose and giggled, making Draco smile.

- “Really though, Babe, are you okay? Do you want to talk about anything?” Draco asked, honestly quite worried about his boy.

- Harry sighed. And started playing with Draco’s fingers while he gathered his thoughts.

- “Well. I think-“ Harry paused, looking frustrated with himself.

- He tried again, “so you know that for a few years when I was little, I lived in an abusive home.”

- Draco nodded, “I don’t know much more than that though.”

- “Right. Well, my parents were killed when I was 2 years old. Apparently no one could find a will or anything saying that I was supposed to live with Sirius as my godfather, I still don’t understand that part. Anyway, so I was handed over to the only blood relatives I had left, my mums sister and her husband. And I lived there until I was almost 6.”

- Draco could tell that opening up like this was costing Harry. He pulled the other boys hands up and kissed them and then leaned forward to kiss Harry properly before allowing him to continue. Before he did though, Harry scooted closer to snuggle into Draco’s chest, and Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, and rested his chin on top of his head.

- “The social workers, they didn’t check on us much. And I think they told the Dursley’s they were coming because they never caught them doing anything to me. Or maybe they ignored it. I don’t know. At least until I was assigned a new social worker, Janie. She made a surprise visit, Vernon made me answer the door because they were eating. I was taken away from them that night, especially after I showed her my bedroom because my bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs.”

- Draco tensed up, immediately livid at these people who he’d never met, and who Harry hadn’t seen since he was 6. He didn’t want to interrupt Harry though, now that he was opening up to him, so he just hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head before taking a deep breath and continuing to listen.

- “I was like a servant to them. Especially to their son, Dudley. I had to wake up and make them breakfast, clean the house, tend the garden. If I messed up, which happened because I was a toddler, I was punished. There was a lot. I still remember a lot. No one ever believed me because my aunt and uncle made me out to be this troublesome child. I didn’t have time for schoolwork because I had so many chores. I wasn’t allowed to eat much, and I got scraps when I did. I was apparently pretty malnourished. The doctors believed that this all stunted my growth, and that’s why I’m shorter than I should be. And probably why my eyes are so bad too.”

- Harry stopped speaking for a bit then, lost in thought. Draco just continued to hug him while he waited for the rest. “They’re in prison still for what they did to me. I don’t know what happened to my cousin.”

- Harry sighed deeply, “So because of quarantine, I think, and being stuck in one place for who knows how long even if it’s a whole house this time and with people who I know love me it’s starting to bring back bad thoughts. I’m having nightmares again. Which I haven’t had for a few years now and I think I’m getting depressed and my grades are slipping and I’m worried about covid and I feel like all this is so stupid. I haven’t seen the Dursley’s since I was 6, it’s been what, 15 or so years? I’ve been in a loving home for 15 years and yet I get nightmares as soon as I’m not allowed to leave. I feel like it’s all so stupid and I’m stupid for being like this and not appreciative of my Dads for all they’ve done for me.”

- “You’re not stupid, Harry. Not at all.” Draco could tell Harry was getting emotional and trying to let it out. He could feel a wetness on his shirt from tears of frustration and anger and sadness. But Harry continued on, unable to stop without getting everything off of his chest now.

- “They fucking took the door off of my closet because I thought I was stuck in there when it closed on me in my first month of living here and had a panic attack. They made our cupboard under the stairs into a good and happy space for reading or hanging out. They have done everything for me and they never gave up on me. I remember them trying to come see me at the Dursley’s all the time, even though they never let them in. I love them so much and I feel like I’m ungrateful for it all when I feel like this-” He broke off, crying harder this time. After a few minutes and some deep breaths he continued again.

- “Being stuck here is bringing back nightmares, as well as my claustrophobia and I constantly feel trapped, so I just come up here to my room and nap in bed because I’m just so exhausted all the time and I have nowhere else to go. And I try to fake it in front of my dads. I don’t think they’ve really noticed anything. I got good at lying and hiding at the Dursley’s and I hate it even if it helps sometimes.”

- It seemed that Harry was finally done. Draco hoped he hadn’t left anything big out. He wanted to know and understand Harry on every level, and something this big was a good thing to understand, or at least to know about.

- Draco leaned back so he could finally see Harry’s face again. He wiped his tears away, and kissed his forehead, “thank you for telling me this, Harry. I want you to know that this will not scare me away, I’m here to stay.”

-Harry squeezed his eyes shut as a few more tears leaked out, he grabbed Draco and hugged him fiercely, “Thank you, Draco. For letting me talk, for listening, and for still being here.”

- “Of course, Harry.” He let the hug go on for a few minutes before tapping his shoulder and pulling back. “C’mon. Up you get.”

- “What? Why what are we doing?”

- “I just need you to get up and grab us another comfy blanket.” Harry looked confused but obliged anyway. When he came back, Draco was up and waiting for him at the doorway and holding out his hand for Harry’s. In his other arm, was Harry’s duvet. Still confused, Harry grabbed his hand. Draco led him upstairs and out onto the roof. He walked to the middle and layed out the blanket Harry had been carrying before grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him down onto it. He then took Harry’s duvet and rolled them up into it, and manoeuvring Harry so he was resting against Draco's chest again while looking into the night sky.

- “Oh.” Harry mumbled when he looked up and saw all the stars reflecting back at him.

- Draco smiled, “You said you were getting claustrophobic being trapped in your house. This way. You’re not trapped inside, but still quarantining at least. And you get to look at the beautiful sky, and feel the breeze.”

- Harry was speechless at the thoughtful gesture. He felt so loved in that moment. Draco snuck here, just to make sure he was okay. He hadn’t run off when Harry told him about his past. He keeps comforting him whenever he needs it. And now he’s doing all he can to help fight everything negative Harry has been feeling over the last month.

- Harry wiped away another tear before he turned, leaning over Draco. He leaned down and kissed his boy. Trying to convey all of his feelings in that one kiss. He pulled back and stared at Draco for a minute, committing everything to memory. He never wanted to forget this moment.

- Harry looked into Draco’s eyes and thought he could see his emotions reflected back to him.

- “Draco.” They looked at each other for another moment, Draco moving his hand to cup Harry’s face, while the other went around his waist.

- “I love you, Draco.” It was the first time either of them had said it. Draco's eyes widened slightly before a big grin broke out over his face.

- Draco surged up to kiss him again, then, “I love you too, Harry.” They continued for a few minutes before setting back down to where they’d been, smiles on both of their faces.

- “Harry?” Draco asked after awhile of pointing out constellations, and certain stars.

- “Yeah?”

- “You’re going to talk to your dads about everything right? Soon? I feel like they will really be able to help you, love.”

- Harry sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I’ll talk to them tomorrow. Will you be there with me?”

- “Of course I will. I’d do anything for you. But that’s tomorrow and I think we should probably go to sleep. It’s pretty late and you’re not sleeping enough as it is. Mind if I sleep over?”

- “Of course not, Draco. You can sleep over whenever you want. Especially if we sleep in my bed.”

- “Well I certainly didn’t want to sleep on the couch or the floor.” The two boys got up and took the blankets back inside and down to Harry’s room before snuggling back in Harry’s bed together.

“I love you, Harry James Potter-Lupin.” Draco said with a kiss.

- Harry smiled and replied, “I love you too, Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

Masterlist

Tags: @pan-and-ready-to-stan @spaceaas @abstractundefined @afanbloglikeanother @potatoloveisreal @itsskylover23 @it-would-set-me-on-fire @panicfanatic-malfoy @drarryruinedme7 @charlenasaxen @vici-l @sweetlialia @devilrising @eruditeslytherin @malfoy-potterx

#y'all #I did it #drarry #drarry quarantine headcanon #harry potter #draco malfoy #sirius black #sirius lupin #remus lupin #hp headcanon #angsty drarry #angsty drarry quarantine #drarry quarantine

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